A soulful melodrama about a dysfunctional family; a crippled farmer, his mentally handicapped wife and their adopted daughter. Is Zhang Jiabei's [i]Cherries[/i] as facetious as that synopsis makes it sound or is this another Chinese film that deserves more attention beyond the festival circuit and a mainland DVD release? Review after the break.
'A gift for mother's day', the DVD case suggests, as if this is some routine three-part melodrama shot through rose-tinted glasses calculated to guilt-trip complacent Chinese offspring into feeling appropriately grateful. Yes and no; Zhang Jiabei's sophomore feature [i]Cherries[/i] is certainly about what motherhood entails and the things children take for granted, but its exploration of these themes is far deeper than audiences might immediately expect.
[i]Cherries[/i] centres around a poor mainland village in the countryside, starting twenty years ago where crippled farmer Ge Wang – unable to find a wife – ends up married to his mother's ward, a young woman known as Cherry (Miao Pu, [i]The Beast Stalker[/i]). Cherry is severely mentally retarded, and in her emotionally stunted condition nurtures a heartfelt desire to have a child. Ge is happy enough to entertain this particular eccentricity, not least given Cherry is attractive enough and sexually active despite her disability. But when the young woman finds a baby girl abandoned in the woods and takes it upon herself to adopt the infant, all kinds of difficult consequences ensue.
The narrative is split into three distinct sections, bookended by an adult Scarlet (the little girl, reflecting on her childhood memories) who also provides voiceover for much of the film. First the couple are introduced, and Scarlet is discovered. Escalating tension in the second act leads to conflict and a major plot point. With this out of the way, a slightly older Scarlet has to deal with the consequences of having a mentally handicapped surrogate parent – the difficulties and the unthinking abuse this invites, as well as the drawbacks to a mother who wants to show her love for her daughter at every possible opportunity but doesn't understand the problems this could cause.
It becomes apparent fairly early on [i]Cherries[/i] is not aiming for saccharine. The film opens with the funeral procession not long after the death of Ge's mother, and it's laid out very clearly how much the family owe her – if not for her aptitude for scrimping and saving they would be severely poor even by rural standards. When it's explained his mother pressured Ge into marrying Cherry (given his poverty and infirmity, if not her, then who?) it's obvious there are emotional undercurrents here beyond the stereotypical there-but-for-the-grace-of-God view of the mentally handicapped, or the idea mental disabilities carry some inherent grace or dignity 'normal' people don't understand.
No-one represents a stereotype; Ge is kind-hearted and genuinely cares for Cherry, yet he's all too happy to use her as a sex object, to say nothing of beating her for her transgressions; Cherry is infinitely loving, patient and devoted, but oblivious to how her behaviour has the potential to hurt her daughter in any number of ways and Scarlet, as a young teenager, is in no way a problem child but still happy to lash out at her mother knowing full well how much it upsets her.
Though the film is unabashedly manipulative, it wears its heart firmly on its sleeve with Scarlet's voiceover and the general direction the narrative takes; [i]Cherries[/i] is somewhat predictable in the long run, but never to the point of demeaning the audience. Where more recent Asian melodramas such as Yojiro Takita's [i]Departures[/i] felt far too much like a well-oiled machine, character development utterly subservient to plot points ticked off by rote, Zhang Jiabei's film is much more organic, unhurried and naturalistic, closer to Lee Chang-Dong's 2002 classic [i]Oasis[/i].
Miao Pu turns in a stunning performance as Cherry, to the point she's practically unrecognisable from her other film and mainland television roles. The actress gets maybe five words of dialogue throughout and much of her screen time consists of facial spasms, grunts and howls yet she never once resorts to outright histrionics or scenery chewing. Her sacrifices, large and small, are genuinely felt and though the plot twist in the second act is obvious enough in hindsight (given the background to the story), Miao throws herself into it completely. Her grief and distress are frighteningly realistic. Tuo Guoquan as Ge and child actress Long Li as the older Scarlet are also impressive – the script never demands as much of them but Tuo gives the nervous, introspective Ge a degree of humanity and pathos even while he's mistreating his wife and Long ably keeps the bookends or narration from ever becoming cloying or intrusive.
Some truly gorgeous cinematography lends the film even more impact; obviously China is hardly short of scenic rural locations, but Japanese veteran DP Osame Maruike frames the countryside wonderfully, never rushing things, never showy and using mostly natural light. Zhang uses plenty of relatively long, static shots that serve the pace of the story as much as they showcase the surroundings and never feel particularly excessive or self-indulgent. Only one major sequence jars, where the camera pulls a long way back from a naked Cherry trying to swim, a move which feels as it was intended more to keep the censors happy than for any artistic effect. The score is also a marvel, not least for the restraint exhibited by the lengthy periods of silence; possibly the most quietly moving scene in the film (part of the third act) features no music at all.
The only major flaw is the ending; disappointingly, [i]Cherries[/i] peters out come the climax, with a final resolution that seems frustratingly inconclusive and a coda which feels a little cheap. It doesn't detract much from the message, which is self-evident without any wrapping up, but it does suggest the filmmakers ran somewhat short of inspiration at the ninety-minute mark.
Nonetheless, despite falling a mark or two short of all-time classic status Zhang Jiabei's second feature is still a wonder, a quietly confident, deeply moving character drama, succinctly written with some terrific performances from all three leads. Stunning imagery and appropriately restrained sound design are almost a bonus. One of the best films of last year, [i]Cherries[/i] deserves a lot more attention (not to mention acclaim for Miao Pu) and comes hugely recommended.