Caught By the Tides (2024)

Direction: Jia Zhangke
Country: China 

Jia Zhangke’s Caught By The Tides unfolds as a bitter love story told through the director’s signature style. Although paced deliberately, the film reveals new layers with every frame, marked by Zhangke’s keen vision and unobtrusive camerawork, precise editing, and eclectic soundtrack. This culturally immersive drama was crafted from footage shot over 22 years, forming a docu-fiction tapestry that reflects China’s rapid transformations—emotional, social, political, and technological—in the 21st century. 

Zhangke often opts for silence, inviting the viewer into moments of quiet contemplation. The linear plot is punctuated by mesmerizing landscape shots that emphasize the uniqueness of each setting. At the heart of the film is Qiao Qiao (portrayed by Zhangke’s muse and wife, Zhao Tao), a model and club dancer from the northern city of Datong, who embarks on a journey to find her long-lost lover, Bin (Li Zhubin). He left in 2000 seeking better work opportunities, promising to send for her, but vanished without a trace. The couple eventually meets up again in 2006 in Fengjie, and in 2022 back in Datong, completing a 22-year narrative cycle. 

There’s an indestructible link between past, present, and future in the film that makes us experience time and place in a peculiar, nostalgic way. Zhangke’s filmmaking style is powerful and honest, and his ability to constantly surprise the viewer without resorting to the slightest artifice is remarkable. Emotion and melancholy intertwine in a fascinating yet heartbreaking story delivered with a mixture of modesty and sensitivity. 

Since the early 2000s, I've been captivated by Zhangke’s contemporary cinematic vision—films like Still Life (2006), A Touch of Sin (2013), and Mountains May Depart (2015) have left an indelible mark on me. I knew Caught By the Tides would not disappoint, as a raw emotional power permeates the entire film.

Ash Is Purest White (2019)

ash-purest-white-review.jpg

Direction: Jia Zhangke
Country: China

Ash is Purest White is the latest art-house period drama of gifted Chinese filmmaker Jia Zhangke. It’s also a tart love story that spans 18 years and overflows with precious details and a lot of references to the auteur’s previous films and themes.

Structured in three parts, the story begins in 2001 in Datong and follows small-time mobster Guo Bin (Liao Fan) and his loyal, quick-witted girlfriend Zhao Qiao (director’s wife and muse Zhao Tao). They spend time among friends, playing mahjong at the bar he owns and taking a good care of the illicit business that allows them to live comfortably. As members of the Jianghu, a word referring to the Chinese underworld, which also means trust, they act and react according to that lifestyle. “For people like us, it’s always to kill or to be killed”- he says. However, the Jianghu is not like in the old days anymore. Times are changing at a hasty pace. Whilst he enjoys living in the margins of the society, she opens up about wanting a stable life, in an attempt to coax him into the idea of family.

This dream becomes totally impracticable for Qiao after she was forced to shoot a gun to save Bin’s life from a violent ambush. While she is sentenced to five years, he does only one, after which he never visits her in prison. Immediately after her release, the disappointed Qiao heads to Fengjie, where Bin is now working. She obviously suspects of betrayal, but, self-reliant as she is, she just can’t let the hope dies and forget the case. Moreover, if something happened, she wants to hear it from him, not from anyone else. Is she prepared for the cruel truth?

ash-purest-white-still.jpg

The misadventure includes a frustrating boat trip through the Three Ganges Dam and a lot of artfulness to survive. The repeated locations and comparable characters make us think of a combination between the social disenchantment of Unknown Pleasures and the austere transformations of modern China depicted in Still Life. In the same manner, a strong female character is at the center of the story, just like it happened in the director’s previous effort, Mountains May Depart. Still, Zhao Tao elevates Qiao as the most active and resolute of the characters, delivering a thoroughly engaging performance.

Preserving a detailed, intimate, and observant style, so reminiscent of Hou Hsiao Hsien, Zhangke provides us a culturally intense, consistently-told story with a noir sense of punishment, bitterness, and disillusion. This powerful look at an ever-transitioning Chinese society comes with plausible twists that indicate new times, new realities, and new postures.

3meio.jpeg