Twenty-Five Years On:

An Interview with Chen Kaige
by Richard James Havis

It's been twenty-five years since Chen Kaige began his studies at the Beijing Film Academy. Little did he suspect back then that the “class of 78”—which included future luminaries Zhang Yimou and Tian Zhuangzhuang, among others—would first change the face of Chinese cinema, then go on to make an indelible impression on the international film scene.

Chen was one of the first group of students to enrol in the Academy in 1978, when it reopened after twelve years of closure during the Cultural Revolution. Like all educational establishments, the Academy was closed while Mao's political drama played out.

The young Chen, like most of the Academy students, had seen his education interrupted by the Cultural Revolution. He was sent to work in the countryside, in the southwestern province of Yunnan, where he chopped trees in the vast forests of Xishuangbanna. He then spent five years in the army. When schools and colleges reopened, Chen—the son of film director Chen Huaikai and Liu Yanchi, who worked in the script department of the Beijing Film Studio—took an admission exam for Beijing University's Literature Department. He failed, and decided to try his luck at the Film Academy instead. This time, he passed the entrance exam.

Chen graduated from the Academy in 1982. His first film, 1984's Yellow Earth, radically changed the face of Chinese cinema. The film, which was photographed by his Academy colleague Zhang Yimou, was controversial in China because it was the first Chinese film, at least since the 1949 Communist Liberation, to tell a story through images rather than dialog. It was also equivocal about the Communist Party's ability to help the peasants during the Communist Revolution, something that stood in stark contrast to China's post-1949 propaganda films. Yellow Earth proved a sensation at its international premiere at the Hong Kong International Film Festival in 1985. It immediately brought international attention to the group of former Academy students who became know as the ‘Fifth Generation' filmmakers.

In the West, Chen is best known for his grand, historical films like Farewell, My Concubine and the less successful Temptress Moon and The Emperor and the Assassin. Yet his primary talent is for directing smaller scale films, which encompass numerous layers of meaning. For instance, King of the Children is a story about a teacher from the city who's sent to teach a class of rural children during the Cultural Revolution. The children are used to learning by copying and repetition. He teaches them to think analytically—and is dismissed from his post. The film succeeds on three levels—as a rural drama, as an indictment of China's traditional educational system, and as an attack on Mao's attempts at thought control.

Chen admits that Together, his latest film, was a calculated attempt to appeal to the Chinese domestic market. This, as he explains below, was partly driven by the desire to help bring back Chinese audiences to domestic movies in the face of competition from foreign imports and other entertainment media. But Chen says he hopes to return to more personal works in the years to come.

Cineaste talked to Chen about his films and his career on the occasion of the U.S. release of Together.— Richard James Havis

Cineaste: The early films of the Fifth Generation are remarkably diverse. They encompass, for instance, Tian Zhuangzhuang's esoteric The Horse Thief, Huang Jianxin's satirical The Black Cannon Incident, your own contemporary drama The Big Parade, and Zhang Zeming's Cultural Revolution lament Swan Song. What do you think led to this outpouring of diversity and talent?

Chen Kaige: It's a long story and I like to talk about it. In the late Seventies, we were just recovering from the Cultural Revolution. No films were made during those ten years. Even the propaganda films were not made. Before the Cultural Revolution, filmmakers were under very tight political control. So the film industry was not in good shape. Consequently, we thought it would be very difficult to succeed as directors. We realized that we needed to do something very different to break through.

Cineaste: The Fifth Generation films broke with Chinese cinematic tradition from the start. Both Zhang Junzhao's One And Eight and your Yellow Earth were radical in terms of style, and controversial in terms of content. Was this the result of a conscious decision to do something new?

Kaige: At the time, we were not very clear about what we wanted to do or what we were able to do. But we realized that cinema was our toy, and we could play with it. We realized that through cinema, we could express our feelings about what was going on in society politically, culturally, and socially. We were very political at that time because of the general situation in China. The second thing we realized was that it was important to create something new, something avant-garde. We wanted to create a new kind of cinema language. We were fed up with the way Chinese films relied so heavily on dialog. We wanted to create something very fresh, something visually based. You can see that in our first movies. The color, the light, and so on, are more noticeable than the dialog.

Cineaste: During the 1980s and early 1990s, the various ‘Spiritual Pollution' campaigns waged by the hardliners in the Chinese Communist Party led you to deny any Western influences on your work. But today, you admit that classic foreign works you saw at the Beijing Film Archive were an influence, along with classic Chinese films and literature.

Kaige: We were influenced by Chinese traditional culture and Western cinema. We each had our own favorites, like Scorsese or Coppola. We knew of Truffaut and Godard. My favorite director was actually David Lean. I admire Lawrence of Arabia . I have seen that several times. I have done some very big movies like Farewell, My Concubine and The Emperor and The Assassin —historical epics on a grand scale. I got all that from David Lean. Lawrence Of Arabia is my favorite movie because every element is perfect. I like the size of it, the magnificent battle scenes. You feel like you are back in earlier times. You experience the war as if you were a member of the British Empire. As a Chinese, it didn't matter that we didn't know the politics of the story. It was a very human film.

Cineaste: Your early films, and many of those of your contemporaries, were made as a response to your experiences in the Cultural Revolution. How much did your real-life experiences inform the stories that you wanted to tell?

Kaige: I learned a lot of things from real life, from laboring in the jungle [in the forests of Xishuangbanna in Yunnan province]. I was sad at that time. The general political situation was very tough, and my parents had been attacked by the revolutionaries. I felt I had destroyed my relationship with my father [Chen joined the Red Guards in an attack on his father]. I made very little money, and sometimes I had to send even that back to my family. I became spiritually lost. I learned how to smoke cigarettes—very bad cigarettes actually. One day when I had a cigarette break in the jungle—my job was to chop the trees—I realized that I had become comforted by nature, by the sound of the wind. Nature suddenly became a stimulus. All I could see at that time was a huge jungle—the birds, snakes, and wild animals. I realized I was a part of that. All of a sudden I felt there was something inside of me that I needed to express. Today, I feel that my initial creative stimulus was this experience of nature and the jungle.

Cineaste: Nature, or more accurately the land, is an important element in two of your films—the loess plateau in Northern Shaanxi in Yellow Earth and, later, the mountains of Gansu province in Life on s String.

Kaige: Yes, definitely. I was fed up with all the politics that was taking place in the cities. That's why I decided not to make movies in cities.

Cineaste: The politics of Yellow Earth were heavily criticized in China. The authorities objected to the peasant rituals, complaining that they showed China as backward. The fact that Eighth Route Army member Gu Qing fails to return in time to save Cuiqiao, and the scene in which Hanhan is swallowed up by the crowd of peasants at the end as he tries to reach Gu Qing, were interpreted as showing the failure of the Communist Party to improve the lot of the peasants. Did you have a political agenda?

Kaige: We didn't consciously do anything political. We didn't set out to criticize the Party. But we were honest. Honest to ourselves and to our audience. We wanted to express what we had seen in the countryside. We wanted to show what really happened in the countryside. So we had to be political. But we didn't decide to attack the Party directly with our films. Before we started making films, writers and directors in Communist Russia were praised by Westerners because they directly criticized the Russian Communist Party. I think this led viewers in the West to automatically look at Chinese films in the same way. Yes, we hated China's political system for sure. The political system didn't work, it was a failure, and the Cultural Revolution was a terrible thing. But we didn't set out to attack the Party.

Cineaste: Do you think that the West's focus on the politics of Chinese films has resulted in too little discussion of their esthetic and technical qualities?

Kaige: I think that some people in the West like my movies and the movies of the Fifth Generation for the wrong reasons. It's wrong to think that every film that comes out of China is a political allegory. In America, you can choose to make a political film, or you can choose not to make a political film. But if you make a Chinese film with no political elements, people in the West are surprised. Sometimes they are even annoyed that you don't criticize China. They can't handle it. I think they are wrong to react like this. If you follow this course as a filmmaker, you end up making an alternative kind of propaganda, which says that China is totally evil.

The thing is, nowadays we couldn't continue to carry on making movies that simply criticize China even if we wanted to. Why not? Because the general situation in China is much improved! We have to face this reality. We were honest at the start of our careers, and now we have to continue to be honest and admit that things have improved. We can't just criticize China to ensure the international success of our films—our films have to reflect society.

Cineaste: As in your latest film, Together...

Kaige: Together was received very well in China, and it became a topic of conversation. People started to talk about the value of material success and whether it really leads to happiness. In the West, some people objected to the happy ending. But people in China do have happy lives, too! We made some very sad, dark films about Chinese history. But that chapter is over. There is still a negative side to China, but there is now a positive side as well. They exist together. We have new problems in China, and this movie shows the huge gap between rich and poor. But the country has certainly improved.

Cineaste: Let's step back to your second film. The Big Parade was very different to your debut. It was a contemporary story, it had multiple lead characters, and the camerawork, if I remember correctly, was very restless. Were you actively trying to avoid repeating yourself?

Kaige: At that time, we young directors were examining our own culture. We wanted to try to explore our own culture and define it. I think the central theme of Yellow Earth is the relationship between the nation and the land. We are an agricultural nation. We get everything from the earth. So I tried to discover the relationship between the land and the nation. With The Big Parade , the central theme is about how we relate to individualism in China. Individualism is a very bad word in the Chinese political lexicon. If you call yourself individual, people will accuse you of not wanting to belong to society, of not being part of the collective. That is not the right way to be. Chinese culture and Western culture are very different on this point. In The Big Parade , you can see the relationship between the individual and the collective. The collective will must always take precedence over the individual will.

Cineaste : Again, the authorities objected to the film. Was that because the People's Liberation Army—still a powerful political force—was opposed to it? I read that they thought you made them look like the Japanese Army—the ultimate insult.

Kaige: It wasn't only the PLA. The Government didn't like the fact that the film originally finished with a shot of an empty Tiananmen Square overlaid with the sounds of the parade. They said I was making a negative comment about the National Day parade. They said that I could only show the film if I made some changes. I told them that I was making a point specifically about the soldiers' endeavours and that I wasn't trying to imply that the parade itself was pointless. They didn't accept my point. But they did make a compromise. They allowed me to use slow motion instead. When you see the soldiers walking in slow motion, it evokes a similar feeling.

Cineaste: For your next film, King Of The Children, you moved to Xi'an Film Studios. This was run by progressive studio head, and accomplished film director, Wu Tianming. Wu helped you and your contemporaries to negotiate some of the problems with the bureaucrats in Beijing, didn't he?

Kaige: Yes, Mr. Wu was very good to us. He helped us to make new films. He was my protector, and he also protected Zhang Yimou and Tian Zhuangzhuang. Without him, I don't think that Zhang Yimou could have made his first film, Red Sorghum . We consciously went to Xi'an together as a team. I was very excited that I could make King of the Children there.

Cineaste: King of the Children is my favorite of your films. It's a small film, but its comments on the Chinese educational system are incisive.

Kaige: I was a very good student at school in many ways. I always obeyed my teachers and my parents. But I was never taught how to express myself—never. When I was preparing to make King Of The Children , I looked back and asked myself what was wrong with the educational system. I realized that nobody had really taught us how to think. We had just learned to copy things. This kind of learning by copying is actually a part of Chinese culture, and I wanted to examine it.

Cineaste: The film was based on a novella by Ah Cheng. Did you make a lot of changes when you wrote the script?

Kaige: Ah Cheng and I were good friends, and we talked a lot. I really liked that novel. But I decided not to ask Ah Cheng to write the screenplay. I wanted everything to take a different shape. The result is very different from the book. The film is one of my favorites.

Cineaste: Life on a String came as a surprise after King of the Children. It's very esoteric. As in Yellow Earth, your use of the landscape invites reflection. The bulk of the film pretends to have a quasireligious message, which you explode at the end when the foundation of the old man's faith turns out to be false.

Kaige: I made this film right after 1989—right after Tiananmen. I was very nervous and upset. I was saying that at the end of the day, your whole life is just empty paper. You think that you have found a philosophical position that will save your life, something which will help you to see the truth. But these things turn out to be false.

Cineaste: Farewell, My Concubine had a very different structure to your preceding films. The characters had more linear character arcs, and there was much dramatic conflict between them. Was this the result of a conscious decision to make the film internationally accessible?

Kaige: I wasn't trying to pander to international audiences. I took a different approach because the material demanded it. Every time I make a film, I look at the material and decide on the best approach to take. This was a character-driven drama, so we needed to create very solid characters to make it work. I spent much longer than usual discussing how I would make the characters work. I like those characters a lot—the writer of the novel, Lillian Lee, created a very solid relationship between them. But I was influenced by Western literature. I learned from Dickens, for instance— A Tale of Two Cities is one of my favorite books. Those characters are so strong that we believe them to be real. I think I succeeded with that myself in Concubine . I think it's one of my most important films.

Cineaste: The film was temporarily banned in China, wasn't it? Officials took issue with the fact that Leslie Cheung's character Cheng Dieyi killed himself during a relatively stable time in Chinese history.

Kaige: Yes, the Chinese officials criticized me because he commits suicide in 1977—they pointed out that China started to institute economic reforms in 1977. They found the fact that he felt the need to commit suicide in this period politically unacceptable.

Cineaste: Leslie Cheung told me in 1994 that you had to change the last word of the Chinese release to imply that Cheng Dieyi's suicide was part of a Beijing Opera performance, and didn't really happen. Was that true?

Kaige: No, we didn't change the ending.

Cineaste: The late Leslie Cheung was a perfect choice for Cheng Dieyi, even though you hired him only after encountering problems with John Lone. Can you remember why you chose Leslie for the role?

Kaige: Leslie was just perfect. We met in Hong Kong to discuss the role. He was sitting there quietly, smoking a cigarette in the most arrogant manner—I'll always remember that. After I told him Concubine' s story, he just said, “That's me.” I enjoyed working with him. One thing I remember is that he hardly spoke any Mandarin, although he could understand what people were saying. But he kept trying, and picked it up quickly.

Cineaste: Hsu Feng, the film's producer, told me that she was so intent on making Concubine a success, she gave you a year to prepare before shooting started. How did you spend this preproduction time?

Kaige: Most of the time was spent making sure I knew as much about the characters as I could. I became very familiar with them, and that made it easier to work with the actresses and actors. I tend to give a lot of spontaneous directions to the actors on set. But with Concubine , we also spent much time discussing the characters with the actors before shooting. It was an enjoyable process. One of the things that attracted me to directing was the way you can slowly bring a world into existence in this manner.

Cineaste: Do you ever storyboard?

Kaige: Never. But everything is ready in my mind before I start to shoot, including the camera movements, the set-ups, and the editing.

Cineaste: You've worked with some great cinematographers—Zhang Yimou, Gu Changwei, Chris Doyle, and Zhao Fei. What's your relationship with your cinematographers—how much freedom do you give them?

Kaige: It depends on the cinematographer. They all have different styles and attitudes. Zhang Yimou was very strong as a cameraman—he always knew what he wanted to shoot. Sometimes I had to really work hard to convince him to do it a different way. Gu Changwei is very relaxed. He really knows a lot about color and lighting. He will always give me very interesting suggestions about camera angles and lighting. Zhao Fei, who shot The Emperor and the Assassin , was good, too. But he was a bit nervous when we worked together, perhaps because he's ten years younger than me. Chris Doyle is great working in smaller, confined spaces. They are all very talented in their own different ways.

Cineaste: Directors had to study acting at the Beijing Film Academy, and you've acted on-screen before. But in Together, you take a major role. What interested you in the part of the star-making violin teacher?

Kaige: I think I was the best choice for the role. I considered two other actors, but I didn't think that they were powerful enough. So I decided to do it. I took the advice of a close friend, who is also a director. He said I would be right for the part, as he'd seen me be very tough on set!

Cineaste: So the way you teach in Together is similar to the way you work as a director?

Kaige: Almost the same. People ask me if I am the same person as the teacher—am I a star-maker, am I very selfish, and so on. I say, not necessarily. But I can understand this guy, and what he represents. He represents the modern, contemporary values of China.

Cineaste: Will you continue to make commercial films like Together ?

Kaige: I want to make both commercial films and art films. I don't want to say that I am only good for making art films. We have to consider the situation of the film industry in China. Now that China is a member of the WTO there are twenty American movies released there per year. These take about sixty percent of the market. So the Chinese film industry will cease to exist unless we make successful commercial films. Therefore, our most pressing task is to develop the Chinese film industry. There is nothing wrong with making commercial films, anyway. But I still want to do some smaller art films. I'm just waiting for the right time.

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