‘Wukan – The Flames of Democracy’ by husband-and-wife
filmmaking duo Lynn Lee and James Leong, did not get screened at the recent
Chinese Film Festival in Singapore because MDA had not given it a rating nor
made a decision on whether to pass it for screening or not. The authorities
should see good reason in screening it in Singapore. Don’t be fooled by the
film’s title. This film actually takes an ironic look at democracy in a village
in China and gives no one the last laugh at political change.
Wukan, defies historical records among village uprisings in
China in being a village that succeeded in overthrowing party officials and
establishing a democratic electoral process and local governing committee.
Apparently, there have been many village uprisings, mostly against corrupt
government officials but this Wukan example was a beacon of hope for people
power. Like in their previous documentaries, Lynn and James planted themselves
deep into the core of the matter and capture, at close-range, the teething
struggles of the newly-elected committee to deliver on their promises and
mission.
The documentary begins with revolutionary fervour, flashing
footages of the angsty uprising, the hope-laden the electoral process, and the
newly-elected team, all excited to turn a new page in the history of this
village. The euphora soon subsides and the committee, made up of many novices,
except for the chief, Lin Zhuluan (picture below, left), who is a retired Communist party cadre,
begins to face the mess they inherited from the overthrown corrupt officials. Among a multitude of problems like water
supply, amenities, returning land to the villagers was unanimously the mother
of all issues. But one gets a stinking feeling that it was a long arduous
journey stricken with thorns and red tape to reclaim the land.
Through a worm’s eye view of how the committee works, we
stay at close lengths to the daily trials and tribulations of the working
committee, and in particular, Zhang Jian Cheng, one of the committee members
who is the central voice of the documentary. It is through him, we uncover the
unembellished workings of one of the world’s smallest democracies. One scene in
particular, epitomizes the film’s attempt to create a specimen out of Wukan’s
democratization – two young girls were asked to use the loudhailer to rally the
villagers for a screening of a film to commemorate the late revolutionary Xue
Jinbo whose death prompted the Wukan uprising. Novices at using the loudhailer,
they fumble in front of the camera, mirroring the raw, honest approach the
filmmakers take towards their subjects in the entire documentary.
Almost like a fictional narrative, trouble brews not long
after the committee has settled into the rhythm of things. Through an audio
detection device, they learn about a clandestine attempt by a pro-Communist
party group to undermine them. We also bear witness to the growing
discontentment of the villagers who are complaining about being unable to get
back their land. What is interesting on hindsight is the balancing act the
filmmakers play between being an unbiased ‘recorder’ of the events that took
place and a storyteller, slipping the events into some kind of a cause-effect,
chain-of-events narrative arc. While the documentary is as in-your-face-raw as
almost physically being next to its subjects, it is also deliberate in its
structure and narrative build up and its sometimes, over-use of music to guide
the mood and tempo of the film. However, one cannot imagine how they could hv
been deliberate and scripted in their shooting process when nobody had a clue
on how the supposed ‘democracy’ was going to work and trouble was going to
unfold. But therein lies the art of ‘selection’ – selecting who relates, what
to probe them on and capturing the best sound bites and moments within the confines
of ‘real-time trouble’, something which the filmmakers Lynn and James seem to
have full control of.
With the rising discontentment against the newly and
democratically-elected committee, the documentary begins to unfold like one of
those moral-laden fables. It is as if it is trying to tell you there is no there
is no utopia and for every new step forward, something has to give. The movie
has yet to be screened in Singapore and it is certainly interesting to see the
position the censors take on this film. Will they appreciate the film’s
double-edged message on democracy or will they get into a hypochondriac state
about social order and fear that the spirit of uprising may taint the minds of
Singaporeans here?
In an almost too circular fashion, the film which starts with
only a glimpse of the Wukan uprising goes back to where it came from, another
uprising. The villagers decide to blockade a portion of a road joined to land
plots that rightfully belong to them, but the village committee is facing
challenges in retrieving the land. With one or two leading voices igniting the
‘revolutionary fervour’ of the rest, they take to the streets chanting slogans
all over again. Suddenly, the Singaporean viewer in me cannot help but feel
like this was a flesh and blood version of ‘The Real Singapore’, inciting
reflections about Singapore’s current online pandemonium about bread and butter
issues.
At this point, staying glued to the documentary was like
waiting for the last word on democracy, which I suspect was what the filmmakers
did not want to offer, to avoid an absolutist view on such an issue. Even
though throughout the film, there were deliberate build-ups, narrative steering
from the way the scenes were edited and music that coerced you into a certain
direction of thought. In the end somehow, the natural course of things paved an
obvious ending point for the film. As the uprising gets louder and things get
out of hand, the head of the committee shouts across to the cameraman to stop
shooting. The simple reflex puts a full stop to a cycle of discontent and more
importantly re-orientates the viewer, reminding that in this outbreak of
trouble, we are so near yet so far.
So I think…..MDA is not going to cut it up too much.
Review by Jeremy Sing
Review by Jeremy Sing