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One of the best films of 1994,
To Live is a bold, energetic masterpiece from Zhang Yimou, the foremost director from China's influential "fifth generation" of filmmakers. Continuing his brilliant collaboration with China's best-known actress Gong Li (their previous films include
Ju Dou and
Raise the Red Lantern), Zhang weaves an ambitious tapestry of personal and political events, following the struggles of an impoverished husband and wife (Ge You, Gong Li) from their heyday in the 1940s to the hardships that accompanied the Cultural Revolution in the 1960s. They raise two children amidst a Communist regime, surviving numerous setbacks and yet managing, somehow, to live. Both intimate and epic, Zhang's film encompasses the simplest and most profound realities of Chinese life during this controversial period, and for their honesty, Zhang and Gong Li faced a two-year ban on future collaborations.
To Live is a testament to their art, transcending politics to celebrate the tenacity of ordinary people in the wake of turbulent history.
--Jeff Shannon
From The New Yorker
The epic of suffering is the fashion in new Chinese cinema, but whether the authorities will develop a taste for it is another matter. They certainly got heavy with the director Zhang Yimou after seeing this new movie; he will not be attending festivals abroad for some time. An odd reaction, really, for this is not his most provocative work-its assault on the Maoist programs of the fifties and sixties is secondary to its gentle, observant picture of a family's travails. The father (Ge You) is a gambler and-you guessed it-a puppetmaster; while he stumbles around in the war between the Communists and the Nationalists, the mother (Gong Li) is left at home raising their children. He returns, and then their troubles really begin. The ornate intensity of Zhang's earlier work has relaxed, and there are scenes here-family meals, for instance-that move with the simplicity of a Rossellini picture. But the sheer mass of narrative hurries things on. You keep waiting for Zhang, the impeccable stylist, to stop and stare. In Mandarin. -Anthony Lane
Copyright © 2006
The New Yorker