This article was originally published August 17, 2010.

By Kevin B. Lee

Zhao Liang

Zhao Liang is one of China’s leading artists working in video, photography and documentary film. His work examines both rural and urban realities, fast-paced progress and nostalgia, the nature of politics, and the beauty of the natural world. He clearly connects with the underprivileged, whom he considers to be the engine of society, and homes in on the everyday aspects of life ignored by public institutions. He has directed two feature documentaries, Crime and Punishment and Petition, and his videos, photos and installations have been exhibited around the world.

To commemorate dGenerate Films’ release of Crime and Punishment, what follows is a transcript from Zhao Liang’s audience Q&A following a screening of the film at the China Institute on Feburary 5, 2010. Additionally, there are excerpts from a supplementary interview with Zhao conducted by dGenerate Films’ Kevin B. Lee.

Thanks to Isabella Tianzi Cai, Vincent Cheng and Yuqian Yan for their translation of the interviews.

1. From the audience Q&A following the China Institute screening of Crime and Punishment:

Question: Could you say something about how this film has been distributed in China and how it’s been received? Has it been screened in theaters? Has it been on the television as well as on the web?

Zhao: In China, this film was screened once in Beijing Independent Film Festival. Other than that, very rarely have people had the opportunity to see films like this, unless they go to certain art galleries where they might have such films. So it is definitely hard to have distribution done in China. Right now dGenerate Films Inc. in the United States is helping me distribute it here.

Question: Could you explain why you made the film?

Zhao: It actually happened by chance. I was actually doing another project in 2004 somewhere around the China-North Korea border. I was there actually through connection. I was trying to document the interactions between the Chinese police officers and also the people from across the border,  the whole dynamic between the border police and how they deal with people from the other side of the border. And after I got there, I realized that they were not dealing with that issue any more. Instead, I got the chance to observe their daily lives and found them fascinating. So I decided to change that particular project and make something that could actually document their daily life.

Question: I found it really interesting that the soldiers actually allowed themselves to be filmed. I just wonder how that came about and what your sense was. Did they see the problem of what was happening and want it to be made available to the public?

Crime and Punishment

Zhao: I think it definitely involved some ethical issues for documentary filmmakers. Actually I did not have any permit to film this. I had a friend at the time, and through connection I had the opportunity to film their daily life. And I also told a lie in which I pretty much told them that I was writing a script and wanted to get some sources of inspiration for this particular script. These people were all very young and inexperienced, so for a lot of them, they actually did not give the film a second thought. They knew, though, when exactly I was going overboard. And when that happened, they would ask me to stop filming them, as you have probably observed in this particular film. That was pretty much the dynamic of filming this documentary and to approaching these subjects.

Question: In terms of the crew involved, were there any other people besides yourself who were there to film? And in terms of the presence of the camera, how comfortable were the people in the film with the camera? Is the opening scene shot right after you arrived there or is it shot some time later after you had been there for a while?

Zhao: Yes, it was a one-man crew. I was the only person there to film it. In terms of the specific date that the opening scene was shot, I cannot give you too many details. But I do remember that the way that they were dealing with the whole folding of the cover and the bed sheet. They did it very neatly every time, but they actually didn’t do it everyday. This is not actually a military military. Only when they are supervised that they would need to do it for show. What usually happens is that they often use their own covers, and they will put the folded ones under their beds, and that would be just supervision purposes. So they probably do this, as I will say, about three to five times a month. And it was probably after a month that I actually picked the camera and filmed the ritual that they do.

In terms of the presence of the camera and what kind of impact that it has on the interaction between me and them, I think that it does a certain kind of impact. For example, the old man who picks up scraps. I think that in China people tend to have this perception of the media: at the same time that they think it is political and for propaganda, they also think it as having something to do with justice. They think that if the camera is there, that means that “I am not on the side of the police officers.” So sometimes when the police officer locked the room, this old man would start to communicate with me, and we would be talking about how we could deal with this particular police officer in terms of apology and so on and so forth. And I do think that for me, I really want to tell him that it is best for him to apologize because I do think that the police officer would probably not react in the way that he had in this film if not for the camera. I think it is because of the presence of the camera and the mere fact that I was there that he lost his face and wanted this particular apology from this old man. So I do think that it does change the dynamic.

Question: When I was watching this, especially during the interrogation scenes, I couldn’t help being reminded of several similar kinds of behaviors during the Cultural Revolution, which is the fact that these faces, young officers invested with such authority. I know that this film is an observational documentary, have you had any reflections on how history can factor in on this particular situation? The other question that I have is just factual. I noticed that in the credits one of the producers was Wang Bing. Is that the same person as the director of Tie Xi Qu? And I was wondering the dogs, how they were used normally. Thanks.

Zhao: When I was on location as I was shooting this particular documentary, I realized how complex the situation was in terms of the connections or the relations between the local members, including the committee members, and the society that they lived in. And I do think that for this particular old man, he wasn’t wrong because he did not have the permit, his was expired. The police officers were actually doing the things that they were supposed to do to make sure that he actually renewed his license.

The situation then sidetracked as the son of the old man cursed the police officer. And I do think that that’s something that the police officer later on was not even serious about. The police officer just wanted an apology because the camera was there. To me, it is more about the absurdity of reality than anything else. And that is something that I wanted to capture with that particular sequence.

For the second question, yes, Wang Bing and I do know each other. We are actually friends. We are neighbors, and we live in the same building. In the credits you can actually see a lot of my friends. I really could not have done this without them.

As for dogs, eating dogs is something that people do practice in that part of the country, that is, the northeast part closer to North Korea. That is how they prepare for dog meat and eat it. For this particular film, I am using the dogs as a metaphor, so I’m sure that you will get the sense of what it means.

Question: The film that you are showing tomorrow, Petition, you started that film in 1996, so I believe that this film was shot afterwards. I am just curious if you originally intended to do this film from the viewpoint of the military police, to see it from a different vantage point. Do you see these two films as in a conversation with each other?

Zhao: I think there are a lot of objective reasons that I did these two different documentaries. For Petition, it would be almost impossible for me to actually approach the government officials or the police officers in that particular film because these are very political savvy Beijing police officers. They have all the former experiences before them and they know exactly what kinds of issues would damage them or what kinds of complications that would actually come out of the film, of the filming of the dynamic and interactions between the people who come to the petition village to complain, and the police. So that answers the question of why I wasn’t able to do that in Petition. As for this one, it was just by chance and also by luck, and also because that these people are politically more naive and less politically-savvy than their Beijing counterparts.

Question: Were there any other interesting things that you had filmed but did not make it into the film?

Zhao: I have a lot more of what I call “the boring footage” that I have shot but did not use in the final product. It makes me uncomfortable to actually show them including the cases of cracking down prostitution and a lot more unethical things going on. For me, I really don’t want those things seen by other people, so I left them out. I do think I have enough material other than those to fill in the documentary, which is after all just two hours’ long. I needed to make a very difficult decision.

Question: How do you want the viewers to feel after they see the film?

Zhao:  I actually don’t really expect or I don’t really care about how the audience will feel about my film because that’s not my purpose. As a filmmaker, I am making films for myself, and these are the things that I want to focus on: whether I have done my job, whether I have expressed to the fullest extent, and also the form, the style, the content that are incorporated in my film, whether I have fulfilled my expectation for myself as a filmmaker to tell the story to be told. So this is more personal, I don’t expect you to get something out of it.

That’s the reason why I feel very uneasy about Q&A. I feel embarrassed. Here is something that I want to impress upon you: in China at this stage it is almost impossible to get permit or have any type of approval or permission for independent film-making, especially documentary. For me, I have to struggle with ethical concerns. As a filmmaker, this ethical issue really bothers me a lot. And I really feel uneasy answering questions. I actually have to reexamine my responsibilities as a filmmaker, where to cross the line of being an ethical filmmaker. To me, this is definitely very difficulty to deal with.

Question: Can you talk more about the political pressure faced by independent filmmakers?

Zhao: I think the whole circle of independent film-making has a lot to do with the subject matters. If the subject matter is not that sensitive politically, no one actually would care, so they will not pick on you or single you out. To me, it is not the actually pressure from the top or the government, it is more the psychological pressure you have within yourself about the idea of what-if. Right now, I do think that through my friends, indirectly, I am trying to get the sense of how they perceive Petition, which is more politically charged. And at this point, it seems to me that I get the sense that they are not going to do anything that will be explicit to me. So far they have not approached me yet. So, we will see.

Question: So what are you working on now?

Zhao: I’m actually working on a project on AIDS that was commissioned by the government.

Comment: As a member of the audience, I do understand the difficulty of being an independent filmmaker in China. The black humor in this film is something that I enjoyed very much, and also the sense of despair, the sense that there is no resolve for everything. They needed to do what they needed to do to make a living. That is something very brilliant about this film.

———-

2. Excerpts from interview with Zhao by Kevin B. Lee:

Lee: For western audiences, they tend to see this film as a criticism of the Chinese state authority and police authority because the ways that the police treat the suspects seem like instances of power abuses. How would you answer to those audiences? What do you wish that they would understand?

Zhao: First, I want to say that this film does have a critical side against the state authority. Police brutality is common in China, and it needs redress. But on the other hand, I see the policemen and the thieves as victims of this distorted environment. Both can feel insecure about their positions in society. A thief probably fears that he may be mistreated by the police; a police officer, too, probably fears that one day he will let go of the right and power to arrest and interrogate people.

Lee: How big is the area?

Zhao: It is a small town, with a population of 8,000 to 10,000 approximately.

Lee: Usually in a small town like that, every one knows each other. Their way of relating to each other is probably not as strict as in big cities. However, the policemen there act like they are the big shot. They enforce a very strict-code behavior and discipline. Even the way they conduct themselves, like the ways they fold their blankets and talk to people, seems inappropriate. What do you think is the cause of the distortion in this environment?

Zhao: The police station at the China-North Korea border is a branch of China’s military force. The police officers there often do not have close ties with the locals. After a few years, most of them will get discharged and return to their birth cities to start a new career, with a few exceptions whereby the ones who are from the small villages of the town will return to their respective villages.

Lee: Does “the distorted environment” refer to this town only or China at large?

Zhao: Not just the town. I was referring to our entire political structure and institutional system.

Lee: In the film there is a garbage collector who easily catches our attention. Will you say that there is a certain class struggle associated with people like him, who come from the countryside? Why did the police suddenly pick on him for not having a permit even though it seems that he had been doing this job for a while? What is your view about it?

Zhao: I tend to think that the police has a reason to be strict in carrying out their duties. I don’t agree that the police picked on him simply because he was from the countryside. By law, the garbage collector needs a permit for doing his job. When the police checked on him, they found out that he left his permit at home. They asked him to go home and retrieve it, and he did. However, when he came back with the permit, the police found out that his permit had already expired. That was the reason they took him to the police station.

Lee: But then you see the way they treat him is very disrespectful as if their natural attitude towards him is to suspect him and not to believe his story. What does that say about the prejudice of the policemen?

Zhao: The garbage collector kept making up lies about his not having a permit. That was the reason for their long altercation. After he retrieved his permit, which was an expired one, he complained further about the fact that nobody reminded him to extend it.

Lee: As you were filming it, how did you feel about the garbage collector since he kept lying?

Zhao: On one hand, I felt that the old man only made a meagre living out of the garbage he collected, and his life must be hard. The procedures that he needs to go through in order to get a permit every year are cumbersome – he probably needs to bribe some officials to get it done for the number of permits is limited. At the same time, law enforcement in China is carried out rather haphazardly. In the past he had never been caught or punished for not having a valid permit, so he took it for granted that he could continue taking his chances.

Unfortunately, the old batch who worked at the police station was replaced by a new batch, which consisted of younger police officers who were generally less lenient. No one from the new batch recognized the old man, so obviously he was at a disadvantage. On the other hand though, I felt that the police needed not to harass the old man. The whole thing was lame.

In a twin pack of this documentary, I included a related incident. What happened there was that the well pump in a local residential area got lost. By convention, garbage collectors are the usual suspects of such public thievery. It is believed too that even if they have not done it, they must know the culprit because the person must go to them to sell the stolen thing. Therefore, from the police’s perspective, one way to such curb public thievery is through garbage collectors. Thus, the policemen in this case did have a second good reason to check on the old man.

Lee: There is one scene where the police officers are saying that they are losing their hair. What is the main cause of stress for them?

Zhao: All of them take turns to work night shifts. And since the number of police officers who work there is limited too, it is a hard job for all. They don’t usually get enough sleep. Plus the fact that they also need to take care of 110 emergency calls and be prepared for action at any minute.

Lee: Near the end of the documentary there is a scene where the police officers arrest the timber thieves and go with the thieves to their residence. This scene seems to be a very complex scene to shoot for a documentary filmmaker because it also involves a family conflict. Prior to this scene, the documentary mainly takes place in the police station, which is a very controlled environment. How were you able to film this seemingly tense and difficult situation between the policemen and the villager outside the police station? What was the villagers’ reaction to being filmed by him as they were having a fight with the policemen?

Zhao: I did not find it hard to film this scene at the time. The villagers put their trust in me because they felt that with the presence of my camera, the policemen would not dare to mistreat them. The footage could act as evidence if needed at a later point too. This was a great advantage to both my filming amongst them and the villagers themselves.

Lee: Were there other moments when you felt that the camera was having an effect on your subjects?

Zhao: It is certainly true in the case of the old man. He often spoke to me in front of my camera because the police would not sympathize with him. Occasionally I nodded at him. This simple gesture alleviated him.

Lee: Did you feel that the police acted differently in any way in front of the camera?

Zhao: Yes, they did, to varying degrees. In general, they weren’t as brash. For instance, the garbage collector’s son remonstrated the police officers at one point. Because my camera was there, the police officers felt that they would lose face if they did not pursue the investigation right to the end.

Relevant Classroom Use

Zhao Liang

Zhao Liang is one of China’s leading artists working in video, photography and documentary film. His work examines both rural and urban realities, fast-paced progress and nostalgia, the nature of politics, and the beauty of the natural world. He clearly connects with the underprivileged, whom he considers to be the engine of society, and homes in on the everyday aspects of life ignored by public institutions. He has directed two feature documentaries, Crime and Punishment and Petition, and his videos, photos and installations have been exhibited around the world.

To commemorate dGenerate Films’ release of Crime and Punishment, what follows is a transcript from Zhao Liang’s audience Q&A following a screening of the film at the China Institute on Feburary 5, 2010. Additionally, there are excerpts from a supplementary interview with Zhao conducted by dGenerate Films’ Kevin B. Lee.

Thanks to Isabella Tianzi Cai, Vincent Cheng and Yuqian Yan for their translation of the interviews.

1. From the audience Q&A following the China Institute screening of Crime and Punishment:

Question: Could you say something about how this film has been distributed in China and how it’s been received? Has it been screened in theaters? Has it been on the television as well as on the web?

Zhao: In China, this film was screened once in Beijing Independent Film Festival. Other than that, very rarely have people had the opportunity to see films like this, unless they go to certain art galleries where they might have such films. So it is definitely hard to have distribution done in China. Right now dGenerate Films Inc. in the United States is helping me distribute it here.

Question: Could you explain why you made the film?

Zhao: It actually happened by chance. I was actually doing another project in 2004 somewhere around the China-North Korea border. I was there actually through connection. I was trying to document the interactions between the Chinese police officers and also the people from across the border,  the whole dynamic between the border police and how they deal with people from the other side of the border. And after I got there, I realized that they were not dealing with that issue any more. Instead, I got the chance to observe their daily lives and found them fascinating. So I decided to change that particular project and make something that could actually document their daily life.

Question: I found it really interesting that the soldiers actually allowed themselves to be filmed. I just wonder how that came about and what your sense was. Did they see the problem of what was happening and want it to be made available to the public?

Crime and Punishment

Zhao: I think it definitely involved some ethical issues for documentary filmmakers. Actually I did not have any permit to film this. I had a friend at the time, and through connection I had the opportunity to film their daily life. And I also told a lie in which I pretty much told them that I was writing a script and wanted to get some sources of inspiration for this particular script. These people were all very young and inexperienced, so for a lot of them, they actually did not give the film a second thought. They knew, though, when exactly I was going overboard. And when that happened, they would ask me to stop filming them, as you have probably observed in this particular film. That was pretty much the dynamic of filming this documentary and to approaching these subjects.

Question: In terms of the crew involved, were there any other people besides yourself who were there to film? And in terms of the presence of the camera, how comfortable were the people in the film with the camera? Is the opening scene shot right after you arrived there or is it shot some time later after you had been there for a while?

Zhao: Yes, it was a one-man crew. I was the only person there to film it. In terms of the specific date that the opening scene was shot, I cannot give you too many details. But I do remember that the way that they were dealing with the whole folding of the cover and the bed sheet. They did it very neatly every time, but they actually didn’t do it everyday. This is not actually a military military. Only when they are supervised that they would need to do it for show. What usually happens is that they often use their own covers, and they will put the folded ones under their beds, and that would be just supervision purposes. So they probably do this, as I will say, about three to five times a month. And it was probably after a month that I actually picked the camera and filmed the ritual that they do.

In terms of the presence of the camera and what kind of impact that it has on the interaction between me and them, I think that it does a certain kind of impact. For example, the old man who picks up scraps. I think that in China people tend to have this perception of the media: at the same time that they think it is political and for propaganda, they also think it as having something to do with justice. They think that if the camera is there, that means that “I am not on the side of the police officers.” So sometimes when the police officer locked the room, this old man would start to communicate with me, and we would be talking about how we could deal with this particular police officer in terms of apology and so on and so forth. And I do think that for me, I really want to tell him that it is best for him to apologize because I do think that the police officer would probably not react in the way that he had in this film if not for the camera. I think it is because of the presence of the camera and the mere fact that I was there that he lost his face and wanted this particular apology from this old man. So I do think that it does change the dynamic.

Question: When I was watching this, especially during the interrogation scenes, I couldn’t help being reminded of several similar kinds of behaviors during the Cultural Revolution, which is the fact that these faces, young officers invested with such authority. I know that this film is an observational documentary, have you had any reflections on how history can factor in on this particular situation? The other question that I have is just factual. I noticed that in the credits one of the producers was Wang Bing. Is that the same person as the director of Tie Xi Qu? And I was wondering the dogs, how they were used normally. Thanks.

Zhao: When I was on location as I was shooting this particular documentary, I realized how complex the situation was in terms of the connections or the relations between the local members, including the committee members, and the society that they lived in. And I do think that for this particular old man, he wasn’t wrong because he did not have the permit, his was expired. The police officers were actually doing the things that they were supposed to do to make sure that he actually renewed his license.

The situation then sidetracked as the son of the old man cursed the police officer. And I do think that that’s something that the police officer later on was not even serious about. The police officer just wanted an apology because the camera was there. To me, it is more about the absurdity of reality than anything else. And that is something that I wanted to capture with that particular sequence.

For the second question, yes, Wang Bing and I do know each other. We are actually friends. We are neighbors, and we live in the same building. In the credits you can actually see a lot of my friends. I really could not have done this without them.

As for dogs, eating dogs is something that people do practice in that part of the country, that is, the northeast part closer to North Korea. That is how they prepare for dog meat and eat it. For this particular film, I am using the dogs as a metaphor, so I’m sure that you will get the sense of what it means.

Question: The film that you are showing tomorrow, Petition, you started that film in 1996, so I believe that this film was shot afterwards. I am just curious if you originally intended to do this film from the viewpoint of the military police, to see it from a different vantage point. Do you see these two films as in a conversation with each other?

Zhao: I think there are a lot of objective reasons that I did these two different documentaries. For Petition, it would be almost impossible for me to actually approach the government officials or the police officers in that particular film because these are very political savvy Beijing police officers. They have all the former experiences before them and they know exactly what kinds of issues would damage them or what kinds of complications that would actually come out of the film, of the filming of the dynamic and interactions between the people who come to the petition village to complain, and the police. So that answers the question of why I wasn’t able to do that in Petition. As for this one, it was just by chance and also by luck, and also because that these people are politically more naive and less politically-savvy than their Beijing counterparts.

Question: Were there any other interesting things that you had filmed but did not make it into the film?

Zhao: I have a lot more of what I call “the boring footage” that I have shot but did not use in the final product. It makes me uncomfortable to actually show them including the cases of cracking down prostitution and a lot more unethical things going on. For me, I really don’t want those things seen by other people, so I left them out. I do think I have enough material other than those to fill in the documentary, which is after all just two hours’ long. I needed to make a very difficult decision.

Question: How do you want the viewers to feel after they see the film?

Zhao:  I actually don’t really expect or I don’t really care about how the audience will feel about my film because that’s not my purpose. As a filmmaker, I am making films for myself, and these are the things that I want to focus on: whether I have done my job, whether I have expressed to the fullest extent, and also the form, the style, the content that are incorporated in my film, whether I have fulfilled my expectation for myself as a filmmaker to tell the story to be told. So this is more personal, I don’t expect you to get something out of it.

That’s the reason why I feel very uneasy about Q&A. I feel embarrassed. Here is something that I want to impress upon you: in China at this stage it is almost impossible to get permit or have any type of approval or permission for independent film-making, especially documentary. For me, I have to struggle with ethical concerns. As a filmmaker, this ethical issue really bothers me a lot. And I really feel uneasy answering questions. I actually have to reexamine my responsibilities as a filmmaker, where to cross the line of being an ethical filmmaker. To me, this is definitely very difficulty to deal with.

Question: Can you talk more about the political pressure faced by independent filmmakers?

Zhao: I think the whole circle of independent film-making has a lot to do with the subject matters. If the subject matter is not that sensitive politically, no one actually would care, so they will not pick on you or single you out. To me, it is not the actually pressure from the top or the government, it is more the psychological pressure you have within yourself about the idea of what-if. Right now, I do think that through my friends, indirectly, I am trying to get the sense of how they perceive Petition, which is more politically charged. And at this point, it seems to me that I get the sense that they are not going to do anything that will be explicit to me. So far they have not approached me yet. So, we will see.

Question: So what are you working on now?

Zhao: I’m actually working on a project on AIDS that was commissioned by the government.

Comment: As a member of the audience, I do understand the difficulty of being an independent filmmaker in China. The black humor in this film is something that I enjoyed very much, and also the sense of despair, the sense that there is no resolve for everything. They needed to do what they needed to do to make a living. That is something very brilliant about this film.

———-

2. Excerpts from interview with Zhao by Kevin B. Lee:

Lee: For western audiences, they tend to see this film as a criticism of the Chinese state authority and police authority because the ways that the police treat the suspects seem like instances of power abuses. How would you answer to those audiences? What do you wish that they would understand?

Zhao: First, I want to say that this film does have a critical side against the state authority. Police brutality is common in China, and it needs redress. But on the other hand, I see the policemen and the thieves as victims of this distorted environment. Both can feel insecure about their positions in society. A thief probably fears that he may be mistreated by the police; a police officer, too, probably fears that one day he will let go of the right and power to arrest and interrogate people.

Lee: How big is the area?

Zhao: It is a small town, with a population of 8,000 to 10,000 approximately.

Lee: Usually in a small town like that, every one knows each other. Their way of relating to each other is probably not as strict as in big cities. However, the policemen there act like they are the big shot. They enforce a very strict-code behavior and discipline. Even the way they conduct themselves, like the ways they fold their blankets and talk to people, seems inappropriate. What do you think is the cause of the distortion in this environment?

Zhao: The police station at the China-North Korea border is a branch of China’s military force. The police officers there often do not have close ties with the locals. After a few years, most of them will get discharged and return to their birth cities to start a new career, with a few exceptions whereby the ones who are from the small villages of the town will return to their respective villages.

Lee: Does “the distorted environment” refer to this town only or China at large?

Zhao: Not just the town. I was referring to our entire political structure and institutional system.

Lee: In the film there is a garbage collector who easily catches our attention. Will you say that there is a certain class struggle associated with people like him, who come from the countryside? Why did the police suddenly pick on him for not having a permit even though it seems that he had been doing this job for a while? What is your view about it?

Zhao: I tend to think that the police has a reason to be strict in carrying out their duties. I don’t agree that the police picked on him simply because he was from the countryside. By law, the garbage collector needs a permit for doing his job. When the police checked on him, they found out that he left his permit at home. They asked him to go home and retrieve it, and he did. However, when he came back with the permit, the police found out that his permit had already expired. That was the reason they took him to the police station.

Lee: But then you see the way they treat him is very disrespectful as if their natural attitude towards him is to suspect him and not to believe his story. What does that say about the prejudice of the policemen?

Zhao: The garbage collector kept making up lies about his not having a permit. That was the reason for their long altercation. After he retrieved his permit, which was an expired one, he complained further about the fact that nobody reminded him to extend it.

Lee: As you were filming it, how did you feel about the garbage collector since he kept lying?

Zhao: On one hand, I felt that the old man only made a meagre living out of the garbage he collected, and his life must be hard. The procedures that he needs to go through in order to get a permit every year are cumbersome – he probably needs to bribe some officials to get it done for the number of permits is limited. At the same time, law enforcement in China is carried out rather haphazardly. In the past he had never been caught or punished for not having a valid permit, so he took it for granted that he could continue taking his chances.

Unfortunately, the old batch who worked at the police station was replaced by a new batch, which consisted of younger police officers who were generally less lenient. No one from the new batch recognized the old man, so obviously he was at a disadvantage. On the other hand though, I felt that the police needed not to harass the old man. The whole thing was lame.

In a twin pack of this documentary, I included a related incident. What happened there was that the well pump in a local residential area got lost. By convention, garbage collectors are the usual suspects of such public thievery. It is believed too that even if they have not done it, they must know the culprit because the person must go to them to sell the stolen thing. Therefore, from the police’s perspective, one way to such curb public thievery is through garbage collectors. Thus, the policemen in this case did have a second good reason to check on the old man.

Lee: There is one scene where the police officers are saying that they are losing their hair. What is the main cause of stress for them?

Zhao: All of them take turns to work night shifts. And since the number of police officers who work there is limited too, it is a hard job for all. They don’t usually get enough sleep. Plus the fact that they also need to take care of 110 emergency calls and be prepared for action at any minute.

Lee: Near the end of the documentary there is a scene where the police officers arrest the timber thieves and go with the thieves to their residence. This scene seems to be a very complex scene to shoot for a documentary filmmaker because it also involves a family conflict. Prior to this scene, the documentary mainly takes place in the police station, which is a very controlled environment. How were you able to film this seemingly tense and difficult situation between the policemen and the villager outside the police station? What was the villagers’ reaction to being filmed by him as they were having a fight with the policemen?

Zhao: I did not find it hard to film this scene at the time. The villagers put their trust in me because they felt that with the presence of my camera, the policemen would not dare to mistreat them. The footage could act as evidence if needed at a later point too. This was a great advantage to both my filming amongst them and the villagers themselves.

Lee: Were there other moments when you felt that the camera was having an effect on your subjects?

Zhao: It is certainly true in the case of the old man. He often spoke to me in front of my camera because the police would not sympathize with him. Occasionally I nodded at him. This simple gesture alleviated him.

Lee: Did you feel that the police acted differently in any way in front of the camera?

Zhao: Yes, they did, to varying degrees. In general, they weren’t as brash. For instance, the garbage collector’s son remonstrated the police officers at one point. Because my camera was there, the police officers felt that they would lose face if they did not pursue the investigation right to the end.

Relevant Classroom Use

Confucius (96 min., FEI Mu, 1940, B&W, Digital Beta, Mandarin Chinese & English Subtitles)

In collaboration with the Hong Kong Film Archive, China Institute is proud to present master director FEI Mu’s film classic Confucius (1940), an early 20th century portrayal of Confucius’ thought and life. Directed by Fei Mu (1906 –1951), the leading filmmaker of Chinese left-wing cinema movement prior to China’s pre-Communist era, Confucius was premiered in Shanghai and later shown across China from the end of 1940 through 1941. It was presumed lost following its brief re-run in 1948 until the Hong Kong Film Archive received a film negative of Confucius donated by an anonymous collector in 2001. With the help of the experts from the renowned film restoration and conservation workshop L‘Immagine Ritrovata of Italy and extensive research by local scholars, the Hong Kong Film Archive released the film during the Hong Kong International Film Festival in 2009.

China Institute will feature two showings of the film on Saturday, February 27, 2010, at 5:00 pm and 7:00 pm. The 7:00 pm screening will include a talk given by Dr. Weihong Bao, assistant professor of Chinese Film and Media Culture at Columbia University’s Department of East Asian Languages and Cultures. An open discussion will follow the film.

ADMISSION: $15 for members / $20 for non-members
Please visit www.chinainstitute.org/edu/sinomatheque for tickets.
The screening of Confucius is made possible by public funds from the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs, in partnership with the City Council.
Reservations are on a first-come, first-served basis.
For further information, please contact sinomatheque@chinainstitute.org.

Relevant Classroom Use

Petition (dir. Zhao Liang)

In the recent Top Ten Chinese Films of the 2000s poll, one of the top-ranked documentaries was Zhao Liang’s Petition: The Court of the Complainants. A pretty impressive showing, given that the film was just released last year and has been seen by relatively few people, even in Chinese cinema circles. Tonight folks in Minneapolis will have a chance to see what some are calling the most exciting Chinese documentary since West of the Tracks.

Zhao Liang will be visiting the Walker Art Center this weekend to present his films Petition and Crime and Punishment. Then he will visit the East Cost to present his work at the Fairbank Center for Chinese Studies at Harvard University, the Harvard Film Archive, the China Institute in New York, and the Center of Religion and Media at New York University.

Information on his films and a full schedule of his programs after the break.

“Zhao Liang has endurance, an endurance that he shares with many of those who appear in his documentary films. The individual stories of the underprivileged are what interest him, and he makes this a starting point for his exploration of the general constitution of Chinese society. Zhao captures those sides of life that are ignored by official politics and, in so doing, acts as a chronicler of everyday life. Futility, running idle, stubbornness, and stamina are motifs shared by all of his films, while the dramatic consequences of the rapid economic and structural transformation in China constitute the continuous backdrop to his work.” (Quoted from the catalogue of the 2008 Berlin Biennial)

Crime and Punishment (dir. Zhao Liang)

Crime and Punishment

Shot near the director’s hometown at China’s border to North Korea, Crime and Punishment follows a few young officers at the local police station as they carry out their law enforcement duties and features cases too insignificant and absurd to be reported in the media: A mentally ill man calls them for a “corpse” he has found in his bed which turns out to be a pile of blankets. An apparently mute robbery suspect would not provide them with the needed confession. The long and penetrating shots of the director gradually uncover the real human stories and key themes from a China that is both regimented and rapacious. This witty picture, whose comedy often has a chilly edge, provides us with an insight into how the social structure is influenced by the omnipresence of police. The film was the winner of the Best Director Award at the 10th One World International Human Rights Documentary Film Festival and the top prize at the Festival of Three Continents, 2007. In Mandarin with English subtitles, 122 minutes.

Saturday, January 30, 7:30 pm – Walker Art Center, Minneapolis

Wednesday, February 3, 7:00 pm – Fairbank Center for Chinese Studies, Harvard University

Friday, February 5, 8:00 pm – The China Institute, New York City

Petition: the Court of Complainants

Since 1996, Zhao has filmed the “petitioners” who come to Beijing from all over China to file complaints about abuses and injustices committed by the authorities. He follows the sagas of peasants thrown off their land, workers from liquidated factories, and homeowners who have seen their dwellings demolished but received no compensation. Often living in makeshift shelters around the southern railway station, the complainants wait months or even years for justice and face brutal intimidation. Filmed up to the start of the 2008 Olympic Games, Petition arrestingly illustrates the contradictions of a country experiencing powerful economic expansion. Premiered at the 2009 Cannes Film Festival. 2009, in Mandarin with English subtitles, video, 120 minutes.

Friday, January 29, 7:00 pm – Walker Art Center, Minneapolis

Monday, February 1, 7:00 pm – Harvard Film Archive

Saturday, February 6, 1:00pm – The Center for Religion & Media, New York University

Relevant Classroom Use

More details can be found on the film here.

Friday, January 29 2010 ~ 6:00–8:00 PM
$5 member / $10 non-member

This film series is made possible through the generosity of the public and private grantors, and the support of the general public. Free popcorn and refreshments will be served and an open discussion will follow the screening. Seating is LIMITED. Reservations are on a first-come, first-served basis. To purchase tickets, please visit the China Institute website. For further information, please contact sinomatheque@chinainstitute.org, or call 212-744-8181 x137.

Location Details:

China Institute
125 65th Street
New York NY 10065

Relevant Classroom Use

Super, Girls! follows ten female teenagers on their quest to become instant superstars through the “Super Girls Singing Contest,” the wildly popular Chinese version of the “American Idol.” Discussing his unusual subject matter among Chinese indies, director Jian says in the “Director’s Statement”:

“Mainstream life is fairly underrepresented in independent Chinese documentaries as filmmakers tend to focus more on the society’s underprivileged groups. Yet ‘mainstream’ life in fast changing societies like China’s can be as different as Red Guards in 1960s, poets in 1980s, businessmen in 1990s and the ‘Super-girls’ in 2000s. What are the values of the family’s-only-child generation? How do they release their tremendous extra energy and money and embrace a globalized culture? China should not be just the playground for banks and corporations. China’s new generation of independent filmmakers look into the present-day mainstream culture and document and scrutinize this crazy and confusing time of the nation’s history.”

The Sinomathèque is an ongoing film series at the China Institute that showcases contemporary and historical work of every genre originating from China, Taiwan, and Hong Kong.

For more information, visit the China Institute.

For further information, please contact sinomatheque@chinainstitute.org or 212-744-8181×150.

Relevant Classroom Use

Part I:

0:00 – “What inspired you to make The Other Half?”

2:05 – “What’s your take on independent filmmaking in China?”

4:12 – “Who are your actors? Do they appear routinely in all your films?”

6:30 – “Have your films caused problems between you and the government?”

Part II:

0:00 – Continuing on the topic of the commercial and legal considerations of distributing independent cinema in China

7:00 – “To what degree do you consider your films to be documentary and not just fiction?”

Part III:

0:00 – Continuing on the topic of the film’s use of fact and fiction

3:55 – “Why can’t an army officer get a divorce?”

5:00 – “Are your films made with a non-Chinese audience in mind?”

Relevant Classroom Use

Photo courtesy World Socialist Website

dGenerate films is proud to welcome director Ying Liang to the New York City and SF Bay Area at the end of April and beginning of May.  Ying will attend screenings of his most recent two features, The Other Half and Good Cats.

Ying is one of a select few Chinese filmmakers screening their works in the program “On the Edge: New Independent Cinema from China 2009″ at the Film Society at Lincoln Center.  The Other Half screens on Friday April 24th at 9pm and Good Cats screens Sunday April 26 at 6pm. 

The Other Half will also have a special screening at the China Institute on April 25th at 5pm.  The April 25th screening will feature Ying Liang in a Q&A session following the film.

Ying Liang will then head across the country for two events in the Bay Area.  The Center for Chinese Studies at UC Berkeley will have Ying on hand for a screening and discussion of The Other Half  on April 28th at 4pm.  Ying will also attend the West Coast premiere of Good Cats as part of the New Directors showcase at the San Francisco International Film Festival on April 26, 28, 29 and May 1.

If you’re interested in attending any of these showings please visit the corresponding website and get your tickets early. 

The Other Half

The Other Half is a harrowing political critique of China that explores the social and environmental problems facing the country, mostly through the monologues of women seeking counsel in a law office. Variety critic Ronnie Scheib said of this movie:

By having “real-life” women tell their problems directly to the camera, behind which sits a “fictional” femme with problems of her own, Ying and g.f./producer/co-writer Peng Shan have forged a dynamic dual perspective on China’s female population.

Endlessly haunting, the complex interplays between the individual and the collective, sound and image, foreground and background, all infuse Ying’s films with serene, even joyous consciousness that is the opposite of despair.

The New Yorker‘s Richard Brody adds: 

With a blend of documentary and fiction, Ying roots the action firmly in a depressing cultural context: the ubiquitous official loudspeakers blaring police announcements and the television droning patriotic propaganda belie the economic and moral corruption that pervades the system and infects private life. Filming with a puckishly bland interview-style fixed camera and sarcastic cityscapes, Ying convincingly depicts a state of repressed volatility which, when it blows, does so with a far-reaching, vitriolic, righteous audacity that has few parallels in the modern cinema. 

Good Cats

Writing for the San Francisco International Film Festival, Roger Garcia describes Ying’s newest feature Good Cats:

Luo Liang, a young man trying to meet the expectations of family and work, has come to town looking for something better but is unsure of his lot in life. His snobbish wife nags him to get a proper job and learn some skills. He responds by romancing a prostitute. His role as a driver for ruthless property developer Boss Peng soon is ratcheted up to enforcer, as Peng’s ambitions expand. His former mentor, meanwhile, sees his fortunes sink and heads for a tragic end. Following Taking Father Home (SKYY Prize, SFIFF 2006), and The Other Half (SFIFF 2008), Ying Liang continues to document the effects of fraud, greed and corruption—capitalism —in his home town of Zigong, charting how economic changes have altered the lives of many Chinese today. Ying’s invocation of the three destinies of modern Chinese man—as wanderer, corrupt boss or tragic loser—is enriched through sly wit, excellent work with nonprofessional actors and his insertion of Chinese rock group Lamb’s Funeral into scenes where the band functions as a kind of Greek chorus to the proceedings. As a putative master of the bleak comedy, Ying finds irony in Deng Xiaoping’s ends-justify-means dictum that a cat’s color is irrelevant: It’s good as long as it catches the rat. But just look how the cats unleashed by Deng have turned out.

Relevant Classroom Use

We’ve assembled an initial slate of films that we couldn’t be prouder of, by such up-and-coming filmmakers as Ying Liang, Ou Ning, and Jian Yi. And our film topics range from budding pop stars to war-era comfort women to the industrialization of rural China.

We’re just getting things underway, having done recent screenings of our films at places like the MOMA, Brooklyn Academy of Music, China Institute, and University of Maryland, and have begun pre-sales of our institutional DVD’s. Our focus is on educational and institutional sales of DVD and downloads, and exhibition screenings at public performance venues like museums, community organizations, and film forums.

So check out our film catalog, bookmark us, add our feed, signup for our email newsletter. We’ll not only be growing our collection, but intend for our site to be the authority on contemporary independent Chinese cinema. Welcome, the dGenerate Films team looks forward to seeing you back soon!

Relevant Classroom Use