The
Cultural Revolution was supposed to sweep away all unfair advantageous derived
from wealth and social connections, right? Try telling that to a fifteen-year-old
nick-named Xiu Xiu. As the daughter of poor laboring parents, she cannot buy
herself a discharge from her involuntary service in the “Down to the Countryside”
Movement. Unfortunately, her beauty will only attract more exploitation in Joan
Chen’s Xiu Xiu: The Sent-Down Girl, which will have a
special 20-year anniversary screening at the 2017 San Francisco International Film Festival, with the ageless director scheduled to attend.
Co-adapted
by Chen and co-screenwriter Yan Geling from Yan’s own novel, Sent-Down is narrated by the boy in
class who carried a torch for Xiu Xiu, but would not be joining her in the
Sent-Down social engineering experience, because his parents were high-ranking
Party members. Much to her trepidation, Xiu Xiu is sent to the occupied nation
of Tibet, to learn the sort of animal handling and husbandry skills that were
so needed in the big city of Chengdu.
Initially,
Xiu Xiu’s early months in the Tibetan base camp pass without incident for her,
but the disappearance of her friend Chen Li and the subsequent lack of concern
from the authorities obviously holds grim foreboding implications. Eventually,
she is sent to live with gruff horseman Lao Jin to learn horsemanship. Rather
awkwardly, she will be sharing his small yurt, but she need not worry about him
possibly taking advantage. Remember Jake Barnes from The Sun Also Rises? Lao Jin suffered a similar injury—and apparently,
everyone knows about it.
However,
the taciturn horseman will still fall in love with Xiu Xiu, even though he is
incapable of acting on his feelings. While she eventually develops a platonic
affection for him as well, she still yearns to return to her family and friends
in Chengdu. Ill-advisedly, she will submit to the sexual demands of several
supposedly influential minor officials, in hopes they will facilitate her
transfer. At such times, the heartbroken Lao Jin is forced to watch in a
literal state of impotency, as Xiu Xiu is horribly misused and abused.
This
might be the most gut-wrenching portrayal of love ever portrayed on screen.
Yet, it also might be the purest cinematic manifestation of love as well. Rarely,
has a film so lovely to look at been so difficult to watch. Accomplished
cinematographer Lü Yue (who also directed the Cultural Revolution-themed drama Foliage) soaks up the stunning Tibetan
vistas and makes the crimson reds of Xiu Xiu’s wardrobe pop off the screen.
However, he also forces us to watch her victimization from an intimate vantage
point, just like Lao Jin.
Li
Xiaolu (then billed as Lu Lu) gives an absolutely heart-stopping performance as
Xiu Xiu. Frankly, she can be a bit immature at times, which is why she is so
convincing as a fifteen-year-old girl shipped off to the Steppe to satisfy the
Gang of Four’s perverse ideological caprices. However, Lopsang might even be
more devastating as the physically and spiritually wounded Lao Jin.