Wang Jun's 10th film, “The Journey of Murder” premiered as the only non-European feature (and eventually, winner of the Best Non-European Independent Dramatic Feature!) at the All Asian Independent Film Festival‘s sister fete, the European Independent Film Festival. Though originally slated to screen in Paris, France, the film instead showed online through Youtube livestream — a signature move of recent festivals' attempts to survive amidst the crisis. Though audience feedback was nigh imperceptible, perhaps it was for the better: while visually striking, the film otherwise did not have much substance to show.
“The Journey of Murder” follows the life of Ma Sai-ke (Liu Zhen), a blue-collar laborman beleaguered with debt. Hounded by local gangsters and pressured into paying for his mother's cancer treatment, he agrees to a strange request: to bring a virgin to a rich coal miner several provinces away. The woman of choice? No other than ShaTao (Yu Feifei) – a strikingly beautiful, but mentally handicapped woman. The lighthearted journey through rice paddy fields and unending roads sours, however, when Sai-ke's commissioner reveals his plans to bury ShaTao with his deceased sun in ghost marriage. Sai-ke must then make the decision to either save ShaTao when he can, or see his task through and through to make ends meet.
Wang Jun's efforts to shine a light on the real-life gruesome tradition could not have been more visually stunning. Top-notch cinematography that meticulously, and almost miraculously, somehow coordinated ShaTao's one green dress (representative of her naivete?) with the backgrounds, painstakingly composing each scene with mesmerizing symmetry. ShaTao's rooster – a small automated toy she slaps like clockwork throughout the entire story – keeps to the story's rhythm like a metronome, neutrally assessing the passage of time despite the sinister turn of events. Even ShaTao's bedroom at one point looks more like gauze dressings of a princess-like, four poster bed than it does a simple mosquito net. He romanticizes China's rural lands with seamless idyllism, garnishing each grimy corner with a flourish of movie magic.
Beyond the pretty picture, however, the film holds little substance. Dream sequences – Sai-ke's recollections of local gangsters holding him at needle-point — are in black-and-white, but almost feel amateur in comparison to the otherwise mesmerizing landscape. Random fades to black to indicate narrative jumps feel abrupt, further disturbing the narrative flow. Sudden inserts of royalty-free music — including bland Mozart recordings and generic tinkles — feel sloppily inserted, seemingly to stir the audience's feelings but instead inciting little sympathy.
Most crucially, the film is simply not likeable. The characters are one-dimensional; Sai-ke's psyche has few redeeming qualities as a sleazy scumbag one moment and a snivelling wimp the next; he commands little pity for any of his changes of heart. Zhen Liu's portrayal is immemorial — numbifying at best — when even his pained expressions seem artificially manufactured. ShaTao's seeming innocence is stupefying as well. With little personality beyond her mental disorder, her free-spirited wanderings feel more ambivalent in this wild tale of charming nature-scapes, but little compassion.
Wang Jun has a long way to go. For while “The Journey of Murder” shows great visual promise, it fails to fulfill expectations. The film simply does not incite any empathy. After all, how can it when the only lasting impression is — “Why should I care?”
