Due to China’s complicated history it has the enviable (at least most countries would agree) advantage of submitting three films for Foreign Film consideration. One from China, one from Hong Kong, and one from Taiwan. As I am sure everyone knows, on July 1st, 1997, Hong Kong, and its sovereignty, was returned to China by the British, and though the United States has recognized Taiwan as an independent country, apart from China, since 1979, China does not, in any way, validate this declaration from America.
So, in a sense, China is three times lucky. Firstly, from Hong Kong, they have Prince of Tears in contention. Then a film I have already discussed, Forever Enthralled, is China’s official selection (anyone who has read my previous post will know how I feel about this slow loris). And, lastly, Taiwan has No Pueso Virir sin Ti (I Can’t Live Without You). This final film is the only one of the three that I believe has a legitimate chance of being recognized by AMPAS.
An actor turned director, Leon Dai, presents his sophomore effort that teeters between Chaplinesque innocence and social satire (i.e.The Kid), and a softer version of the Michael Douglas vehicle, Falling Down. Shot in a muted and luminescent black and white, No Pueso Vivir sin Ti tells the “based on a true story” tale of a father raising his five year old daughter, alone, in a large Taiwanese fishing port. Chen Wen-Pin plays the guileless father, an innocent, who, because he is uneducated and passive, is exploited by an unscrupulous employer . Daily he is expected to attempt deep water diving, with a faulty air generator that constantly malfunctions, putting his life in jeopardy. But he persists so he can support his daughter (Mei) and himself in their warehouse hovel.
To make matters worse, the police hound him for not having registered his daughter with the state so that she can go to school. But, because he has no knowledge of the whereabouts of Mei’s mother (who, along with her husband, is, awol,and, yet, considered primary legal guardians) he cannot validate his biological status. Consequently, in the eyes of the state, he is not considered a legitimate parent. What ensues is a Buster Keaton/Kafka-tinged nightmare of bureaucracy run amok, as well as a moving paean to familial solidarity.
In fact, the soft underbelly of this creation is never out of view, nor in jeopardy. Yes the drama is in the ironic, child-centric Blakeian realm of innocence lost, but the effective score, which is largely made up of simple notes on a harpsichord and flute, ensures that this story will not jackknife into violent, darker, territory. There is, however, an over-the-top, cacophonous scene that suggests otherwise, but that jarring tone is gradually returned to it’s stainless theme. Not a difficult feat, considering the gentle, glorious, open-face of actor Wen-Pin, who plays this role with dignity and rare verisimilitude. It is no surprise that he was a nominee in China’s version of the Oscars, The Golden Rooster. Though he did not win, the movie did, for Best Director and Film (last week).
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However, No Puedo Vivir sin Ti is not a flawless experience. Periodically it edges on the maudlin. But it escapes heavy-handedness because it, calculatedly, always seems to pluck back before falling in Falling Down myth-making hagiology. This cinematic trait can only be a bonus for Taiwan because AMPAS has never hidden their affection for warm, silvery, adult-child situations (Kolya, Burnt by the Sun, Cinema Paradiso, Life is Beautiful, ad infinitum). In essence, experience informs me to never rule out the film with a doe-eyed child.