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Happy
Times ,
aka Xingfu
Shiguang
By
Briana Berg
China, 2000. Directed by Zhang Yimou, written by Gui Zi. Starring
Zhao Benshan, Dong Jie, Li Xuejian. Produced by Edward R. Pressman,
Terrence Malick, Wang Wei. In Mandarin with English subtitles,
106 minutes, rated PG. Sony Pictures Classics.
If Happy
Times were Japanese, it would be a haiku: a poem springing
from a few words about ordinary things. But Zhang Yimou's latest
film, with its joyous blend of good old common sense, nonsense
and circumlocutory versions of the truth, is unquestionably Chinese.
Loosely based on Mo Yan's eloquently entitled work, "Shifu,
You'll do Anything for a Laugh", Happy Times
is set in contemporary China. This bittersweet comedy wraps witty
situations, goofy characters, and feelings of love, longing, compassion
and sorrow into one poetic, highly commendable package -good therapy
for moviegoers weary of the meaningless comedic clunkers that
are continually being thrown their way.
Renowned Chinese
actor Zhao Benshan plays Zhao, a 50 year-old, unemployed bachelor
with a compulsion to arrange the truth. An energetic optimist,
Zhao is constantly using his vivid imagination to turn reality
to his advantage, making up hilarious, farfetched schemes as he
goes along. Zhao is convinced that the solution to all his problems
is getting married, if possible to a fat woman, whom he declares
to be of a kinder, warmer sort. Thus the film opens with the wedding
barter between a lovesick Zhao, posing as a wealthy hotel owner,
and his gargantuan potential fiancée (Dong Lihua). To raise
the money for the expensive wedding his future spouse has requested,
he enlists the help of his friend Li (Li Xuejian), a more reasonable
but also quite creative mind. Together they come up with the idea
of converting an abandoned bus into the profitable "Happy
Times Hotel", a nest for lovebirds. But this moneymaking
scheme quickly falls apart. Zhao is left dealing not only with
his betrothed, but also with the blind stepdaughter she is trying
to get rid of, Wu Ying (Dong Jie), left behind when her father
moved out. Struggling to make his fabrications hold up to his
future wife and to the blind 18-year-old he has compassionately
taken in, Zhao launches into his most sophisticated masquerade
yet. With the help of a bunch of laid-off friends, he turns a
deserted warehouse into a massage parlor in which Wu can work.
The tenuous bond between Zhao and Wu grows stronger, until everything
comes tumbling down: Wu discovers the charade and Zhao's overweight
fiancée drops him like a hot potato for a richer wedding
candidate.
A shot at
a society that values marriage as a goal in itself, Happy Times
is fundamentally about happiness. Through his choice of images
and dialogue, Zhang raises the question of happiness and makes
this feeling tangible for the viewer without heavily underlining
it. Some images are as delicate and nuanced as a poem; others
are amazingly dynamic, like Zhao energetically bicycling through
the streets towards his future life, a bouquet of self-made pseudo-roses
in his hand.
Zhao is the comic core of Happy Times. His nature compels him
to put all his energy into arranging the reality around him, which
results in comical situations. In one such scene, Zhao, still
trying to figure out how he will make Wu believe that a bus is
a hotel, brings her to work at the 'Happy Times Hotel' just in
time to see a crane lift the aforementioned vehicle up and away.
He tries to reason with the workers while keeping up the pretense
in front of a recalcitrant Wu, who cannot see but has no trouble
with her hearing -or her brains. The many humorous details make
Happy Times endearing, down to the looks on the workers'
faces as an embarrassed Zhao starts shouting fake orders at them
in order to maintain the sham in front of Wu, before running after
her. Zhang never overstates these moments; he doesn't pile up
one laugh after the other, which would be overbearing.
He never lets
things become gushy, either. Zhang is very good at blending comic
and moving moments, as when Zhao returns to the tiny apartment
lent to Wu, having pretended he has left for a more fancy home
when in fact he has nowhere else to go to. But instead of sleeping,
she is wandering around; they come just a few inches apart as
she moves forward with her arms stretched out while he's trying
to retreat, resembling two birds in a strange dance. In this situation,
they both have a handicap, Wu being blind and Zhao having to walk
backwards in the dark without making noise. Seeing him curled
up the next morning on his tiny balcony is evocative of both his
kindness and his schemes' side effects. While his tales are mainly
self-serving, they are also well intended. Zhao is a caring person,
but seems hopelessly unaware of the repercussions his fibs can
have on others. Wu, on the other hand, is very perceptive and
grounded in reality. She provides a stabilizing -and moving- counterpart
to Zhao, and it almost seems as if the pair takes turns being
the grown-up.
A character-driven
film, Happy Times is fuelled by emotions. Zhang not only
elicits these wonderfully from his performers, but also captures
their expression very well. Zhao Benshan is excellent as a gentle
but obsessed dreamer fibbing his way through life in pursuit of
his dreams, always landing back on his feet like a cat endowed
with 9 lives. Dong Jie, a newcomer to cinema, gives an amazing
performance as Wu. She instills her blind Cinderella-like persona
-a character that could easily become stereotyped- with a balance
of frailty, innocence and harsh willpower that make Wu utterly
believable.
As Happy
Times works its way to bleaker prospects, reality catches
up with Zhao instead of him catching up with his dreams. Happy
times do not always spring from the expected sources, Zhang seems
to suggest. To put it poetically, but not in haiku-style, happy
times reside within the creation of the dream rather than in its
fulfillment.
Published
in indieVision, Summer 2002, Premiere issue, p.43.
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