Peacock: Gu Chang Wei

Growing up at the outskirt of a provincial capital in 70’s China is not such a unique experience among Chinese of my generation. Mao died right before we hit the school age. The ensuing changes, gradual but radical, were confusing at times but were never questioned by us. The old way of life, a very austere existence based on universal poverty and inflated ideology, slowly disappeared, until one day we find ourselves living in modern high-rises and driving Japanese-made cars but somehow nostalgic of such a recent and prudent past that was forever gone.

Peacock, the debut film from renowned cinematographer Gu ChangWei, presented this bygone era with meticulous details and a infectious glumness. However, its somber tone and repressive theme did not stop it from becoming the highest gross art film in China after it won the Silver Bear at the Berlin film festival. Its very success in the domestic market indicated that watching film is not just an escape to a fantasy world. It is also an experience to reflect on where we come from, to be connected with a powerful and collective past, and to identify oneself through the suffering and dilemmas of the others.

Told in three separate segments, Peacock narrated through stories of three siblings. The sister, a dreamer who was never satisfied with her job, struggled and married out to change her situation but only ended up in ultimate disillusion. The older brother, slightly mentally retarded and constantly abused by his peels, accepted everything with stubborn optimism and naiveté. The youngest brother, seemingly shy and absent-minded, became a runway kid but returned year later with a wife and a kid, a missing finger, and a withdrawn attitude towards everything.Both Gu and Li Qiang (who wrote the screen play) repeatedly told the critics that the three characters represented three types of life philosophies: romanticism, pragmatism, and escapism. But the film seems far from being contrived, and the characters were so real that we really fall for them, and eventually see part of ourselves or our own families in each of them. It can be argued that the obstacles these siblings faced in life were specific to late seventies and early eighties when opportunities were scarce and hopes were dim, but on a closer look, their struggles and their tragic fates are much more universal since life itself can be cruel regardless of time and places. And in the end, people do survive, even if their dreams are shattered, their hopes are lost and misfortune does not necessarily spare them.

I could not quite sleep after the film and had to phone my own siblings and parents just to talk about it. The film brings back much of my own memories living through that period, and it also makes me appreciate my own family. There are many understated but touching moments in the film that haunted me. It made me think how much sacrifice parents would give to help their kids, but more than often their efforts only lead to their own frustration and more misery for the children.

Gu rose to international fame after making Red Sorghum in late eighties. He became the leading cameraman for some of the most prestigious film in 90s such as Farewell my Concubine, In the Days of Sun, Devil on the Door Steps, etc. For a while he lived in Hollywood and shot a few bigger-budget films but the commercial studio system eventually drove him back to China so that he could make his own films. Peacock is a very impressive debut that could redefine his place in the Chinese film history when art films are on the verge of extinction due to the box office pressure. Gu used neither special effects nor big stars. He proved that humanistic stories with profound messages can draw audience back to theatres, especially when it is done with observed eyes and a nonjudgemental attitude towards our own common history.