Having never been to Shanghai before and eager to escape the Eskimo’s meat locker that is Beijing, I was thrilled when my friend Tao Yang invited me to wayfare around Shanghai for the weekend. We’ve walked miles around the old city, eaten the most unbelievable soup dumplings, and taken the requisite pictures in which Pudong Tower appears to be growing out of our heads (coming soon…).

As they say in Shanghai, 生活蛮好。 Life is pretty darn good.

oh RLY?! (lolz, by the way. Serious lolz.)

What I find so thrilling about Shanghai, apart from its reasonable temperature and welcome walkability, is the amazing cinematic quality of this city. Maybe it’s because my associations with Shanghai are all from movies (Admittedly, this is case with most places. My entire geographic knowledge of LA is based on the conversation Cher and Josh have in the car in Clueless.), but Shanghai’s reputation as a historic, romantic, dramatic city becomes strikingly apparent as you stroll through the old city. Shanghai has a charm (no matter how reproduced or manufactured, in some cases) that is rare in Beijing and the crowds of moter-bikes, low, stacked houses, and sprawling courtyards are more vivid and visual than any cinematic simulacra.

This Zhou Xuan is not the same as that Zhou Xuan…

This is a total film nerd’s dream*: We’re staying right on Suzhou River, have seen the Paramount Theater where the stars of the 1930s and 40s flocked, the 新世界 signs of old Shanghai, and seen the old gongyu (apartment) of many a famed Shanghai star, including Zhou Xuan. (It’s right beside the old residence of Eileen Chang, FYI. In case you were, you know, really curious about the proximity of residences of, like, famous Chinese women from the 40s involved in the arts…)

Zhou Xuan is looking fierce.

Maybe we’ve lucked out with exceptionally sunny weather, but the light has been soft and beautiful and hits the river and peeks through the clothes hanging out the dry everywhere in an incredible way. I’m certainly no photographer or cinematographer, but I’m all swoony over this light.

It’s all very touristy and fun and the perfect city for a bunch of cinephiles to go roaming around in.

*Okay, a Chinese film nerd, probs. On that note, I am totally missing meeting Jia Zhang-Ke by being here in Shanghai this weekend. I’m trying not to think about it.

飞机

FEI JI

Airplane

(Goodbye, America, for another little while. It’s been surreal, but wonderful. And don’t call me Shirley.)

HIFF is renowned for its promotion of Asian-American films, as well as American indies with Asian content, and this year’s selection is quite exciting. Two films that have impressed me in particular, both of which have also getting (well deserved) mad awards and press on the festival circuit this year–Made in China and Children of Invention.

Made in China is not, as the title immediately suggests to many people, a profoundly depressing documentary about Chinese factory workers (!!!), but rather a hysterical American-produced comedy about an oddball American entrepreneur on the loose in Shanghai.

Following his lifelong dream to invent novelty products in the tradition of Groucho glasses and slinkees, Johnson (Jackson Kuhne) travels to the motherland of all knick-nack production: good ol’ Zhongguo. What ensues is an always entertaining, often sweet, incredibly original film and one of the most unique American indie comedies I’ve seen in a long time. I may be a teeny tiny bit biased, since this film is about an American (yep) who travels to China (ah-huh) to start a business (mm-hmmm) and encounters a bizarre, inexplicable, frustrating, but sometimes magical world (yeeesh) and I can identify with the story just a smidge, but this is genuine and funny story that also sheds great light on the perils and pitfalls, but also triumphs, of life in China.

The film definitely has the stamp of an American indie comedy, but doesn’t lose itself in superfluous quirkiness. The film has was a huge hit at SXSW this year, winning its Grand Jury prize, which is super exciting for the film and especially for first-time director Judi Krant.

On the other end of the American indie spectrum is Children of Invention, a moving film that shows the American neo-realism movement at its very best. Directed by Tze Chun, the film tells the story of Raymond and Tina, two Chinese-American children who have to fend for themselves when their single mom, Elaine (Cindy Cheung, fragile and startling as a woman who struggles to keep her family afloat) finds herself trapped in a dangerous marketing scam. The film is certainly socially conscious and a powerful immigrant story, but it also shows great heart and prowess as a cinematic work. I was deeply impressed by Tze Chun’s ability to coax such confident and honest performances out of Michael Chen and Crystal Chiu, the respectively twelve and eight-year-old actors who play Raymond and Tina. Children of Invention has had an amazing festival run this year, from Sundance to winning the Puma Emerging Filmmaker award here at HIFF

Children of Invention has definitely garnered comparisons to So Yong Kim’s Treeless Mountain, which was released earlier this year. While the content of the two films is somewhat similar (both present partially autobiographical accounts of Asian/Asian-American siblings abandoned and left to their own devices), I was more struck by the similarities of each film’s calm, graceful pacing and assured storytelling. This films beautifully embody not only the current American neo-realism movement, but also the sophistication and global awareness of today’s American indies.

Seeing MIC, Children of Invention, and even Treeless Mountain, and meeting the fantastic director, producers, and actors who worked to make these films so compelling, gives me enormous faith in the future of American indie cinema. The remarkable ingenuity of these films more than makes up for their minimal budgets and I find it fitting that both the films incorporate themes about invention and innovation. Just as MIC’s Johnson longs to be a novelty inventor and Children of Invention’s Raymond and Tina make and sell toys and inventions to finance their dreams, so do these filmmakers who, even when the odds are stacked against them, rely on great invention and improvisation to create great work.

I didn’t really want to pry.

But! It turns out that there is a real life dwarf commune in Kunming, China.

Evidence

More Evidence

Apparently, the citizens of said commune live in little mushroom-shaped houses and dress up to perform for tourists. Either this is Chinese kitsch reaching new and horrifying heights, or a really sly stab at irony.

Is this an actual refuge for little people? A blatant tourist trap? A backwards attempt to glorify vertically-challenged Chinese while actually kind of exploiting them? Totally weird? Something that would probably only happen in China?

Yes.

Luckily, my good friend Domo Kun has come to visit Beijing from his home in Japan and has decided to document the experience! Inspired by both Katie’s Domo antics in the past (and general involvement with monsters and magical creatures*), as well as Amelie’s gnome, Domo has decided to share his photos from a recent shopping trip in Beijing. In the future, Domo plans to visit many exciting landmarks here in Beijing and also hopes to venture to other cities in China!

Domo is in the apartment, getting ready for a big shopping adventure!

Domo walks down a pleasant Beijing street. Skies are blue–an all-too-rare occasion here in Beijing.

Fruit! Domo salivates! He is partial to melons.

Domo is a kinky sort of fellow.

Domo is having a chat with these security guards. He admires their small turquoise benches.

Domo is tired. Time to ride home and feast on melons. Until next time, Domo reminds you to keep it so real it’s HD.

*I’ve just realized this totally makes her sound like Hagrid. She is not.

The End of the World and Grim Fairyland Part 1, 2007

Liu Ye’s work is unlike that of so many Chinese artists of his generation (Unbelievably, Liu was born in 1984, which just makes me feel like the least talented, laziest person on the planet…) who adhere to a more deliberately political, boldy satirical aesthetic. Unlike these artists who riff on popular advertising and draw from Japanese cartoon influences, Liu’s work is subtle in its politics and poetically muted in both its conception and execution.

Belief No. 1, 2008

Liu’s work represents a unique direction in the art of a certain generation of Chinese. Something about his side by side rendering of international icons and anonymous architectural bodies begs up some very mature questions about what it means to be global, to be at home in the world.

The Day After Tomorrow-Sydney Opera, 2007

There’s certainly a maudlin slant to Liu’s apocalyptic view of the world as he paints the destruction of the world’s structures on a literal world stage, but not quite everything falls apart. His style of painting is bold and enduring; the images are crumbling, fading.

A tree in front of the door, 2007

Some pieces of art are stories and others are poems. In an arts culture where many artists are focused not only on stories, but also stores, it’s remarkable to see this kind of poetry. Traditional Chinese paintings and poetry, particularly from the Tang Dynasty, have always focused on nature and the passage of time. In this legacy, Liu is typically Chinese–drawing on the oldest of Chinese themes to inform his work, but there is also something futuristic about these images. In these paintings, we see what is beyond society, beyond globalism, beyond cultural politics, beyond what we have the power to build.

Liu Ye says: “The West has already finished building its gravestones…Developing countries are going on building their gravestones, continuously trying to progress…If you have a look at both of the works together, you will witness the cyclical nature of history.”

The End of the World and Grim Fairyland No. 4, 2007

Liu Ye’s exhibition at Yan Club in 2008 was, I believe, his most recent in China. Lily tells me he currently has a fellowship at Art University in Kassel, Germany. He should not be confused with Beijing-born artist Liu Ye (刘 野), whose portraits can be seen here: http://www.artnet.com/artist/10616/liu-ye.html

More on Liu Ye and Yan Club: http://www.yanclub.com/wwwsite/liuye.html#

UPDATE: Because today is the day many new exhibitions open at 798, I went by Yan Club to check out their new show. Lo and behold, their new group show features several paintings by Liu Ye! I was so thrilled to see his work in person (particularly A tree in front of the door, featured above), as well as many other artists including Shen Dapeng (also insanely young–born in 1983!), Liu Baomin, and Rao Songqing. More on these artists later, no doubt. If anyone reading this is actually in Beijing, definitely head to Yan Club and check it out!