Zhou Yu’s Train (Zhōu Yú de huǒchē)
Propelled to fame playing regal beauties in grandiose historical dramas such as Raise the Red Lantern and Farewell my Concubine, Chinese actress Gong Li takes a professional U-turn in this bittersweet romance with hints of French cinema from director Zhou Sun, recasting herself as Zhou Yu, a thoroughly modern, independent woman whose sexuality is part of her personality. Torn between two lovers, the ethereal introvert and the easygoing charmer, Gong takes comfort in somnolent train journeys through the countryside of northwest China. Zhou Yu’s Train is adapted from the novel by Cun Bei.
Not to be confused with the legendary figure from the ‘Three Kingdoms’ period, Zhou Yu is a beautiful, spontaneous young lady who paints pottery for a living in Sanming, a rural artisan town in northwest China. On a trip to the industrial city of Chongyang she meets Chen Ching (Tony Leung Ka Fai), a timid librarian and aspiring poet. Zhou Yu is deeply affected by a poem he gives her, in which he compares her with a mystical lake, and a passionate romance is born. Zhou becomes an avid disciple of Chen’s writings and even tries to arrange a poetry reading and the publication of a book. Like her porcelain, their relationship is fragile; like his poems it is fraught with emotion. Twice a week she takes a two hour train ride to visit him, and it is during these journeys that she meets Zhang Qiang (Honglei Sun), a country vet who is as fascinated by Zhou Yu herself as the hand-crafted porcelain vase that she carries. As Chen Ching remains reticent, unable to fully commit both to his lover and his poetry, Zhou Yu draws ever closer to the laconic Dr Zhang, unable to rebuff his advances.
Interspersed in this fairly simple cove story are occasional shots of another woman named Xiu, who bears a remarkable resemblance to Zhou Yu (and is also played by Gong Li). Mesmerised by an anthology of Chen’s poetry dedicated to his former lover, Xiu spends the film retracing Zhou Yu’s steps.
Whilst the storyline is fairly simple, its arrangement is non-linear and fragmented, constantly jumping back and forth between the past and present. The confusing structure and the periodic appearances of the second woman undermine our assumptions to the point that we no longer know what is true and what is imagined. Could Zhou Yu’s long distance relationship be a figment of her imagination, sparked by the poem she received? When she searches for the lake it is nowhere to be seen. Or do the shots of Xiu reading Zhou Yu’s Train indicate that Zhou was in fact a figment of Chen’s imagination?
These are interesting questions to reflect on, but ultimately unsatisfying, and one feels that the story might have packed a bigger punch had it been told chronologically. Far from contributing to the film’s richness, Xiu’s role is baffling. Her character is barely developed at all and her presence becomes more of a distraction than a worthy plot element.
Where Zhou Yu’s Train really excels, however, is in small, well-observed moments: Zhou Yu’s disappointment at the lake that never was, and the richness of the railway journeys themselves - Zhou Yu seems to prefer the travelling than seeing her lover at the end of the trip.
Wang Yu’s sumptuous camerawork is spectacular, contrasting the vivid blue-green hues of rural Sanming (actually Kunming, in Yunnan province) with the dreary cityscapes of Chongyang (actually Chongqing, in Sichuan province). Intricate patterns of light and shadow dance off the screen at you, a masterpiece in themselves, and the omnipresence of trains and travelling presents a constant sense of momentum.
The love-lorn and whimsical Gong Li is fully in command of her personality, which transcends her role as a modern woman torn between two loves, and Honglei Sun is agreeably laid-back as Zhang. Tony Leung Ka Fai is given little room to manouver in his role as the aspiring poet who is happy to make love with his girlfriend twice a week, but reticent when it comes to leaving his bachelor lifestyle. Zhou Yu’s Train is a lyrical and perceptive inquiry into the bewildering quest for love, but its answers leave us unmoved.
