Taking Father Home ***½

by Sam Juliano

     A resourceful and committed young Chinese filmaker named Ying Liang has successfully transmitted to the film-going world what it is to live in China today and how its Westernized capitalistic society (which seemingly coexists with the communist underpinnings) is a ruthless testament to the grave price in values that must be forfeited to sustain it. 

It is astonishing that the 100 minute film cost only $5,000 to produce, although with non-professional actors and the use of family members, as well as a video camera, there was no real overhead to speak of.  It is furthermore rather remarkable that such a comparatively primitive mode of expression could yield such a trenchant view of a country in cultural transition and turmoil, but the stark urgency of his pale compositions which capture life unfolding, lend this picture an authenticity rarely achieved even when striven for.

  A 17 year old boy named Xu Yun (the actual name of the young amateur playing the role) is given the lamentable news that his Sichuan Province village is being razed for a government industrial project.  This occurrence is projected here as one that is typical in modern-day China, causing the displacement and relocation of millions, a concern most magnificent conveyed in the recent documentary Up The Yangtze.  In view of this sudden upheaval, the youth decides to embark upon a journey to the city of Zigong to find the father that abandoned his family six years ago, armed with an unspecific address and a pair of geese he carries in a basket on his back.

    The hustle and bustle of city life is conveyed in the constant sounds of transportation, and the fearful loudspeaker warnings of an impending flood.  Xu Yun runs into a few men who offer him advice: the first on the bus, a criminal, bluntly informs him that he must toughen up to survive in the big city (an excellent piece of advice in view of the subsequent violent episodes that unfold) and the second, a policeman, intervenes after the youth is busted for taken the bad advice of the criminal.  The film, in the tradition of neo-realism and Satyajit Ray examines everyday life on the street, and there are several surprisingly effective humorous set pieces that keep the film from falling into pathos, especially since the ending is tragic.  In a memorable scene in a police station, a man caught defecating near a statue in public view engages in a zany circular run around with a policeman, threatening to commit the act a second time as some kind of a “nature observance.”  Earlier on there is a cat and mouse type ice cream cone routine that almost recalls Chaplin’s The Circus, but Xu Yun’s impoverishment in any case clearly recalls the universality of the Little Tramp.

 

     It seems clear as the film plays out that Xu Yun is a connection to a dissipating past, which is being replaced with an indifferent capitalist society where the acquisition of money supersedes the most rudimentary sense of civilized, much less congenial behavior.  Personal identity and age-long traditions are now matters of the past.  The central symbol of money is a form of barter-the two stoic geese who can be traded in for the sustenance to live for a few more days.  Much like in DeSica’s seminal post war works, the entire depressed society is predicated on obtaining money by any method,  and predators lurk at every turn, transforming Xu’s need for affection and familial bonding into a nightmarish “dog eats dog” existance.  The impersonal nature of capitalism running rampant is symbolized by the commercial development of apartment complexes, which are sprouting up across the country.

    The final scenes, which reveal the tragic fate of Xu’s search and bleak discovery, paint a dim view of a hostile and indifferent world doomed by circumstances out of the control of its protagonists.  Almost defiantly, the teenager buries paper money that is covered with blood near a tree, cognizant of its complicity in murder.

 

    As is always the case with a film with almost no funding, the film stock is crude and often grainy and unattractive.  This sometimes impedes full appreciation as there is nothing here within that mythic range of “strangely and compellingly” beautiful.  But this film falls within a genre all its own, and there is no effort to add filmic enhancement.

    Reputedly, Taking Father Home was shot during the time a major earthquake ravaged the area of the filming and Liang was forced to put the project temporarily aside and aid disaster victims and try to keep crops from spoiling.  Liang is quoted as saying that “We were glad to lend our assistance.  Over the next few years, I would not make any film related to the earthquake.  Film should always remain humble in front of life.”

     Taking Father Home is the proverbial example of how one can achieve success with a will and a video camcorder.  It’s a win for the little guy.