Jia Zhangke’s “Mountains May Depart,” which opens at the Film Society of Lincoln Center on February 12, channels a familiar critique from the director — the rapidly changing face of modern China — through a newfound emotional prism. Beginning in 1999, a love triangle forms between coal miner Liangzi (Liang Jin Dong) and Zhang (Zhang Yi), a burgeoning businessman who owns a gas station, who are both in love with local dance instructor Tao (Zhao Tao, the director’s wife and frequent collaborator). The story then jumps to 2004, and at the end of the film to 2025, with the action shifting to Australia.While attending the New York Film Festival in October, where “Mountains May Depart” screened as part of the main slate, Jia spoke with ARTINFO about the personal nature of the film and the biggest changes he has seen in the Chinese film industry.What’s the significance of starting the film in 1999?When I first developed the script I knew very clearly that this was going to be a film about time, and human emotions, and love. And in order for me to look very closely at how love, and people’s feelings, changes over time, I needed a long time [span] for me to capture that. That’s why the film begins in 1999 and ends in 2025. And the reason why I thought it was important to start the film in 1999 was because in China that was the turning point between pre-Internet and post-Internet. In China, it was also the introduction of cell phones, the introduction of private cars, and the introduction of freeways.The film also opens with a rousing dance set to “Go West” by the Pet Shop Boys, whose meaning can be interpreted in various ways in the context of the film. Why this song?Since I decided to start the film in 1999, I started to think about what I was doing in 1999. At that time the most popular entertainment for my generation was hanging out in the clubs. That’s why I used “Go West.” Not because of the lyrics — a lot of people [in China] didn’t quite understand the lyrics — but because it was such a popular song at the time. The melody and beat are so uplifting. It gives you a sense of freedom — you’re soaring and anything is possible; you’re going somewhere and you don’t care where. You’re just going. It also became a ritual: as soon as “Go West” came on all the dancers at the club — they could be complete strangers — but they would be arm-in-arm, linked up, and dancing with each other to the song. It’s a collective memory of my youth, of my generation, but also a physical memory, muscle memory. The song always transports me back to that time, when I was still very, very energetic and I could dance the night away.Do you still go to clubs?Very, very rarely [laughs]. About a year ago, I thought, “Oh, maybe I should check out some of the clubs.” But I don’t even know where to find clubs in Beijing anymore.There are these fascinating moments in the film that you shot digitally, by yourself, that struck me as these little personal interjections woven into the larger fabric of the film. I started shooting things like that around 1999, when I got my first DV camera. I think it completely transformed the way images can be produced. In the past you had the limitations of the industry you needed to be part of to produce imagery. With a small DV camera I can pretty much shoot anything, anywhere. It gives you a sense of freedom. Any individual can visually document their daily lives without any connection to the film industry. When I decided to start this film in 1999, I wanted to do research to remember what it was like at the time — how people walked, how people dressed, what the streets were like. And I remembered I had footage from the period, when I was using my DV camera to document life on the street. The first sequence I looked at was footage I shot in a club, and suddenly I felt so attracted to that particular scene. It was 15 years ago, and at the same time it felt so removed from our current reality. It was strange. So I thought it would be a great way to infuse the actual documentary footage, starting with this scene, with the recreated reality that the actors are portraying. It enhances the sense of the time.Was the digital footage from 1999 shot for another project and never used?Actually, I would usually just shoot anything I found interesting, without any project in mind. I’ve actually been doing this every year. I will devote a part of my yearly schedule to just shooting things I find interesting. Having said that, I do have a plan for the future to edit all the footage I have and maybe turn that into a film.Does the inclusion of the footage make “Mountains May Depart” more personal?I think that on some level, yes. If you look at these scenes, they represent a break from the main narrative. At the same time, the scenes’ existence reinforces this idea that accidents and setbacks happen everyday. This is part of any human’s existence. I think by incorporating this footage it makes this film, as you mentioned, more personal, almost like a visual diary.Do you see “Mountains May Depart” as a break from your earlier work?I think this film thematically follows a thread I have been developing in all my films. In the past, it was the existential crisis of the individuals I was examining. In this film, I focused on the individual emotions, and the connection of those emotions with society — the changing of social values and technology. I think even though the focus might not be the same, the thread is still there. From “Platform” to “Still Life,” and including “Mountains May Depart,” the thing you can see across all these films are individuals trying to find freedom.I wanted to talk a little more about emotion. Do you think you would have been able to make a film as blatantly emotional earlier in your career, as a younger man? Or is this something you had to build toward with your previous work?You probably have a different way of talking about emotions depending on your age. In terms of this film, I do think that without the passage of time conveyed in the film, it would have been hard to capture the emotions I wanted to portray. So for the younger generation, I hope that they can see through my experience, as someone who is in his 40s, how people feel, and people love, and expanded their way of thinking about those same things.The film shows how money erases identity, and specifically Chinese identity. Has money shaped the identity of Chinese cinema? I think the biggest loss I’ve observed in Chinese cinema, and it’s regrettable, is that the opportunity to see realistic human existence and living conditions [on screen] is decreasing. As the market grows I think the films mostly are catering to the younger generations, and mostly in a fictional realm instead of the reality they live in. And I have nothing against commercial films. But the problem is there is no room for growth or the existence of anything but commercial films in China.
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