| HOME | FILM | ESSAYS | WUYUETIAN |
Having earned international acclaim for films (Ju Dou, Raise the Red Lantern, To Live) that were viewed as both sweeping depictions of life in China and coded indictments of the Communist Party, Zhang Yimou changed gears in the late 1990s. The first of his later films commercially released in the U.S., The Road Home, was so simple and so persistently beautiful that on first viewing I saw it as self-indulgent and sentimental. Rumors that young star Zhang Ziyi was the director's new Bogdanovich-like obsession, taking the place of Gong Li, only deepened that impression. Maybe she is. But having recently seen The Road Home again on DVD, I realize there's a point to its shampoo-commercial quality. This is a film about a funeral, and like a funeral, it's all about symbolism. The story is simple: A man returns from the city to his rural hometown for the funeral of his father, the town's first schoolteacher. His mother insists on having her husband's body carried by hand from the nearest big town, where he died in the hospital. The stark black-and-white winter scenes of the present day give way a long flashback, the story of his parents' courtship and marriage, with appropriately heartrending obstacles to their obvious true love. This is the heart of the film in both senses, taking place mostly in summer and fall, and is shot in colors so rich they're probably still burned into art-house screens around the world. Zhang Ziyi bounces through the yellow fields, dressed in pink, her black ponytails bouncing, for what seems like the entire 1950s. But she's more than a beautiful young girl in love, and it's more than a remembrance of a love affair. She's a vision of youth and hope, and that vision comes from propaganda posters of the era. It's no coincidence that some of those posters appear on the walls of her home and the new schoolhouse. And the symbols don't stop there: A cracked bowl is restored for its symbolism. An idyllic view is remembered as "like a painting." It's fitting that the mother never learned to read, but she understands symbols that her son at first doesn't grasp. A bit much to take at first, The Road Home is thin on words but rich with images and captures the essence of cinema.