Up The Yangtze

What an extraordinary film! If I had to summarise this film’s concerns into two words they would be: economic reality. This film follows the exploits of a cruise ship on China’s Yangtze River, as the river is being transformed by the biggest hydroelectric dam in history. We see the impact of these developments on three basic levels.

• Through the eyes of Yu Shui (Cindy), an intelligent young woman wanting to further her education despite her poor family’s inability to finance this;
• Through the eyes of Chen Bo Yu (Jerry), a confident middle class young man eager to make more money. Yu Shui and Chen Bo Yu exist in such stark contrast. While Yu Shui’s family huddles up in a small shack that is literally falling apart (and is ultimately washed away), Chen Bo Yu spends his time shopping, dancing and frequenting karaoke venues. Chen Bo Yu is a willing participant in this endeavour, whereas Yu Shui is obviously resentful at becoming financially responsible for her family.
• Finally, we get to see it through the eyes of privilege in the form of the ship’s foreign tourists.

It becomes uncomfortably apparent that China, as a nation, doesn’t know what it is. Socialism and Capitalism rub shoulders awkwardly. Chinese flags stand as stately reminders of a Socialist history beside large advertisements for Lancome cosmetics. A level of financial affluence is revered, and yet anyone who is too confident, too experienced, is ultimately treated as a social leper.

It seems also that while China doesn’t know what it is, many of its people are happy enough to produce facades. One of the ship’s tour guides talks about how ‘all’ the Chinese people are very happy. All the ship’s Chinese employees are given English names for the benefit and convenience of their customers. At one point someone drinking at the bar asks Chen Bo Yo what his name is. “Um… Jerry,” he replies. It is the most surreal thing. You can see his mind ticking over as he attempts to answer the question. We tend to think something as fundamental to a person’s identity as their name would flow effortlessly from their tongue. But of course this is not his name. This is an invention. In the same way that China feigns for a sense of identity so does many of its people.

Those most adversely affected by the developments, the poor villagers whose homes are being flooded, exist as the most meek and apologetic. Yu Shui’s father, being an uneducated farmer, feels he is unqualified to comment on such matters. He maintains that the development is good for China and that he lives in prosperous times, but cannot quite resolve how it is good for him individually. Yu Shui, an intelligent and feisty young woman, is slowly being coached to be subservient by everyone she encounters. Her own parents on meeting one of the ship’s staff members immediately apologise on behalf on their daughter, and shy away from invitations to take a closer look at the vessel itself.

It is difficult to watch the struggles of Yu Shui and Chen Bo Yo (which, while very different, are both very real) and not feel disgusted by some of the actions of the tourists aboard the vessel. They seem happy to look into the homes of locals and see them as mere buildings. They seem to see the Chinese people not as human beings but as purchased servants. They trivialise attempts to learn a foreign language and relate to the tourists, and dismiss them as being ‘very funny.’ Only the most kitsch gawdy elements of Chinese culture appear to have any interest to these people. This is surely the most inauthentic form of tourism imaginable.

It is my hope that anyone who should encounter this film reflect on their own economic reality. Perhaps we might not bemoan fluctuations in petrol (gas) prices with a broader consideration of what poverty really is and actually means.

Tagged as: Yung Chang