Saturday, April 15, 2017

Not One Less (1999)

Zhang Yimou might be best known in the west for directing action flicks, including the wuxia variety, like Hero and House of Flying Daggers. Most recently, he has disappointed audiences with The Great Wall. But I have seen even more of his films in the drama genre, most of them following common hardships of people in China. This is one of those.

In a remote village, the only available substitute teacher at a dwindling elementary school is 13-year-old Wei Minzhi. She has been promised a monetary reward if none of the students drop out during her month of teaching. When 11-year-old Zhang Huike gets sent to the nearest city, Zhangjiakou, for work, Wei and the class put their heads together for the best way to fetch him. Ultimately, Wei alone heads for the city, with very little money to spend.

I have to wonder whether payment is Wei's primary motivation. It quickly becomes clear that the mayor who hired her spoke of money not yet available, and there's no guarantee she'll ever see it even if she does everything right. Since Zhang left to alleviate family debt, he might not agree to return anyway. Part of me expected him to come home only to go right back out of necessity (the director doesn't shy away from sad endings). Nevertheless, the crisis does bring her closer to the other students, even as she prepares to leave them unsupervised like the shepherd in a biblical parable. Besides, it's good that she doesn't assume he'll be fine, because he got separated from his would-be employer and co-workers. Whether he deliberately escaped or simply got lost, he has little choice but to beg in the marketplace.

For me, Wei's situation is still more painful to watch than Zhang's, starting with her obvious unreadiness for the job. She's way too shy in the beginning, and it's no wonder that a student only two years her junior doesn't respect her authority. (The class spans a wide age range; he might be the oldest at the time.) When she does assert herself, it's in a rather immature and unruly fashion, by the standards of any culture. She really ought to rely more on adult guidance; many of her tremendous efforts go completely to waste. Only strenuous persistence ever gets her anywhere. Perhaps the most impressive thing is how long she takes to start crying.

Late in the movie, I paused and thought about saving the rest for another night, because it was feeling relentless. Well, I don't consider it much of a spoiler to say that there is a happy ending, since (1) it's not terribly unpredictable and (2) it might make a positive difference in whether you care to watch. I'll refrain from telling you what exactly saves the day; suffice it to say that these were the days before China had really discovered online connectivity, insofar as it has.

It ends up rather heartwarming. That's helped along in part by the lack of villains. Apart from Zhang Huike acting like an imp, the worst we see in people is a low amount of care, at least in comparison to their other obligations. And we learn that plenty of others do care once the message gets through to them. The only Zhang Yimou film I know to come anywhere close in uplift is The Road Home, and that has a plot so stultifyingly simple that it would never have sold in the U.S. if not for the early-2000s popularity of Zhang Ziyi. (Hope you can keep all the Zhangs straight.)

My respect for NOL jumped a few notches when the end credits rolled. Most major characters used the actors' real names -- and the actors weren't really actors; they were from backgrounds similar to the characters'. That would explain why, while the acting is less than spectacular, the story feels so authentic. Credits indicate that it didn't really happen, but it could have.

In light of this viewing, I have added a few more Zhang Yimou flicks to my queue. They don't always appeal to me, but at least they differ from most of my other fare.

No comments:

Post a Comment