The idea is simple: get five internationally reknowned directors to make short, impressionistic films about Beijing, showing the people of Beijing in their everyday lives and as they prepare for the Olympics—and in the kindest light possible. The five filmmakers were: Patrice Leconte (France), Andrew Lau (Hong Kong/China), Majid Majidi (Iran), Giuseppe Tornatore (Italy), and Daryl Goodrich (UK). You can find a rundown of each film’s style and content as well as a link to each one.Whatever their differences in style and subject matter, they are all undeniably and unforgivably cheesy, like postcards of moving images. They remind us of those insipid China Eastern Airlines commercials—except worse—because you have to take into account that these were made by men (not a woman in the bunch) that have, at some point in their lives, made films that were actually fit for human consumption.There’s a little voice inside our head that tells us that no one likes the guy that takes things a bit too seriously and can’t see the light-hearted side of things—it’s the Olympics after all, and Pollyannish is to be expected, Olympic-colored balloons can and should rise and form the Olympic rings in the azure sky. At the same time, there was another little voice in our head that it’s also okay for us to slightly downgrade our respect for directors, renowned or not, that strew this kind of filmic excrement over our collective sidewalk. These artists are kinda sucking CCP cock, aren’t they? Okay, we know this ain’t Cannes, and that it might be considered an honor by some to be allowed to make promotional films for the Olympic Games. But seriously, is banality the new language of ideology? Please, show us more people striking on drums and practicing tai-chi in the park. And throw in some cute little Chinese kids while you’re at it. Sorry, < /end_rant_here >. We’ll start taking our meds again, we promise.
Cross-posted at the China Film Journal