Certain things are relentless and inescapable. For some things – like the slow, age-related decline of brain and the ongoing problem of China's urban re housing – it's only a matter of time. Directress Yang Liu's bitter sweet “A Matter of Time” is a poignant snapshot of a woman who is about to lose her past, in both material and immaterial way.
“A Matter of Time” review is part of the Submit Your Film Initiative
Ying (Yang Cao) is an elderly lady who still works as a seamstress in her own little shop. Life must have been hard on her but she seems to have settled into her little cocoon-y routine of home, work and her pet parrots. However, there is a dissonant note in the picture. She can be forgetful; she forgets her daughter Xiao Yu (Chengcheng Fang) and nephew Wei Wei are visiting on Saturday, she forgets to turn on the gas under the wok and she seems lost at times. Her temper is quite short too and she angrily refuses her daughter's offer to visit a nice nursing home. In fact, Ying, like all her neighbours, has been offered a compensation to give up her flat, as the whole building (and neighbour) is undergoing a massive process of acquisition, eviction/relocation and demolition. Understandably, Ying doesn't want to leave; her whole life and memories are there, and no money or the allure of a comfortable nursing home could repay that loss. But there isn't much she can do to stop the process.
Yang Liu pens, directs and edits a short but powerful episode in the life of a woman who represents a vast slice of China's population, affected by the struggle over the demolition and redevelopment going on across the whole country. China's urban housing “chaiqian” (demolition and eviction/relocation) has become a field of great conflicts in the recent years, a controvert political issue involving power of local officials who are pushed to deliver economic growth, fairness of compensation and the idea itself of progress.
“A Matter of Time” gently addresses all these issues in a humanistic fashion. Through the emotional distress and the mental deterioration of Ying who is in the early stage of dementia, we are presented with a sorrow and fatalistic portrait of both a woman and a country whose memory is crumbling away. Bombastic words from the TV newsreader resonate in Yang's living room; citizens are exhorted to understand the spiritual essence of Xi Jinping's thoughts on “Socialism with Chinese Characteristics” in the new era, and how they relate to land acquisition, demolition, relocation and other vital tasks. Words that, in the context of Yang's modest living room, filled with memories and relics, create a strong contrast, making them void of any meaning. Cleverly, the script hints to one more contentious aspect of the same problem. The redevelopment process, besides evicting many urban residents, also gives work to lots of other people – like Ying's daughter who works for a construction company – making the collective benefits sadly clashing with the rights of the individuals.
Yang Cao in the role of Ying is truly extraordinary. She infuses the character with a fiery, don-quixote-esque determination, mixed with the sheer terror for what's to come; the title of the movie is all in her eyes in the final scene. Her willowy figure, frail but un-snappable, is beautifully caught by Qingzi Wang's cinematography, especially in intimate closeups or in the long shots where she paces back and forward across the changing landscape of her neighbours.
Two huge issues like age concern and urban housing, one of the individuals, the other of the community, are addressed and paired in “A matter of Time”. However, with measured storytelling and lightness of touch, the film manages to present them and dignify them through the eyes of a relatable character, in the tiny span of 15 minutes. The film is Yang Liu's final work for her Master in Fine Arts in the Film & Media Degree at Emerson College; hopefully the beginning of a fruitful career in the film industry.
