Ash Is Purest White, 2018.
Directed by Jia Zhangke.
Starring Zhao Tao and Liao Fan.
SYNOPSIS:
A story of violent love within a time frame spanning from 2001 to 2017.
The latest epic drama from revered Chinese director Jia Zhangke (A Touch of Sin, Mountains May Depart) feels less-assured than his prior efforts while also raking over similar themes and ideas to somewhat diminishing returns. Thanks to a crackerjack lead performance from Zhao Tao, though, Ash Is Purest White should prove an intriguing enough retread for fans of the filmmaker or star.
Unfolding over three clearly defined yet individually paced acts, the story follows Qiao (Zhao Tao), the partner of gangster Bin (Liao Fan), who is forced to make a life-changing decision following a violent altercation in which Bin’s life is threatened. Over many subsequent years, we follow Qiao as she attempts to reconcile what happened and find peace in her life.
Though on the surface a uniquely bizarre melding of crime picture and romance, the movie actually ends up feeling disappointingly familiar within the scope of Zhangke’s filmography, particularly with its treatment of the passage of time and its loaded political fringe.
A conventional-yet-tense first act gives way to a far sloppier remainder, which features a number of remarkable standalone scenes, but not enough satisfying connective tissue between them. Zhangke’s script also makes some distinctly odd creative and tonal decisions, dabbling in risible contrivance on occasion and one surreal moment so over-affected it veers dangerously close to art-house self-parody.
It’s Tao’s performance that almost single-handedly keeps the movie going even during its more dubious and leaden moments. Initially introduced as a compliant gangster’s moll who ultimately becomes a far more ambiguous and emotionally fractured character, Qiao paints a nuanced picture of trauma and heartbreak, with real-life husband Zhangke making expert use of her expressive visage. As her screen partner, Liao Fan also does fine work here, even if he’s understandably overshadowed by Tao at every turn.
This is a film that’s unlikely to change your mind about the filmmaker one way or another; it’s a slow-moving, dreary movie that’s impeccably acted and often visually stunning even as it ambles towards a not terribly compelling conclusion. Perhaps if it arrived earlier in the director’s filmography its indulgences might’ve proven more tolerable, yet this is just a little too confident in its familiarity for its own good.
Another tough, challenging slog from Jia Zhangke, albeit propped up by Zhao Tao’s thoroughly engaging performance.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Shaun Munro – Follow me on Twitter for more film rambling.
