REVIEW: DVD Release: Riding Alone For Thousands Of Miles























Film: Riding Alone For Thousands Of Miles
Release date: 13th August 2007
Certificate: PG
Running time: 105 mins
Director: Yimou Zhang & Yasuo Furuhata
Starring: Ken Takakura, Kiichi Nakai, Jiang Wen, Shinobu Terajima, Qiu Lin
Genre: Drama
Studio: Sony
Format: DVD
Country: Hong Kong/China/Japan

Yimou Zhang and his long-time director of photography Xiaoding Zhao, the pair of whom crafted the beautiful House Of Flying Daggers and Curse Of The Golden Flower, once again create a film of stunning beauty both visually and emotionally, as a father begins his quest to get closer to his son.

Gou-ichi Takata (Ken Takakura) has become estranged from his son over many years, and his only remaining link is his daughter-in-law, Rie (Shinobu Terajima), who is desperately trying to get Ken-ichi to see his father again. When Takata discovers that his son has terminal cancer, he travels into central Tokyo for the first time in more than a decade only to find his son rejecting his visit.

In a desperate attempt for her father-in-law to know his son, Rie hands him a tape of her husband’s television work on his greatest love – Chinese folk operas. In a final bid to do something for his son, Takata decides to go to China to find singer Li Jiamin, watch his performance of Riding Alone For Thousands Of Miles, and film it for his son.

He is impeded every step of the way by protocol, suspicion, the fact that he is a gaijin (foreigner) and, most of all, by the fact that the performer his son wanted to see now resides in a prison. Takata works tirelessly with the help of an unlikely friend, Lingo, and a kindly translator, as his quest takes him deep into rural China to find another man’s son, so he can find his own…


Those more accustomed to Zhang’s previous works might consider Riding Alone For Thousands Of Miles to be altogether more simplistic. With this film, the visuals, whilst astounding, are overshadowed by a set of heartfelt performances from a dedicated and talented cast. The performance provided by Ken Takakura is especially engaging, as his character is forced to come to terms with facts about himself and his son. His performance is both endearing and heart-rending, filled with poignancy and pain. In one conversation, realising just how little he ever knew his son, he implores his translator to “tell me about my son,” only to discover that despite their differences, they were more similar than either of them ever knew.

The film is able to tackle a wide range of complex emotions from loss, grievance and fear, to elation and comfort, and throughout the film, there are constant reminders of the level of isolation the characters are suffering. Takata is in a country where he can’t speak the language, and is dependent on a phone signal to get translations; Yang Yang is an orphan before Takata appears to take him to his father; Rie is left with only a dying husband; and the further the film develops, the further into rural China they travel, and the more isolated the environments become. The performances afforded by the cast are responsible for much of the on screen emotion. It is, however, a boon to discover a film dealing with pain and isolation that somehow still manages to incorporate a subtle humour throughout the film, such as the repeated prison scenes in which, despite being a folk opera, the warden deems it necessary to have a disco light rotating – simply because it is there. Slight elements of humour throughout the film enable a somewhat bitter film to become far more palatable.

The pace of the film occasionally develops a sluggish feeling, however, but it is rapidly compensated for by a set of astounding visuals, which might not live up to the likes of House Of Flying Daggers but still manage to create a picturesque beauty out of the most barren and inhospitable landscapes. These landscapes contribute to the isolated feeling constant within the film, and Zhao’s cinematography allows a feeling of warmth to even a sheltered cavern in the wilderness - and the very simplicity and natural beauty of the shot allows the film a depth previously unplumbed.

Whilst there is predictability within the film that cannot be denied, there is a shift in the archetypal characters, which makes the film more interesting. The seemingly generic plot of a sick father attempting to make amends to his children is sometimes overplayed after so many years, but subverting it to a surviving father trying to make amends to a dying child is slightly more novel, and allows Riding Alone For Thousands Of Miles to interact with slightly different subject matters. The idea of a child burying a parent is distressing but a part of life, whereas the idea of a parent burying a child is open to a more emotional impact. The film is ready and willing to tug at the heartstrings, and does so with as much vigour as any tear-jerker out there,


This is not a standard tear-jerker – it is a film that grips you, that you feel, and one that reminds you what the important things in life really are, if only for the duration. This bittersweet film might seem slightly predictable in places, but it is a film that truly proves it’s not the destination that counts, it’s the journey. JK


No comments:

Post a Comment