XIAO WU – Review by Diane Carlson
Xiao Wu focuses on the title character, adrift
In 1997 Chinese director Jia Zhangke boldly announced his arrival on the film scene with Xiao Wu, an episodic character study of the man after which the film is named. Alternately known as Pickpocket, Xiao Wu has a reputation as exactly that kind of criminal, and in an early scene he uses his deft, sticky fingers to prove exactly that. However, his notorious reputation for such theft leads to his exclusion from Jin Ziaoyong’s wedding, a rejection deeply offensive to Xiao. A now celebrated, albeit semi-legal entrepreneur, Jin has left behind the friend with whom he shared a criminal past. More difficult for Xiao to accept amidst what he considers betrayal, Ji now enjoys television celebrity.
Set in Fenyang in China’s Shanxi Province (southwest of Beijing), also writer/director Jia’s birthplace, the relatively undeveloped city shows signs of moving forward. Not so for Xiao who aimlessly drifts from place to place, person to person. His longest and most engaged interaction occurs with Mei-Mei, a bar hostess. Even at Mei-Mei’s urging to sing karaoke or dance with her, he must struggle against his lethargy. Throughout the film, Xiao’s thick glasses metaphorically communicate his lack of clear vision, thoroughly consumed by his prior life while his former colleague Ji promises to donate 30,000 yuan to Fenyang’s Project Hope.
Meantime, with more serious consequences for Xiao, the government has initiated a provincial campaign actively enforcing criminal laws. New measures are afoot, several casually mentioned in passing, including a television reporter announcing the return of Hong Kong. Largely indifferent, Xiao will meander through streets and alleys, visit an empty public bath, detour to his family’s rural home, and interact with police. Insensitive to others, warned to lay low, Xiao can’t help himself, even grabbing an apple off a cart that rolls past him. No spoilers, but the unexpected conclusion is just right, a perfect warning for all to witness.
Technically, songs punctuate numerous scenes, implicitly and often ironically commenting on action or, more appropriately, inaction. Overall, the languorous pace and episodic structure require abandoning the typical plot-driven narrative and brisk pace of Hollywood films. In addition, the cast of nonprofessional actors deliver some awkward moments as well as some truly documentary quality ones. Cinematographer Nelson Lik-wai Yu’s framing and Xiao Ling Yu’s editing complement the unhurried immersion in Xiao’s unstructured life, that is, long and medium distance shots held for inspection. It occurs only later that Xiao’s life has been consummately presented on a budget of $50,000 in a film made without state approval. In a 4K restoration from the World Cinema Project, Xiao Wu is in Mandarin and Jin Chinese with English subtitles.
