FACT AND FICTION. Jia Zhangke’s pseudo-documentary 24 City depicts
the history of Factory 420, a munitions plant in Chengdu built during Mao’s
Cultural Revolution that is slated for conversion into a high-rise apartment
and business complex. (Photos courtesy of the Northwest Film Center)
From The Asian Reporter, V19, #6 (February 10, 2009), page 16.
Jia Zhangke seamlessly mixes fact with fiction in 24
City
24 City
Directed by Jia Zhangke
Produced by Bandai Visual Company
Distributed by Cinema Guild
By Allison Rupp
From the opening scene of indie cinema darling Jia Zhangke’s 24 City
it is apparent the camera is in the hands of an artist.
Hordes of workers, each indistinguishable from the rest in the same blue
jumpsuits, pour through the gates of a factory in Chengdu, China on
bicycles. While the grime on the gray-tiled factory walls appears so real it
is almost palpable, the precise symmetry of the frame and the gliding
motions of the cyclists recall a masterful painting.
The tension between art and reality defines 24 City, from the
bleak landscapes captured by Jia’s elegant camerawork to the seamless
combination of narratives told by real workers and actors portraying
workers.
The pseudo-documentary depicts the history of Factory 420, a munitions
plant in Chengdu built during Mao’s Cultural Revolution and now slated for
conversion into a high-rise apartment and business complex.
Over the course of an hour and 52 minutes, nine characters — five of them
real people and four professional actors — tell their personal stories of
living and working in the factory that operated as a city in itself, with
its own housing, schools, and recreation centers.
Some of the stories are simple renditions of lessons learned in the
monotonous hard work at Factory 420, like He Xikun’s, a repairman who learns
the value of recycling his tools from his boss.
Others, including Hao Dali (played by Liping Lu), relate the horrors
viewers would expect on the topic of living in Mao’s China, such as a mother
losing her child in a crowd of people then being forced back onto a boat
bound for the munitions factory.
Each character poses for Jia, as if waiting for him to paint their
portrait — within the hollowed-out remains of the factory, on a city bus, or
in a beauty shop. For the most part, their words and movements feel natural,
without drawing attention to the fact that not everything the viewer sees is
real.
One exception is the performance by Joan Chen, a successful actress in
both Chinese and Hollywood films, who plays a beautiful Shanghainese whose
looks everyone in the factory compares to — guess who? — Joan Chen. Chen’s
story and her self-conscious sniffling as she tells it call more attention
to the artifice in 24 City than is appealing.
Interspersed with the narratives is Factory 420’s methodical destruction
— from the machinery down to the light fixtures. Eventually nothing but
rubble remains, and the workers themselves have been laid off for years or
else retired.
Now they play game after game of mahjong, or sing old Communist
anthems in choruses to no one in particular, or find other ways to pass the
time.
"If you have something to do, you age more slowly," says one woman, who
has taken up sewing.
One cannot help but feel these workers and their stories will be
forgotten and buried just like the factory they spent most of their lives.
Unfortunately the film drags a bit in its final third and could benefit
from a more concise ending. But Jia’s soundtrack carries 24 City from
scene to scene in a nicely flowing history of Chinese pop music, from the
orchestral tunes of the ’50s to the crooning contemporary heartthrobs.
Critics lauded 24 City at the 2008 Cannes Film Festival, and it
seems safe to assume Jia’s artful new documentary style will stick.
24 City is screening February 13 and 15 as part of the 32nd annual
Portland International Film Festival. Both showings are held at the Regal
Broadway Metroplex, located at 1000 S.W. Broadway in Portland. For more
information, or to view a complete schedule of films, visit <www.nwfilm.org>.
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