Synopsis
A film over 20 years in the making.
Years after her boyfriend left her for the big city and promised to bring her there after he’s settled down, a Chinese woman sets out on a journey to be reunited with him.
Years after her boyfriend left her for the big city and promised to bring her there after he’s settled down, a Chinese woman sets out on a journey to be reunited with him.
We Shall Be All, Blown by the Winds, Feng Liu Yi Dai, Les Feux sauvages, Άγριες πληγές, 風流一代, Generazione romantica, 新世紀ロマンティクス, Przypływy, Marés Vivas, Поколение романтиков, 풍류일대, A la deriva, Άγριες Πληγές, Levados Pelas Marés
The freewheeling mix of documentary and archival footage, repurposed deleted scenes from previous Jia productions, and new COVID-era drama conveys a sense of time and space/past and present collapsing in a modern China that is still always moving forward, forward, forward. Feels like Jia discovering cubism. Pretty incredible.
What does Jia think of the COVID protocols? The Beijing Olympic bid? Tour boats on the Yangtze? Robot waiters? Like a good therapist, he just finds them all interesting.
More on this, I hope, to come - since this is already a movie that’s deeply ingrained itself in my thoughts, and one that I already very much adore. A wonderfully creative (and innovative!) abstract masterpiece, though so much of it - primarily it's central conceit - I still struggle to articulate, yet now having seen it multiple times I've found my favorite section changing each time. Its impressionistic narrative structure consisting of documentary and not, deleted scenes from old films and brand new footage feels less like a straight line than a collection of memories structured into something I have never seen before. In fact, this is practically a remake of Ash Is Purest White, and at the same…
for jia, to age is to become dignified but uncool. strangely apropos that his images actually get less wrinkly as time passes. on a long enough timescale, everything seedy and jagged becomes classy and smooth. zhao tao is one of the most captivating screen presences of all time. she's like the mona lisa, you seem to always be able to see the gears turning in her head (the film gets one of its best gags out of her enigmatic expressions).
letting those SOV images wash over me from the 4th row of alice tully, i was in esther heaven. probably the cinema experience of the year, for me.
a talismanic film found beneath the digital trash-stratum, coordinated somewhere between a chopped & screwed wang bing doc, a late-godard domestic remix, and an arthur lipsett pop music video -- which is to say it's another masterwork from one of cinema's brightest souls, essential viewing for what the medium must become, hell or high water -- no exaggeration, no hyperbole needed: if you're not on this wavelength, you're simply doing yourself a disservice.
a silent zhao tao chases after li zhubin's brother bin, who comes to be an architect of china's 21st century modernity, a sort of inverse doppelgänger to ash is purest white's brother bin, not a masculine gangster out of time, but a man thinking he's keeping up with…
More than just reusing footage that belong to early shoots, this feels like a more ample rethinking of a lot of strands of Jia’s drama and aesthetic strategies as they relate to China as a whole. A fascinating auteurist object, even more so because it does look forward. Ingenuous conceived, if not always successful, a reminder that his eye is consistently great and that Zhao Tao is one of film’s most compelling presences.
A searching and scattershot portrait of displacement that’s as likely to resonate with Jia Zhang-ke devotees as it is to mystify those who are new to his work, “Caught by the Tides” finds the Chinese auteur returning the most pivotal characters and locations that have defined his movies over the last two decades. Then again, perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he never left them.
Tracing the faintest contours of a scripted love story around the scaffolding of some documentary footage that Jia has collected over the course of 22 years, this elusive chimera of a film strains to literalize the delicate relationship between time and memory — a theme that has become increasingly central to the…
The way Jia tracks time via handheld mini DV to robotic security cam footage is truly astonishing. Decades traversed through a digital void where memories are pixelated and fragmented. That transition from the aerial view of the ballroom into the grocery store oranges may be the single greatest moment in cinema, give or take. Felt my brain disintegrate. The dream sequence/video game, too. This moved me more than anything I’ve seen in years. Some of my favorite marriages of image and theme, maybe ever. Every frame of this film is in contention for my favorite images ever. So into how nebulous and malformed the early images are, mirroring the uncertainty ahead of our leads, their possibilities endless, only to end up in flattened and smooth modernity. It’s really something.
Zhao Tao, man. Jesus Christ.
The subject position of Communist youth was not gender specific. Clinging to this position, young women like me sensed few gender constraints in our devotion to the revolution. Numerous young female leaders emerged on this island with eight farms. This cohort never believed in female inferiority and were free from social expectations of the roles of wife and mother. Femininity was not defined as performing the traditional roles of wife and mother. To be a good female youth was to devote herself heart and soul to the revolution...In those intoxicating moments with many young likeminded dreamers, I was a revolutionary youth, a Communist Party member. My gender was irrelevant.
- Wang Zheng
Follows the general contour of a Jia Zhangke…
“I was twenty-three years old when I enrolled in the Beijing Film Academy. Most of my classmates were teenagers who had just graduated from high school, and I was five years older. Unlike them, I had no time to lose. For me, it was the end of being carefree. For them, life still had all its freshness but I already felt old. In the evening, my favorite place to be was the study room where we could smoke. I would bring green graph paper and a pen, sit down, light a cigarette, and start to write. There wouldn’t be many people there, and everyone seemed sad. We were a handful of intellectuals experiencing hardship.
“My cheap pen would make its…
Immense. The propulsive, unfeeling wake of China’s progress hand-in-hand with Jia’s entire career. Unprecedented formal daring wrapped in a singular, quiet Zhao Tao performance. Instant best of the year territory.
Saw this while flying to China, and it felt like the right film for this moment. Jia Zhangke takes me on almost two hours of an introspective journey through his cinematic work, reflecting on love, loss, and the impermanence of relationships. At the center is a failed romance, but the film also opens a window into China in rapid transformation, showing how people navigate personal grief alongside social change.
China is one of the countries that has changed fastest in the 21st century, and Jia Zhangke, through his previous works, has captured that change better than anyone else. This film feels like the result of all Jia Zhangke’s efforts to show how time wears down people and places. It…
Practically impossible to want to write on this again (not that I nailed it the first time) without wanting to be deliberately a bit obtuse, or at least a bit abstract. This is essentially "Historical Determinism: The Movie," and yet its poignancy is overwhelming - almost unbearably so. This is 21st Century cinema: a logical structure, even narrative storytelling, by way of aesthetic and intellectual bricolage. And montage in 2024 that takes us back to the silent era. That's not to say it's "pure vibes" - the middle section in particular and the way Jia connects the community displacement from the Three Gorges disaster with the emergence of privatized business as well as Western investment - including religion - is…