Reflection of Reality：
——Comparison between The Blood of Yingzhou District and To live is Better than
to Die
I. Introduction:
The first documentary on the subject of AIDS issues in China I’ve seen is “A man
with HIV”, made in 1999, which tells a story of a migrant worker from Henan
infected with HIV during blood selling, how himself and his family being influenced.
The film reflects the society’s misunderstanding and contempt towards this particular
group.
It is such a pity that since then, 14 years have passed, but the situation in China still
doesn’t change much. The AIDS catastrophe, which actually was owing to the
underground “blood economy” secretly approved by the local authority, brings great
misfortunes to a large number of victims. They sold blood simply to earn enough
money to survive, but never imagined that transmitting blood from the individual
body to the blood collection sites might claim one’s life.
Two films to be discussed in this paper, Ruby Yang’s The Blood of Yingzhou District
and Chen Weijun’s To Live is Better than to Die, take AIDS issues in China as their
central subject, and both won recognition globally.
Chen Weijun follows a family whose members were all infected with HIV except the
eldest daughter in an AIDS village in Wenlou, Henan Province, while Ruby Yang
has her eyes on AIDS orphans in Yingzhou, Anhui Province. Both places are the
worst stricken areas of the terrible disease.
It can be seen that both of the two directors are struggling on how to represent this
negative group who has to face the crisis of life and death every moment, as well as
social discrimination, especially in China, where the dark side of the AIDS topic
remains officially taboo. They choose different ways to tackle with this situation and
try their best to dig deeper, however still have limitations hard to overcome.
II. How to tell the story?
1. Chronological vs. Thematic
In To Live is Better than to Die, Chen Weijun used eight major solar terms1: summer
solstice, great heat, mid-autumn, autumnal equinox, frost, start of winter, winter
solstice and start of spring to link different chapters of the film, which makes it flow
fluently in a chronological order. Chen explains in an article 2the reason he uses solar
Solar terms: a calendar of twenty-four periods and climate to govern agricultural arrangements in ancient China
and functions even now.
2 Chen Weijun “My camera plays the role of your eyes”
陈为军：我的摄像机是你的眼睛
http://renminbao.com/rmb/articles/2004/5/15/31142b.html
1
terms is that they echo different stages of the mother, Leimei’s life. For example, the
solar term, frost, is just the time when Leimei died. According to traditional Chinese
understanding, frost is the period when every herb dies. Chen says: “Leimei was a
kind countrywoman with the simplest expectation for life. Such a person from
grassroots died at the time when frost befalls. This coincidence enlightened me to put
the film in the frame of Chinese lunar calendar, which suggests a life follows the
natural rule from birth to death.” But the film doesn’t end by the moment of death, it
continues with those who still live, especially the youngest son, who was born with
HIV virus but struggles to survive. When the boy finally learned to work, spring
began, and a new hope for life rose again.
Compared with To Live is Better than to Die, the Oscar Awarded film The blood of
Yingzhou District is edited in a more neat structure, maybe partly due to the time
limitation. It lasts approximately 40 minutes, only half of the former one, and has to
switch between three families (Gao Jun, Nan Nan and Huang sisters). Each family has
its own storyline, for example, Gao Jun is sent from one family to another, and Nan
Nan gradually regains the kinship once lost before. Through the juxtaposition and
interpenetration of the stories, the film makes visual and thematic links between
the topics.
(The director is good at making transition between different shots: the moon is fading,
and with the singing of Huang sisters, the night scene dissolves into daylight)
On one side, the audience will appreciate the smooth transition and well-organized
structure, but on the other, it is unable to get around the question whether the film is
overwhelmed by the director’s own logic, and in that case, can it still reflect the
reality objectively?
During her interview with Yang Lan, the Chinese American director Ruby Yang
mentioned the difference between the Chinese documentarians and their western
counterparts: “They (Chinese documentarians) tend to take a long time to tell a story
or state a point, while the most westerners prefer to do it in a faster pace.”
Judith Pernin in his “Filming Space/Mapping Reality in Chinese Independent
Documentary Films” says that Chinese documentarians choose the chronological
order due to the lack of space:
Documentaries shot in exiguous private places reveal the lack of space through odd
angles, whereas films in open public spaces have to deal with street noise and scale
differences between the landscape and the people. Filmmakers also take spatial
constraints into account during the editing process. To recreate the scenes, they
usually choose to follow a slow-paced chronological order, instead of fragmenting
the event (and therefore the space) in a series of actions as in the case in
mainstream documentaries.
2. Observational mode with elements of the participatory
Observational style is often described as “fly on the wall”. The filmmakers record the
social world as truthfully and realistically as possible, with little interference.
Normally, the observational style is used to highlight the social issues, because of
lower production costs, easier access to sensitive, and less equipment to carry with.
In general, the two films both “stand” quietly beside to observe their main characters,
without strong intention to influence or guide them. We see a lot of long tracking
shots to follow the subjects’ action, as well as stationary shots to reveal their emotions.
At the same time, we can also see interaction between the filmmakers and the
subjects.
In The Blood of Yingzhou District, the director herself does not have direct
communication with the characters, but the other crew have. At the beginning of the
film, the little girl in her mother’s arms is asked: “Do you know what disease your
mother has? ”. Later at Xiao Hua (Nan Nan’s sister)’s wedding, the bride is also asked:
“Do your husband know Nan Nan’s disease?” and “Do you feel happy today?” I
would rather call this as “interview” than “talk”. The film is searching for an answer
through these interviews, and during this process, it reflects the community and
family’s rejection these children victimized by AIDS has suffered.
Chen Weijun, the director of “To Live is Better than to Die”, is more involved in the
film. After Leimei finished her prayers in front of the God statue, he came up to her
and asked: “Are you feeling better now?” When Leimei passed away, he accompanied
her husband Ma Shenyi to stay the whole night. At every important moment, tomb
sweeping at the start of winter, decorating the house at the winter solstice, as well as
making dumplings in the spring festival, Chen was always with them together. As
time went on, his role changed from an outsider or interviewer, to a friend the family
could trust, or even one part of the family, which helped him to get a better
understanding of AIDS victims’ pains. As a result, the questions he asked were not so
perfectly prepared, but they were out of natural reaction. Some people may doubt that
the director’s participation will affect the objectivity and impartiality. In my opinion,
it is hard to maintain balance between sense and sensibility, but if the director keeps
detached from the subjects in order to appear reasonable, the film will be lack of
humanistic care.
3. Hope and despair interwoven with each other
Undoubtedly, The topic of AIDS is depressing, but what message should a director
convey when facing a life about to perish? Ruby Yang said in the interview with
Yang Lan that the film cut away lots of heartbroken shots, as they don’t want to be
too negative. Chen Weijun also tried to add some bright colors to the dark mood.
Both films begin with bitter scene, the first shot of “To Live is Better than to Die”
lasts over 10 minutes, the camera leads the audience to the humble cottage where the
family live, dirty and shabby. Leimei (the mother) groaned in bed, shaded by
mosquito net, so we could not see her face clearly. Suddenly she screamed aloud with
pain, and laughed hysterically, which brings a dreadful feeling of ultimate desperation
to the audience.
In “The Blood of Yingzhou District”, the camera captures a lonely little boy, Gao Jun
living a poor life with his grandma and a pig. Gao is totally isolated by the community
and even relatives since his parents both died of AIDS.
(A long stationary shot of the boy’s back sitting alone in the dark. He faces outside
silently. What is he thinking about? The film leaves a question to the audience)
The juxtaposition of joy and sorrow, hope and despair exists well in the two films. In
“To Live is Better than to Die”, while Leimei’s body was diminishing, her youngest
son is growing up day by day, although he is weak and slow, always suffering from
AIDS symptoms, especially diarrhoea. The camera in close-up seizes ominous
moments when the boy eats yet continues to waste away. However he refuses to
surrender to death. After the mother passed away, the rest family members are not
beaten by the tragedy, but continue with the regular life, even the unpredictable death
awaits.
Another warm and cheerful moment is the three siblings playing on the mounds of
harvested corn. The golden color of the autumn sunlight and smiling faces of the
children temporarily erase the shadow of the AIDS threat.
In contrast, “The Blood of Yingzhou District” does not have to view the death directly.
It concerns more about the children’s world. On the whole, their life is getting better
compared to the past, but the future remains uncertain, as the film suggests. For
instance, at the beginning of the film, Gao Jun always gazes at the camera chilly with
hostile vision. He rarely talks, except the resentful “I’ll beat you to death!” Later Gao
Jun is sent to a foster home, where he receives the family care and spends a brief
joyful time. In a vast field of flourishing rape flowers, Gao Jun plays with his foster
father and he laughs so cheerfully. However, rejection comes again after Gao Jun’s
symptoms worsen and the foster family is no longer able to care for him. Once more,
the little boy has to move to another place. With the camera behind the lonely figure,
the film watches Gao Jun walking towards an unknown destination and disappearing
into the darkness. What is Gao Jun’s future? Will he find a permanent home or will he
be abandoned again? These questions remain unknown.
II How real can it be?
The Chinese New Documentary Movement rose in 1990s, which is seen as one of the
most important cultural phenomena in contemporary China. One common
characteristic of the New Documentary Movement filmmakers is their rebellion
against the old, rigid aspects of Maoist utopianism and established political ideologies
of China. They presented a challenge especially to the hegemonic notion of “reality”
and how it should be represented in a film (Lv Xinyu, 2010)
The new generation of Chinese documentarians tried all means to break away from
the past, claiming that “my camera will not die”. They abandoned the voiceover and
music, but only kept the on location sound and interview, just in order to reflect the
reality to an utmost degree.
However, by now, this is still impossible to achieve. One reason is the restriction from
government. In his article “Social & Political Dynamics of underground filmmaking
in China”, Paul .G. Pickowicz explains how independent documentarians in China
walk a fine line.
In China, nuanced negotiations about content are both complicated and intriguing.
The state clearly “allows” underground films to be made. But, with one important
exception, the state refuses to spell out in any detail what is acceptable and
unacceptable in terms of subject matter. The exception, of course is that no direct
criticism of the party or state is allowed. It is crystal clear that underground film
makes generally accept this foundational ground rule. They willingly engage in a
self-censorship at the price that must be paid to make films.
For example, both The Blood of Yingzhou District and It’s Better to Live than to Die
“miss” the part of the criminal blood trade. This absence suggests that as social–
political forces manipulate as well as conceal reality, documentary exposure faces the
challenge of how much the camera can capture and how far the director can go. (Cui
Shuqin, 2010).
During the film shooting, Chen Weijun of It’s Better to Live than to Die was arrested
for four times, warned and interrogated by local authorities. The director hid the
camera in a plastic bag and walks miles in the dark to slip into the village. For Ruby
Yang, this film belongs to her The China AIDS Project, which includes the Yao
Ming/Magic Johnson public service announcements. She seemed to have more
support from authority than Chen Weijun did, but in fact was still confined within the
range of permission. A volunteer from Fu Ai Foundation acted as their guide.
Although this provided convenience, it also limited their action to seek for truth.
Another thing is the contradiction between reality and dignity. In It’s Better to Live
than to Die, the close-up shot of the dying woman Leimei raises the issue of the
ethnical considerations towards death. As the director’s camera fixed on her face,
which is covered with flies, the woman is unable to brush them away. “It’s cruel to
film someone dying”, Chen Weijun confesses, “but I tell myself that you are the only
journalist to witness the tragedy and the documentary is the only means to seize the
reality”. However, whether this is necessary still remains a question.
Conclusion
As mentioned before, the two documentaries make their best efforts to reflect truth.
From my point of view, the truth is accessible, but not attainable, as restricted by both
the external environment and the filmmaker himself/herself. For the filmmaking,
“The Blood of Yingzhou District” is visually much finer than “It’s Better to Live than
to Die”, but the latter one observes the human life more thoroughly.
Suzie Ding Duo
2012930635
Reference:
Chris Berry, Lv Xinyu and Lisa Rofel (2010) The New Chinese Documentary Film
Movement Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press
Cui Shuqin (2010) Alternative visions and representation: independent documentary
filmmaking in contemporary China
Studies in Documentary Film (Volume 4
Number 1)
Judith Pernin (2010) Filming Space/Mapping Reality in Chinese Independent
Documentary Films
China Perspectives
Margherita Viviani (2010) Chinese Independent Documentary Films: what role in
contemporary China
the 18th Biennial Conference of the Asian Studies Association
of Australia in Adelaide
Paul G. Pickowicz & Yingjin Zhang (2006) From underground to independent:
alternative film culture in contemporary China
the United States of America:
Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc.
Yingjin Zhang (2007) Thinking outside the box: mediation of imaging and
information in contemporary Chinese independent documentary Oxford University
Press
吕新雨(2003) 纪录中国 （当代中国新纪录运动）北京三联书店
卫毅 (2012) 陈为军 记录难以接受的真实
南方人物周刊
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