Returning to the past via old camera footage or photographs gives you an array of emotions. Depending on the memory attached, sadness, happiness, nostalgia, all of these emotions cross your mind when you look back at those images and videos. These are snapshots of a time long gone. Decades of experiences are all compiled into a folder on your electronic device or a small box in your house. Many directors use this reminiscence in films more abstractly to explore a moment in their lives. At the same time, others are more obvious with it by placing photographs and clips within the project’s narrative. Either way, by including that in their features, their work becomes more personal. 

Jia Zhangke Explores Through His Filmic Archive

These projects reflect their identity and contemplations on culture, society, politics, or the people who shape their place of birth (or the country they reside in). For his latest project, Jia Zhangke’s new film, “Caught by the Tides”, experiments with the Chinese filmmaker’s mostly narratively static, yet always impressive, oeuvre. You feel a certain “deja vu” in the story, but thematically, they differ. It is almost like Aki Kaurismäki with his chain-smoking or alcoholic characters and deadpan comedy, which are stuck in a setting that seems to intertwine each film, yet they all have different narrative wavelengths. In this case, Zhangke uses old footage he has shot from the past two decades to forge “Caught by the Tides.”

By exploring his archive and scrolling through old material, both old yet unused and new yet unseen, Zhangke revisits his memories, most of which are with his wife and the lead of his films, Zhao Tao, and contemplates how everything around him has changed. The industrial landscape within the millennial world and its changes. The existential crisis of the Covid lockdown. Everything changes, shifting slowly as we go from one period to another. Reminiscence ties in with Zhangke’s usual dependence on lingering sadness to orchestrate a narrative similar to his previous film “Ash is Purest White”. A woman falls in love with a suspicious man throughout two decades. You see some minute differences that shape “Caught by the Tides” into new territory for Zhangke and Tao.

The story begins in 2001, near the territory of Datong City in Northern China. It was the beginning of the 21st century. Everything seems like it is moving towards a bright future full of possibilities. Business is thriving. Many things are beginning to shape into fruitful projects. It all seems fitting for a fresh new start. In Datong, life does not appear prosperous, wavering into the mundanity of a blue-collar life–repetition with little breaks and few moments of relaxation. For Qiao Qiao (Zhao Tao), she is going to clubs and parties with her boyfriend, Guo Bin (Zhubin Li), who’s also a petty criminal. That is her escape from modeling the clothes from Bin’s department store and performances at locals or events. 

Leaving without Saying Goodbye

The endless nights and hard work are catching up to Bin, who plans to leave Qiao behind by working for a real estate development company that will bring them more money than before. He sees that there is no more room for economic success in Datong. So, Bin heads out to Fejic City and texts Qiao that he will send for her once everything is settled. The audience knows where he is headed, considering the time frame in which part of the film is set. But for Qiao, his whereabouts are a mystery. Her lover leaves without a trace. The poor Qiao wonders why he manages the situation so secretly without considering her. 

Caught by the Tides
Zhao Tao in “Caught by the Tides” (Photo: Film at Lincoln Center and NYFF).

It took her five years to learn where Bin had gone finally. And she takes a ship to Fejic City to track him down after all this time. When Qiao gets there, she realizes that this city has been severely affected by the construction of the Three Gorges Dam, which caused the destruction of nearby residences and was the focus of Zhangke’s 2006 film, “Still Life”. And just like that, we traverse his filmography in “Caught by the Tides”. Worlds unite as the two-decade narrative develops. Some notable clues connect “Tides” with Zhangke’s other works, such as similar costumes previously worn by Zhao Tao in the previous pictures being used or other more subtle references, such as the use of crucial locations that were part of important scenes.

It fascinates me how the Chinese filmmaker reevaluates his filmography in a new story akin to this most acclaimed. Many directors look back at their cinematic pieces via more self-referential means. But Zhangke does not want to tie the filmic not with such crudeness. Instead, he provides his scenes with uniqueness, even though some might recall the aforementioned “Still Life” and “Ash is Purest White”. This is turning not so much into a travelog akin to Miguel Gomes’ “Grand Tour” (also playing at the festival’s Main Slate). Instead, it is a composition of his storytelling and contemplations throughout his years in this draining yet beautiful medium. 

A Bond That Enriches the Creative Process

Bin does not respond to any of Qiao’s texts and calls. This rejection leaves her in even more distress. She assumes the worst that her lover is either dead or somewhere with no way to contact him. She places a missing poster in a news station bulletin to see if someone has seen him recently or knows about his whereabouts. Relatively after, Bin comes out of the shadows to tell her that their relationship has been over for some time. Melancholy brushes through each path Qiao takes, and everyone notices her inner sadness immediately. An example is when she stumbles upon a man who wants to read her fortune. 

He says that her woes won’t last long and that Qiao has a prosperous life waiting for her. Nearly without a single line of Zhao’s dialogue, she remains composed on the outside yet broken on the inside. Her performance takes on what she has done before with Zhangke. However, there are moments where she can show her tenacity and resilience to a now hindered bond with Bin. Time passes once again, accompanied by documentary footage showing significant events that took place throughout the gap. We jump ahead sixteen years, where the world is in restraint and controlled because of the pandemic. The world remains partially locked down.

Bin returns to Datong after being laid off to visit his family. But that is not the only reason he is back to where this story began two decades ago. Something in his heart tells him a flame that hasn’t been lit in years will be kindled soon. And so it happens. Fate and chance reunite the past lovers, Bin and Qiao. What will happen to them? Are the two going to return to their past status? Mostly silent, “Caught by the Tides” is reflective of China’s development throughout the 21st century, both in its successes and failures, admirations and tragedies, seen in the documentary footage and in how the fragmented scenes of Zhangke’s archive transition from film to film in a puzzling, intriguing fashion. We see places and residences fall apart, whether because of the demolitions to construct the dam or the isolation induced by the pandemic. 

Nevertheless, “Caught by the Tides” is not all about the things tearing entirely apart. A predominant sensation riddles the frames with sadness. However, there is a sense of rising from the ashes, a reconstruction to build back a connection or a relationship. There’s a weight to all this, even in the production background–the deep bond that Zhangke and Tao have. In each segment, you feel the emotional heft of the actress’ experiences in each film she has worked in with Jia. And in this feature’s closing moments, a bigger melodramatic yet touching note appears to give way to the film’s true meaning for the pair. It is a “tour de memory” for them, demonstrating their journey together in and out of the cinematic world.

 

 

 

 

“Caught by the Tides” screened in the Main Slate of this year’s New York Film Festival. Follow us for more coverage. 

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Hector Gonzalez is a Puerto Rican, Tomatometer-Approved film critic and the Co-founder of the PRCA, as well as a member of OFTA and PIFC. He is currently interested in the modern reassessment of Gridnhouse cinema, the portrayal of mental health in film, and everything horror. You can follow him on Instagram @hectorhareviews and Twitter @hector__ha.

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