THE FILM THAT CHINESE AUDIENCES ALMOST LOVE
the strange case of Big Fish Begonia
By Huiwei Feng
A growing fish |
Big Fish Begonia is an epic Chinese animation film directed by Liang Xuan and Zhang Chun (2016). The story is inspired by Chinese Taoist philosopher Zhuangzi. Xuan studied at Tsinghua University as a thermal energy major and had a dream about a small fish who went to the sea and kept growing. He loved his dream and told his classmate Zhang Chun about it. The two decided to make a short-animated film, which not only won a lot of awards, but also got the highest number of clicks on the Internet at the time. With this encouragement, they decided to make Big Fish Begonia into a full-length film.
In order to do this, Xuan dropped out of Tsinghua University, much to his parent’s dismay. In 2005, he set up a full-time animation company, and began to raise money for the film. He decided to move the company to the suburbs and even though they didn’t have good equipment or much money, they had a lot of passion for the story of a fish that just doesn't stop growing. Finally, and after two years of struggling to get financing, they did, and then spent the next 12 years working on Big Fish Begonia before it was finished.
According to the film critic Peter Sobczynski from RogerEbert.com, “the film is a pleasurable spectacle with the basic narrative getting the attention of both young and adult audiences.” Jayson McNulty in filmdaze.net argues that the opening segments “establish an atmosphere” over the conventions of strict plot development. McNulty is right, but he misses how the expressive, fancy background paintings along with the mythological narrative are an expression of Chinese culture. For example, the vines that sprawl upwards and the tree branches that groan for life seem much like the vines and trees throughout the country. It’s the small details that Xuan and Chun get right. Kenneth Turan in the Los Angeles Times says the film echoes the “visual magic of Hayao Miyazaki, especially ‘Spirited Away.’” Notably, Turan finds the film equal to the excellence of the Studio Ghibli films.
Like the Ghibli films, Big Fish isn’t culturally limited to its home country, but tells a story that a global audience can relate to. Chun’s journey from her mythical land to earth and back stresses the importance of human dignity and the need to fight for what is right. Her adventure begins when she becomes a red dolphin in order to spend seven days in the human world. The journey is dangerous and she finds herself trapped in a net (remember, she’s a dolphin). A young man, Kun, saves her and this begins her attempt to balance between the rules of two different worlds. It is quite a rite of passage and she’s already in trouble for breaking the command that she shouldn’t have any contact with human beings. But warmed by Kun saving her life, Chun in turn tries to save him and guide him through her world. And, of course, she continues to disobey her instructions.
The film amassed around $90 million in China alone, which is an impressive gross for an independent film. And even though the characters come from the standard Chinese textbook Zhuangzi, its reception in China was somewhat mixed. Approximately 3 million viewers described the film as “terrible teen-romantic with weak characterization, illogical dialogues, and poor narrative.” Despite the film’s Taoist values and ecological consciousness, Doubon audiences rated it a fairly low 6.6. One might ask why American audiences (87% on Rotten Tomatoes) feel so much more positively about Big Fish than Chinese audiences?
Let's look at one central scene. After Chun arrives back at her house, devastated by Kun’s death, she vows to atone for her actions. She eventually finds the official in charge of the souls to find a way to save Kun. After making her case, Chun is granted custody of a fish to house the young man’s soul. Chun will care for the fish until the youngster is old enough to do it on his own. However, a few conditions are attached to this deal. To purchase the boy's soul, Chun must first make a sacrifice equal to fifty percent of her own life. The question is why should Americans find this so much easier to take than the Chinese audiences which represent its first and primary audience?
One answer is that the movie is absolutely and totally Chinese in thought and subject matter. And that turns out to be a bit of a shock for Chinese audiences; it’s as if the subject matter is so close to them that it makes them critical of it. Rather than be overwhelmed by the amazing visuals, Chinese audiences, although they went to the picture, actually paid attention to the plot. In fact, for them the plot mattered a great deal and it didn’t either quite make sense or settle right with them. Because the myths behind the movie are based on real historical stories, Chinese audiences were quick to see problems. They found the young heroine and hero immature and, even worse, irresponsible. Who is she to decide to sacrifice fifty percent of her life? The film might be based on a dream, but to many in China that dream made no sense and even rankled values of how to behave.
American audiences don’t know the stories, definitely did not have their values shaken up, and just could sit back and enjoy a tremendous visual show. For them, the story is incidental. As I mentioned before, this film made a lot of money in China. So, you can be certain that Big Fish Begonia II will be released in 2023. But despite all that, a film made specifically for Chinese audiences never fully satisfied Chinese audiences and that is as strange as a fish that keeps growing and growing and growing.
©Huiwei Feng and the CCA Arts Review
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