MCLC: interview with Vivian Qu

[Denton, Kirk]

MCLC LIST
From: Xin Zhou <xin.zhou66 at gmail.com>
Subject: interview with Vivian Qu
*********************************************************

Source: Film Comment (#/28/14):
http://www.filmcomment.com/entry/interview-vivian-qu

Interview: Vivian Qu at New Directors / New Films
By Xin Zhou

Largely because of the advent of digital cinema, the number of indie film
productions in China has grown annually, but indie film festivalshave been
forced to go underground. Indie music festivals once encountered similar
challenges, gaining success as part of the local tourist economy but with
the understanding that politically sensitive content would be removed. The
same situation holds in indie film production today, with compromises
necessary in order to have a commercial theatrical release.

Vivian Qu, one of the few producers of independent film in China, has
produced films such as Diao Yinan’s Black Coal, Thin Ice—winner of the
Golden Bear for Best Film at this year’s Berlinale. Trap Street, her
directorial debut, is a critical look at the role of technology in
contemporary lifethat follows a digital-mapping engineer who becomes
fascinated with a beautiful woman he spots in the street. The woman works
at a mysterious place called Forest Lane that can’t be registered into the
digital map system, and as the engineer’s curiosity about the woman
intertwines with his concern about the system, the trap of the title
reveals new dimensions.

FILM COMMENT spoke with Qu about her early years in New York, the idea of
spying and being spied upon, and life as an independent producer and
filmmaker in China today. Trap Street screens on March 28 and 29 in New
Directors / New Films.

Q. Where are you based now? I understand you spent quite a few years in
New York.

A. In 2003 I returned to Beijing where I grew up after having spent some
years abroad. I was in New York to pursue my interest in the visual arts,
but I discovered cinema. I felt really fortunate because it ended my
anxiety of having to choose one thing over another for a career, because
all my interests—writing, photography, music, etc.—can come together in
one art form. TheFilm Society at Lincoln Center and MoMA were among my
favorite places for films.

Q. How did the story come about? It starts as a story about a man tracking
a woman, then slowly becomes a psychodrama.

A. What I wanted to portray in the first place was this feeling of
watching and being watched, which has obviously become one of the most
significant characteristics of modern life. Since the 2008 Beijing
Olympics, this feeling has been reinforced, distorted, and multiplied in
many different ways. What propelled such a phenomenon? Can we even find
out? The paradox is, today’s technology should enable us to discover
truth, but it’s never been this difficult to tell the real from the
unreal. I didn’t want my film to be a simple record of a particular event;
I want it to be a synthesis of my thoughts and observations. Even if I
cannot find the answer, at least I can raise the question: does 90 percent
freedom amount to true freedom?

The discovery of the term “trap street”—a fake street inserted on a map as
a trap for potential copyright violators–was key to constructing the
story. It plays right into the idea of real and unreal.

Q. Guan Lifen (He Wenchao), the woman whom the engineer follows, feels
like she comes from a French film from the Sixties—mature, pretty, and
always sad.

A. Are you sure French, not Italian? Actually, when I was in the casting
process I told my team that I was looking for a Monica Vitti. It was a bit
puzzling to them and someone actually recommended a Eurasian girl. I
wanted a woman who possesses not only innocence, but also maturity and
complexity. She may not always be sad, but she certainly should do a lot
with few words.

Q. The digital cinematography by Matthieu Laclau and Tian Li gives the
images a hyperreality, and the lighting is meticulously designed,
especially in the dance scene.

A. I want the film to be a realistic portrayal of contemporary life. So I
treat each scene as a faithful slice-of-life vignette. Although many North
American viewers have commented on the film’s noirish tone, I refrained
from using lighting as a tool to interfere or heighten the dramatic
effect. One thing that my lighting designer and I agreed ever since our
first discussion is that we will not use any colored lights. If I strive
for anything, it is clarity. I want the audience to see everything yet
still not know if what they see is the truth.

Q. Nobody in the film wears uniforms, even those who take the engineer, Li
Qiuming, into custody.

A. I have to be true to reality when it comes to details like this. At the
same time I prefer to keep this unintentional vagueness, like many other
aspects in the story, because who they are, what they represent, we can
never know.

Q. Could you elaborate on your understanding of technology in contemporary
life, especially the notion of privacy in relation to technology?

A. Is there a fine line between protection and intrusion? No, there is
not. It’s a dilemma with which we have to live in our hyper-technological
society. I just hope we are not creating a monster that will come back to
haunt us in the future. Or have we done it already?

Q. Did you have any expectation that this film could be shown commercially
in China before you started the project? Because it seems that political
censorship is still going to be there for quite some time, both for
domestic and the growing number of foreign films imported from Hollywood
and elsewhere.

A. This is my first film, so I wanted total creative freedom. This is
something I discussed with my producer Sean Chen even at the script stage.
He was the executive producer of Night Train [2007; directed by Diao
Yinan], and did not want these concerns to interfere with my creative
process. So he let me do what I wanted and assured me that “we’ll figure
out a way somehow.” Otherwise it would be a very different film.

Q. I find one scene quite intriguing, when Li Qiuming's father,
editor-in-chief at Woman’s Living magazine, lectures about recruiting
women onto the staff, which is all men. Yang Lina's Longing for the Rain,
another film you produced, is sort of a feminist psychodrama. Perhaps you
could talk a bit about the role of woman in the film business, as well as
in the Chinese society.

A. That’s another paradox in the modern Chinese society. Women have
assumed important roles both socially and economically, but in the
national psyche, the absence of women’s identity or consciousness is still
very much the case. The Woman’s Magazine scene doesn’t need to be taken
literally; it is a joke about this absence. Yang Lina’s film still makes
many men uncomfortable. As for my own film, since it hasn’t been shown in
China yet, many thought it was just a love story—a “natural” conclusion
since I’m a woman.

Q. You've produced several critically acclaimed Chinese independent films,
including Diao Yinan's two films, Night Train and Black Coal Thin Ice. How
did that experience help with the production of Trap Street?

A. In all my producing work, I have been very much involved in the
creative process, especially with the two works you mentioned. In the
process I was able to observe other directors’ strengths and weaknesses
and learn from their mistakes. Also I’ve learned how to work under
constraints in low-budget films so I can make conscious choices to protect
my vision.

Q. Could you describe a little what it’s like being a producer of
independent film in China? Where does all the money come from, and how do
you make the film sustainable if it is not going shown in the place where
it is produced?

A. Indie productions have their money coming from almost exclusively
private sources. Ten years ago foreign funds were an important source, but
many of them have been stopped over the last few years. This is why the
majority of indie films today are microbudget films. They travel through
the festival circuit and perhaps make some sales internationally. The
Internet is another possibility but this is rather recent.

Q. Jia Zhangke has talked about the lack of an independent film industry
or structure in China. Do you feel the same way?

A. Yes, absolutely. In addition to lacking the proper outlet for indie
films—there is only one art-house theater in Beijing and it only shows
Film Bureau–approved films—independent film festivals are not encouraged
either. So showing indie films has almost become a private affair. The
difficulties in financing these films have made many directors move into
the commercial area, willingly or unwillingly.

Q. Which role do you prefer? Filmmaker or producer?

A. Certainly filmmaker. The filmmaker makes demands. The producer
satisfies those demands. That’s why my hat’s off to indie producers: they
really make the impossible happen.