THE STORY – It is 1991, and China’s socio-economic transformation is profoundly affecting the lives of individual families across the vast nation. Peasant farmers face challenges and technological advances that are radically reshaping their rural way of life. In response, ten-year-old Chuang’s parents have opted to move away to seek work in the city, leaving their third child behind to be raised by extended family and neighbors in their countryside village community. An intimate yet sprawling saga spanning four generations unfolds, navigating cycles of life through the changing of the seasons. As births and deaths, weddings and funerals take place, we witness the resilience and resourcefulness of ordinary people grappling with the burden of familial responsibility in a modernizing world that is increasingly in conflict with the beliefs, traditions, and codes of honor and duty they have lived by for thousands of years.
THE CAST – Wang Shang, Zhang Chuwen, Zhang Yanrong, Zhang Caixia & Cao Lingzhi
THE TEAM – Huo Meng (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 132 Minutes
From the moment Huo Meng’s richly atmospheric “Living The Land” opens with a long, patient sequence in which the film’s main characters unearth their ancestor’s bones from the earth, it’s immediately apparent that this story will be one of vivid metaphors and complex family dynamics. Throughout the entirety of this powerful drama, Meng weaves a finely tuned tableau of unconventional characters and challenging relationships that consistently refuse to adhere to expectations. While the narrative may be a little slow and unforgiving for some, those who allow themselves to fall gradually into Meng’s tactile portrayal of life in rural China will be quickly rewarded.
“Living The Land” follows the interweaved stories of a multi-generational agricultural family in 1990s China, chronicling their daily lives as they navigate conflicts from both within and outside. At the center of everything is Wang Shang’s curious protagonist Huang, a young boy who finds himself stranded among unfamiliar relatives when his parents leave for a more industrial life in the city. From his budding friendships at school to his gradual understanding of the sacrifices it takes to make a family work, Huang’s character undergoes a slow and methodical transformation as “Living The Land” explores what it means to grow up in such a confined and intimate society.
The most notable thing about this fierce, methodical story is the slow pace that it adopts to explore these characters’ lives. There’s something deeply personal and authentic about how director Huo Meng uses intimate long-shots and close-up cinematography to build a rapport among these characters, placing the audience directly in the middle of the action and using as few cuts as possible to maintain that sense of realism. This grueling pace will either make or break the film depending on audiences’ personal tastes, but there’s no denying the level of craft and intention on display.
Whether Meng has his camera following the characters from close behind or observing from leagues away, the sophomore director has an indisputable eye for constructing scenes that play out naturally and without intervention. His tactile portrait of communal life in rural China is almost tangible in its richness, bringing out the most understated dynamics between these characters and letting them run free among the luscious backdrop of nature. The film’s gorgeous cinematography from Guo Daming makes this even more effective, as he uses vivid colors and wide camera angles to really capture the grandeur of these landscapes that have never even caught the scent of industrial life in the city. It’s a real celebration of both nature and those who live within it, inviting audiences to bask in the same lifestyle for a brief two hours.
No single storyline takes center stage in “Living The Land”; rather, it is a dynamic blend of ideas and relationships that drift through the narrative, just like the changing seasons that frame it. The recurring motif of death and rebirth serves as a thematic touchstone for Meng’s film, whether through the many traditional funerals depicted or the equally unexpected births and pregnancies. The movie’s decision to focus on life as a concept rather than any one specific life is both a strength and a weakness; while it gives the story a universal profundity that everybody can relate to, it also prevents any individual character from achieving the level of development that you may expect from such a mature and well-written film.
The sprawling, epic storytelling of “Living The Land” is undoubtedly ambitious, and there are, unfortunately, some moments where the film’s crew may have bitten off slightly more than they were able to chew. While the story’s quieter, more intimate moments often work really well and allow these characters to blossom into fully-formed individuals without any of the transparent exposition one may expect, there’s also a lingering sense throughout the whole thing that everything is happening with no particular destination in mind. While this is part of the film’s appeal as a multi-generational social commentary, it can also be a drag when there’s insufficient narrative substance to justify such a lengthy runtime.
But overall, “Living The Land” is a big hit. A bold, audacious project that aims for the sky and would’ve hit the moon if it hadn’t been dragged slightly off-course. The film is an excellent follow-up for director Huo Meng, who shows immense promise as one of the leading voices in bringing Chinese culture and history to life on the big screen.
