O Outro Lado da Cidade Proibida

'East Palace, West Palace' is a film that's immeasurably diminished, indeed misunderstood, if it's labeled a gay film.

Certainly, 'East Palace, West Palace' explores issues related to the gay experience. But that's the first, and indeed facile, layer. There are more.

In its context, it poses a society in transition. It explores the constructs of power, of state machinery, and how institutions and ideas past their prime can dehumanize both parties, victims as well as perpetrators.

The film has moments of lyrical and almost escapist beauty, leaving no room for the claustrophobia that the plot construct could easily have engendered. Visually and verbally, poetry in a police station makes for near-surreal surprises.

As it builds, the film undergoes sudden shifts, rising much above comment on the politics of desire. Instead, it begins to underline the politics of politics itself. The rights being debated in that one night in the police station have much more to do with the right to freedom, the right to self-expression, the right to identity, than to do with the right to cruise in parks.

In a lot of issue-based cinema, marginalization affects both parties equally. Both the person wielding the stick and the person encountering the stick get trapped in their predefined roles. Not so in 'East Palace, West Palace'. In the dialectic between the two protagonists, there can be no clear lines drawn between the powerful and the overpowered, the loving and the loved.

Intensely abstract, and, simultaneously, intensely personal. That's how 'East Palace, West Palace' succeeds for me.

As a gay man who'd expected to see yet another gay film, I should've checked my labels in at the door.

I understand this film was banned in China because it deals with homosexuality. I prefer to think that it was banned because it could bore its audiences to death. Basically the story of a frustrated and screwed-up little Chinese queen who falls for a policeman who arrests him for cruising the park, this attempt at a movie is badly directed, incredible badly edited, static to the point of being a series of still pictures at times, with actors who maintain a single expression and have little to make one feel sympathy for them. Good grief... I sat through it though my hand itched to fast-forward to the end of this dreary exercise in movie-making. Skip this one...

It's my second time watching this film, the first time was almost 10 years ago. Still this gay- theme film remains to be shocking and controversial at the same times.

For the pros, I love its poetic atmosphere from its cinematography, lightning arrangement and the limited setting made it close to a play; and theme-aside, Yuan Zhang's directional abilities continue to surface from this film, the main scene is a small police office in Beijing where there is a fierce confrontation between a camp gay writer and a night-patrol policeman, which narrates the story of the life of the gay man. Usually I feel antipathetic against groups stereotyping as in this case, not every gay is campy, nevertheless in the film with its narrative novelty, it evolves into something could be perceive as some kind of funny performance art.

For the cons, the intrusions of Chinese opera are functionally essential but visually redundant. Judging from the conversations (especially from the policeman, a boring performance from Jun Hu), the director stands firmly as an outsider with some detectable mocking attitude, which damages the visceral influence to some extent.

A Chinese film explicit exploring of gay world in 1996 itself could be concluded as a both adventurous and smart strategy, although I don't like the film as a whole, it did help Yuan Zhang establish his status as an avant-garde Chinese director, who later films like GREEN TEA (2003), I Love You (2003) and Little Red Flowers (2006) are more mainstream and carry his own trademark, a superior feeling towards his objects (un unmarried master-degree female, the monomaniac struggle between a young married couple, the kindergarten children respectively).

P.S. - The film is adapted from a short story by the late Chinese novelist Xiaobo Wang, which I haven't read yet.

East Palace West Palace focuses on the nightlong interrogation of A Lan, a Chinese gay man `arrested' by Hu Jun, a policeman, in a park. In this case A Lan was picked up earlier in the day and let go by the officer. Unlike the others who have commented on this film, I think that the main plot point is that Hu Jun is attracted to A Lan from the very beginning and is trying to understand his own feelings as he asks his prisoner questions. As evidenced by the kiss that A Lan gives the officer when he is first let go, I think that the A Lan knows as well.

This movie moves slowly and is only really interesting if you buy into this psychological premise. I don't see the self-loathing that others seem to see in this film and was fascinated as the power struggle between the two men was waged. One had the full weight and power of the law on his side, the other had desire and sexual attraction.

This film uses very simple means to tell its powerful story. I am very found of films which do exactly this, that composes a story with emotions in a condensed way that does not preach to you, that does not tell you in bad taste how to feel, but that still moves you, not only in the theater, but also later on.

I am sure that this film can evoke mixed emotions. Because as a viewer we may want one of the characters to be the victim, we may want him to be the one at the bottom which should fight, take the battle and overcome his oppressor. But that is not how the story is told. For those of you who know Genet and have read Genet's stories, you will know the ambiguity that can be given to the oppressor/victim relation. And how full of meaning and emotions a single object or moment can be.

So if you have read Genet and liked it, you will like this film. But be warned, if you are expecting a story which delivers a story about poor gay men in less fortunate countries, you will be challenged, not to think the other way around, however, rather to view the world in more than one dimension.