有的時候很難猜度一個導演背後的意圖。在《麥收》的Q&A有觀眾問他主角苗紅有否看過這部戲，他答還沒有時間讓她看，但影片今年三月至今已去過多個影展，很難相信幾個月來也找不到時間。我也問過徐童在剪接時有否讓她看，他回答說覺得後期工作是導演的責任，被拍者的工作拍攝完便結束。這回答有點傲漫，畢竟通過剪接、音樂、旁白、字幕等後期效果，可以大大影響觀眾對被拍者的印像，一個人同意被拍攝是否等於他把所有話事權全歸於你？陰謀論的想法是他不想給苗紅機會打退堂鼓。
The film director Jia Zhangke, whom I profiled earlier this year in the magazine, has pulled out of the Melbourne International Film Festival to avoid appearing beside Rebiya Kadeer, the exiled Uighur leader whom the Chinese government has accused of instigating the recent riots in Xinjiang. (Kadeer is the subject of a documentary, “10 Conditions of Love,” which will also be shown at the festival.) Jia and his production company, Xstream productions, released a statement in Chinese this week, portions of which I’ve translated: We have no interest in meddling with the festival’s freedom of artistic exchange. Withdrawing from Melbourne is, rather, a kind of self-restraint. Xinjiang history is not something I’m well acquainted with, but the recent Urumqi violent incident was only two weeks ago, and I, at a minimum, should take a cautious approach. I don’t want to do anything that would tarnish those who died.
The decision to withdraw has startled fans overseas, some of whom tend to view Jia as a political rebel. But that portrait has always struck me as an oversimplification that fails to capture the nuances of his position in China. He is, emphatically, not a dissident director. He made an explicit choice years ago to submit his films to censorship in order to gain a broader audience. As he has told me, “Marginalization can be a kind of pleasant stance—I really admire many of those people—but I would rather expend enormous energy trying to dance with the many levels of the era in which we live.” Given the mood in China these days and the intensity of the official campaign against Kadeer, there is little question in my mind that if Jia had appeared at the festival with Kadeer he would have run into political problems at home. It’s not impossible to imagine that his films might have encountered distribution problems or his funding sources would have come under more serious scrutiny. (See the experience of the Gongmeng law firm.) Whether his foreign fans like it or not, Jia has decided that he would rather work within the system, and with his budgets reaching into the millions of dollars these days, it is understandable that he is more cautious than he once was about whether his films have a commercial future.
None of this is likely to assuage critics abroad who will interpret this as arguably China’s greatest living director bending to the autocratic demands of the government. But reading his comments today, I am reminded that the interpretation of the violence in Xinjiang looks very different to Chinese observers—even ones we think of as liberals—than it does to foreigners. As he has throughout his career, Jia has read the political winds and arrived at a tough, polarizing decision.
Tough decision? Dude, it's a no brainer.
If you want to get ahead, bow down to the master. What's so tough about that?
