Love Song 1980

QUICK SNAP: LIVE FROM TALLINN

In the early 1980s Beijing, sophomore college student Liang Zhengwen (Xian Li) once again meets Mao Zhen (Jessie Li), the young woman he has secretly fallen in love with. She was the girlfriend of his older brother who died when he accidentally drowned in a lake one night. This mysteriously elusive woman will be a haunting figure in his life. An unrequited love, she enters relationships with other men, while he engages in love triangles, and yet the pair remain emotionally inseparable.

Mei Feng’s adaptation of Yu Xiaodan’s novel, ’80s Lovers, is deliberately slow-paced, following the character of Zhengwen through much of the decade. The driving theme of the film is an echo of the sentiment that “no man is an island.” It positions the life story of the person as being defined by the people who come and go throughout his or her life – permanent and impermanent departures.

The bond the pair share is of someone they were both close to that has permanently left their lives. Zhen disappears, only to reappear into Zhengwen’s life. She frequently communicates with him by letter, her heartfelt words lending a deeper intimacy to their relationship. It’s a touching reflection on the emotions that bind two people together.

Sadly by the 75-minute mark, the film begins to feel laborious. Feng positions the young man as the main character, but the soul or the heart of the film is Zhen. By its conclusion we feel we have spent time observing the period in the life of a ghostlike figure, a spectre that never feels fully developed. He’s lost in the shadows cast by absent themes and ideas that compromise the depth of his character. Even Zhen, who in the earlier scenes has her layers peeled away to reveal a sad but captivating story, struggles to command our continued interest.

We feel the desire to want to be captivated by the characters, to feel more deeply for them, but the story does not put down the necessary roots. Love Song 1980 is in a state of perpetual cardiac arrest. Outside of the momentary pulses of promise, it continually flatlines. The scene in which Zhengwen’s brother’s body is found is viscerally unsettling, as Feng conveys the aching pain of loss in a way that’s rarely captured this profoundly in cinema. It’s brief, but it’s impactful.

I cannot speak directly to the merits of the adaptation, having no familiarity with Xiaodan’s novel. My suspicion however is that the film has the feel of a literary story, suited to that medium. Words on the page that can make the reader more implicit in the thoughts and feelings of the characters is lacking in the film, and where literature can hone in on details, the cinematic brushstrokes are broader. Throughout the film, detail is missing, or rather the premise and plot is in place, but it’s not threaded together. Yes, there are scenes that make us feel something for the characters, provoking momentary pulses of interest. However, without richer themes and ideas that are tenaciously explored, these are disparate and fail to satisfactorily coalesce.

Love Song 1980 has just had its European premiere at the 24th PÖFF Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival, where it’s showing in the Official Competition.

Angels Wear White (Jia Nian Hua)

This modern-day Chinese parable offers a detailed portrait of the gender gap in the most populous country in the world. This is a major accomplishment for director Vivian Qu, who also wrote the rich and profound script about two female teenagers dealing with very different issues. Their problems are somehow intertwined, and they fluctuate between the roles of oppressor and oppressed, always carrying the burden of being a woman.

In the opening of the movie, Mia (Wen Qi), a young cleaner in a seaside Hotel admires a gigantic resin statue of Marilyn Monroe recently erected on the beach promenade. She’s donning the emblematic white dress fanned from below, from The Seven Year Itch (Billy Wilder, 1955). She’s a symbol of female emancipation in the West. Mia dreams of becoming a receptionist. Then one night she witnesses a middle-aged man assault two young girls. The problem is that Mia is an illegal worker, and she does not report the event because she fears being punished for her status. Wen (Zhou Meijun), one of the victims, sees her life collapse after the incident, being subjected to a shabby and biased investigation combined with a family breakdown.

Mia and Wen lead very different lives, but they have in common the fact that being a woman puts them at disadvantage. “I don’t want to be reborn a woman. Not ever again”, says the receptionist to Mia after being dumped by her boyfriend. All the male characters in the film are very intimidating. The girls are not weak losers, instead they are anti-heroines facing an uphill struggle; they are willing to take responsibility for their actions, however dear the price may be. The two leads deliver very confident performances of complex characters, and every single actor has a part instrumental to the functioning of the narrative.

Vivian is a feminist filmmaker stirring a very urgent debate about women’s rights in China. And this is the only film in the Competition in which female issues are the centrepiece, as is Vivian the only woman director. Coincidentally or not, the President of the Jury Annette Bening has spoken out about the topic of female representation in film: “There is a lot of sexism, of course that exists. There’s no question. But I think things are changing. We have a long way to go, in terms of parity – production, directors, writers, actresses, appearing in festivals and all of that.” She added, “I think the direction we’re going is positive.” These factors and the grandiosity of Angels Wear White might make it the Festival’s big winner.

Angels Wear White showed at Venice International Film Festival in September, when this piece was originally written. It’s showing at the BFI London Film Festival taking place October 5th to 15th.