Director: Huang Ji 黃驥, Otsuka Ryuji 大塚龍治
Studio: Coolie Film Corporation 庫里 Yellow-Green Pi 龍驥映畫
Language: Hunanese 湘語
Running Time: 118 minutes
Recommended. This style of film isn’t for everyone, and is not the rarity of 15 years ago. That said, this kind of story from a female perspective by a woman director sadly still is. Just remember it’s raw and it’s grim.
This is part one of our Taipei Film Festival 2017 coverage! Over the next 2 weeks, we’ll be reviewing the best in Chinese-language cinema from the festival.
Lin Sen 林森, played by non-professional actress Yao Honggui 姚紅貴, lives in an unremarkable town in Hunan Province. Her mother is frequently away trying to deal with her faltering businesses, and Lin remains in her hometown with her grandparents. She faces the same mundane challenges as many in her position: the pressure to do well at school, bullying and a lack of privacy at home. The only person she seems to enjoy spending time with is her friend Mei Zi 梅子, and the two of them spend hours hanging around in internet cafes like most of their peers. Yao has secretly been stealing confiscated phones from school, and her and Mei decide to sell them to boys, replete with nude selfies discovered on some of the phones.
Having sold a phone to one boy, the two go to get their hair done to celebrate. Afterwards, the owner of the hairdressers invites the girls for drinks, promising to take some photos of the girls to hang in his new store. The two drink until they are passed out, and Yao awakes the next morning to find she is alone, and she cannot get in contact with Mei.
Some time passes, and there is still no word from Mei. Yao’s mother comes home, needing to borrow some money for the business. She spends some time with Lin, who is suffering from stomach pains. After examining her daughter, she realises she has an STD, but does not talk to her about it. Suddenly one day, Lin receives a message from Mei, asking for some money. However, Lin has started dating the local police chief’s son, and tells her she’ll deal with it later.
Soon after, Mei is dead, having committed suicide by jumping from a local pagoda. At her funeral, Lin discovers photos relating to STDs in Mei’s phone’s memory card. Having previously thought she may be pregnant, she suddenly understands what has happened — they have been raped by the hairdresser’s owner, who has an STD.
However, her confrontation with him goes nowhere, as he brushes off her accusations, and chases her away. Lin has nowhere to go, and her relationship with the police chief’s son is too distant, filled with brief and worrying sexual encounters — he forces her to perform oral sex and she implores him to rape her, if he’s man enough.
There’s no happy endings, as she’s caught and punished for the stolen phones. The only resolution comes from the police — they have found a murderer and rapist who’s been on the loose throughout. It’s the boy they sold the first phone to.
This is a film which will not comes as much of a surprise to many who have kept up with the latest generation of independent Chinese film makers. This kind of hyper-realistic, slow-paced film has been something of a calling card for a generation that was inspired by the works of Sixth Generation directors such as Jia Zhangke賈樟柯.
However, directors Huang Ji and Otsuka Ryuji (a husband and wife team) have certainly brought their own flourishes to this particular story. This is the second of what is planned to be a trilogy of films following life in smalltown Hunan Province, with both starring local girl Yao Honggui.
From the moment the film opens with a rather grotesque shot of Lin stuffing fish bladders, it is clear that this is a film which is not here to make you feel comfortable. Everything about the film feels not quite right, an eeriness that is present on the gloomy architecture, the incessant rain and mist and the ever present phones and internet cafes, which represent an escape for all these young people.
There is a lot to dissect, and for some, the film may not provide any answers at all.
But, in our view, it does much of what director Huang has stated she wanted to achieve. She successfully shines a spotlight on the real issue of sexual assault, and an inability to talk about sexual relationships openly in today’s China. Despite progress, and many years of stated equality, China remains a deeply patriarchal society.
It’s also refreshing to have that expressed via a female director, and it shows in the way that Huang chooses to shoot a number of scenes.
The film’s title refers to a Chinese proverb 笨鳥先飛, which literally means the stupid bird’s fly first, and is traditionally used to mean that those with less ability need to start first. For this film, however, the director commented that she wanted to focus on how foolish decisions at that age can often lead to tragedy at that age. So it is likely to be a play on the phrase.
We will certainly be keeping an eye on her future work, and will try to secure a copy of the first part in this meant-to-be trilogy, Egg and Stone for review.
This review is from the Asian premiere, we will update if there is a home release.
You can watch the trailer below: