Handling pretentiousness in cinema is quite a difficult endeavor, since filmmakers face the danger of becoming over-indulgent. This is exactly what Li Tan tries though, in an even more complicated amalgam, which also includes intense erotic elements, theatricality and much experimentation.
Qinq, a rather beautiful woman, is married to a man who has been in a vegetive state for years, despite hers and her two best friends, Hong, a doctor, and Zao, a model, to wake him up. One day, though, as Qinq talks about sex, realizes that his penis is erect, with this essentially being the only thing reminding them that he is alive. Under the instigation of her friends, Qinq embarks on a series of one night stands with various men, all of which she narrates to her friends and her husband, with their “trick” actually working, even if only in the particular organ. As time passes, though, Qinq starts feeling disgusted by what she is doing, while a series of unexpected events during the “deed” complicate things even more. In the meantime. Hong also experiences her own psychological issues.
Starting with a rather intense and titilating sex scene, the film shows its colors essentially from the get go, with the most interesting actually, at least in contextual terms, being the objectification of men, and particularly Qinq’s husband. The way his penis is depicted a number of times, occasionally even “played” with, and the way the three women even have fun with his erections highlight this rather unusual approach quite eloquently, with the same applying to the ways Qinq goes through one man after the other, in a style typically reserved for the presentation of “studs”. The same applies to Zao, who also uses men to satisfy her various needs. On the other hand, that Qinq actually does this in order to help her husband, moves in a completely opposite path, with the contradiction actually working quite well for the narrative.
The stage play aesthetics are also quite intense, particularly in the production design, with the way the couple’s scenes are presented looking something out of an experimental stage play, and the same applying to the moments the three women interact with the “vegetable” and Endia Qiu’s acting in the role of Zao. In fact, she has the most vocal role of the three, with the way she presents herself also being one of the main ingredients of the pretentiousness here, along with the aforementioned theatricality.
The way sex is presented is also quite interesting, occasionally being shown through an experimental approach, as Qinq remembers (or maybe imagines) the erotic moments she had with her husband, occasionally rather brutal, occasionally funny, and occasionally even sadomazochistic. The cinematography, although not exactly perfect, frequently captures the erotic scenes in captivating ways, adding to the whole voyeuristic sense of the movie, while being the main source of titillation here, along with Endia Qiu and Jin Wang’s impressive presence, which is also captured in the best fashion.
A number of philosophical comments about guilt, sex, friendship, family background and relationships add some depth to the movie, but in the end, seem a bit hyperbolic within the already rather complicated narrative and mixture of aesthetics, with the same applying to the story, which can be explained as an answer to aforementioned comments, but does not exactly make sense on its own.
Despite the aforementioned issues, upon which one could also add the extensive duration, “Bad Bird” emerges as a very interesting film within its rawness, and also invigoratingly erotic and entertaingly titlating.
