Qiu Ju da guan si

Zhang Yimou's "The Story of Qiu Ju" is not a masterpiece as is his film "Raise the Red Lantern." It doesn't have the epic qualities of "To Live" nor is it as visually stunning as "The Road Home." But "Qiu Ju" may well be Yimou's most thought provoking film, leaving you pondering the messages a long time after the film has ended.

Qiu Ju's husband has been kicked ("where it counts") by the village chief. The only bit of justice Qiu Ju wants is an apology. It seems to be a simple enough request, but her search for the apology proves to be elusive as she encounters a legal system more interested in its own red tape than in the needs of ordinary people.

But this is not "Erin Brockovich" where the sides of "good" and "bad" are easily defined. The people in the legal system Qiu Ju encounters are genuinely decent folks. They are also, unfortunately, a bit clueless. And Qiu Ju is not beyond reproach herself. At the conclusion of the film even she is realizing that she has pushed the matter too far.

Just how far should one go to seek justice in this world? Even if you are totally in the right, does there come a time when you must let the matter rest for your own sake as well as everybody else's? There are no easy answers.

This is another great performance by Gong Li in the title role. She may be one of the most beautiful women in the world, but here she is not above playing "dowdy." And as usual, Zhang Yimou is nearly flawless in his direction. He gives a wonderful tip of the hat to the late French director Francois Truffaut in the end, echoing that famous final shot of Truffaut's "The 400 Blows."

But this is a film that will stick with you well past that last shot.

This is a small thing, but ripe, all about learning to naturally go out among life.

This is is first in the story. A wife demands to know why her husband was kicked "where it hurts" by a local official. Why did he do it? She ventures out in the village, then down in the city in search of answers. The tip of the thread that humorously guides us through different faces so that altogether we get a snapshot of Chinese life.

A constable arbites and gives his verdict, which seems perfectly reasonable, the accused will cover medical expenses and both parties are made aware that they were both wrong. But the wife is not pleased, she wants a more significant justice, and will go through the state apparatus looking for it.

This has led some viewers to think that we're meant to be seeing an individual being caught in the gears of an absurd and uncaring bureaucracy; that seems to be a handy interpretation we have in the West ever since Kafka. But that's not the point being made here.

Party officials, whenever encountered, are always benevolent and trying to be fair, quietly exasperated by the antics of the people in their charge. A higherup is kind enough to drive her back to the hotel on his car, another one stoically returns someone's stray animal. You can see why this among Zhang's early work was not banned over there.

But every new verdict from higher offices remains the same however, which is to say, the world is just so, maybe not ideal. Why make a fuss about why we do things, why stand so rigidly? There's no deeper reason sometimes and we're better off mending ourselves by moving forward, going along unconstrained by "right" and "wrong". This is often hard to translate to someone in the West because we have made ourselves stupid by arguing from principle instead of seeing what the specific thing in front of us calls for now.

And the notion of contrived uncontrivance extends in everything else. Zhang is aiming for a snapshot of life whereby we just mingle with things, what they used to call "neorealism" back in the day. The view it ventures to offer will be precious, a heartland generally closed to us.

More pertinently for me, it evokes a view of life, a warmth and sense of community I like. Lovingly obstinate in trying to fathom its tempests, pettiness without malice, quiet perseverance in simple things. Zhang lets all of this envelop in a natural way, as impulse that climbs up through the soles of the feet.

Gong Li is perfectly in tune with this, sublime in erasing any trace of an actor's face behind the shawl, making herself like a stump of uncontrived urges. We're meant to see that though a kind person, she's also a little dull in her fixation to an apology. And look how naturally she comes forth from her body, then watch her as the nervous empress in Golden Flower. What a range in which she moves freely.

Really enjoyed this one. Qiu Ju is the wife of a man who has been kicked by a neighbor, his village chief. She presses for an apology, largely (if subtitles do it justice) because, even though his chest is what hurts longer, he's been kicked in the "privates" and she wants more than one child. She takes her quest for the apology up the chain of officialdom.

I couldn't get enough of the scenery - houses, city, carts, clothes, painted paper banners, dried peppers and corn - and the faces of people. As other viewers noted positively, the people in it didn't seem to be actors but real people, caught up in daily affairs and catching us up, too. The nearby village is somewhat familiar to her, but her trip to the city may have been her first. Watching her trying to find her way around, haggling for fair rates and help from a produce buyer, a bike-cart driver, a letter writer, a hotelier, and a lawyer was a lot of fun. Her trips seemed like a great introduction to the culture.

One of the things I loved was how the families and neighbors kept having complex interactions with each other throughout the ordeal. And the social roles in this were interesting: Farm/village chief to farmer, sister to sister, daughter-in-law to her in-laws, Party officials to their hierarchy and to citizens, country to city, women's role in general (as in what sex babies are preferred) and the strong stance of a specific woman like Qiu Ju, who seemed to be empowered as much as frustrated by the system and by her family and neighbors.

I read reviews of this as a negative comment on bureaucracy. If so, it showed a remarkably humane one. Flaws were on display but the overall tone was of acceptance.

The sudden ending left me feeling for the main characters. I seemed to see a judgment in it, but wasn't sure what that judgment was. I wanted to know how the story was interpreted in China, so I came to IMDB to at least see how others took it.

Probably my least favorite Zhang Yimou film. Oh, it's not bad. It's pretty good, to tell the truth. But it's the kind of film where you get the point right away and you have to spend 100 minutes watching the filmmaker stumble toward the foregone conclusion. Gong Li plays the title character, a hugely pregnant woman. Her husband just got kicked in the nuts by their farming community's chief, and Qiu Ju wants an apology. Unfortunately, none of the officials she takes the case to can actually force the guy to apologize. They can make him dole out monetary compensation, but that's not good enough for Qiu Ju. Every time she doesn't get the results she wants, she attempts to go to a higher level of authority. It's an amusing situation, but the film kind of plods along slowly. I won't demand Zhang Yimou stick to his wonderful visual talents, but it is disappointing how mundane this film looks and feels. The worst crime perhaps is that Gong Li isn't given much acting to do. I love the final look on her face when the film ends, but I think pretty much anyone could have played Qiu Ju. I know, it sounds like I hated it, but I didn't. I just wasn't overly impressed with it, despite its obvious qualities.

Most Chinese movies are about victims of the culture or political system or how beautiful you men and women are kept apart or forced together by forces outside their control. This movie is completely different. It is a simple story about the ordinary Chinese people you can meet on the street and in their homes today and their ordinary lives. It is an amazingly accurate portrayal, unlike anything I have seen before. I only spent 3 weeks in China, but this movie brought back the feel of China, its people, and organizations.

Qxi Ju wants an apology from the Chief of the commune for kicking her husband in the groin. This is a story about her travels from the commune to the big city to try to get action from various bureaucracies. Although she is treated kindly and with much respect by the bureaucrats, she never gets exactly what she wants. It is fun to watch naive country girl Qxi Ju quickly learn about master doing things in the big city.

For me, the plot in this movie is secondary. It is each of the simple scenes that make this movie wonderful: The doctor's office is heated by a wood stove and the doctor chops the wood and feeds the fire. Qxi Ju's sister gives here a ride to town on the back of her bicycle on a snow covered unpaved road. They use dried chili peppers to trade for money to get a ride to the next town. Qxi Ju negotiates for the price of each thing she buys. The scenes all seem so realistic and beautifully photographed.

Yimou Zhang also made "Raise the Red Lantern" which gets higher praise, but that movie is about a world that is harder for me to relate to. This movie is like real life and real people and China today.