Coming full circle in Chinese cinema: Jia Zhangke passes on inspiration

By Lee Hyo-won

HONG KONG _ It was particularly moving when Jia Zhangke took the stage at the recent Asian Film Awards to make the presentation to Kim Dong-ho for his contributions to Asian cinema. It’s not often one gets to witness the fruition of an era, of history in the making.

Kim, who just finished a long run heading the Busan (formerly Pusan) International Film Festival, introduced Jia’s first feature film at the 1998 event where the Chinese filmmaker emerged as a talent to watch for. Thirteen years down the road, the 2006 Venice Golden Lion winner is a prominent post-modernist auteur.

“I was very honored to present the award to Mr. Kim. Since my first film, he has always introduced me to many people, and the farthest place we met was at a film festival in Buenos Aires. He truly cares for the younger generation of filmmakers,” Jia told The Korea Times during the Hong Kong International Film Festival, which wraps up Tuesday.

The 41-year-old filmmaker himself now inspires others. Along with his latest film “I Wish I Knew,” the festival saw the premiere of “Yulu,” an omnibus by up-and-coming Chinese directors that Jia produced. He has become a familiar face among young Koreans through regular visits to local festivals. Not only has he introduced new works at his Busan “roots” but has also discovered independent films including many Chinese ones, he said at Cinema Digital Seoul (CinDi).

There’s little exaggeration in describing Jia and Kim’s encounter as something historic for modern Asian cinema. Kim recognized how Jia’s films with poetic dialogues between past and present, fiction and documentary chronicle the advent of digital cinema and China’s entry into capitalism, presenting something new in both form and content.

“The digital medium is not only convenient and less costly, but it has an aesthetic that I’m always trying to find,” he said. Since his 2001 short “Public,” which premiered at another Korean film festival in Jeonju, Jia has explored the possibilities of digital technology in movies.

His oeuvre, crowned by shining jewels such as “Still Life” and “24 City,” captures the essence of a certain place, as he takes star actors such as Zhao Tao out of the studios into real-life settings such as bus stations. The digital camera adds another layer of immediacy and the no-cut realism of documentaries creating an audiovisual anthropological study of sorts: the remnants of a Chengdu factory that once thrived under Maoist policies or more recently, in “I Wish I Knew,” a grand portrait of Shanghai working its way from a traumatic past toward an anxious future.

“I was five or six years old and I still remember the suppression, the White Terror,” said the director, who was born in 1970, during the waning days of the Cultural Revolution. His smiling eyes exuded a pensive grace, as the soft-spoken filmmaker would pause to add more details. “I lived through the rapid transformations. I believe it’s important to learn from the past and position ourselves in the context of history.”

Jia’s work has been about capturing change. “One thing that is constant is the transiency of a people. In my films, I’ve always been fascinated by the passiveness of people during big social movements, and how they are dictated by situations. What is interesting is that political influences are still very real today.”

His filmmaking career itself illustrates the many tides that broke through China’s creative industry.

Between 1999 and 2004, Jia was banned from making movies in his homeland, though he is now recognized as one if the representative Sino-filmmakers. He also collaborated with Hong Kong firms before the Cantonese film market merged with that of the mainland, and now feels the recent industry shifts are skin-deep. While China’s large consumer pool opens up a great opportunity for commercial filmmaking, he voiced concern about Cantonese filmmakers “sacrificing Hong Kong flavor” in order to cater to mainland tastes.

In addition, there are conflicting matters concerning supply and demand, such as when the Chinese government cancelled thousands of screenings for the highly popular “Avatar” in order to show the state-funded flick “Confucius.” When asked to comment on such state interventions, he said, “American mainstream culture is extremely popular but if the Chinese government uses administrative measures to control what people can consume, then it conflicts with the idea of free trade. I hope the government will solve these issues with wisdom.”

In the meantime, Jia endeavors to do what he knows best _ telling stories. His movies, whether they exude nostalgia hopes for the future, transcend the boundaries of time and space to address more universal, human concerns that speak directly to the heart.

“In real life, when special things happen, it evokes very strong feelings. As a filmmaker, I want to highlight these intense emotions onscreen, and sometimes people suddenly realize something about their own selves, emotions or experiences through movies.”

He hopes that young filmmakers will strive for the full potential of film. “Nowadays there are many forms of entertainment, but filmmaking will endure since it conveys human stories and emotions. Filmmaking is something that can show the human spirit, and I hope new generations of filmmakers continue this.”