I remember reading a few articles on the obscure nature of life in China, particularly its dated, ancient locations in which many live in decay and poverty. Not the glamorous high-tech neon metropolis you've seen in locations such as Beijing or Shanghai, but instead much smaller, isolated cities in which the buildings are crumbling, streets are rigid, and work consisting of factory jobs most likely dangerous and searching for rare earths in the nearby mountains.
Such articles detailed a mentality in China, perhaps stemming from the country's communist nature: if there is a problem, it is not my job to fix it. A concept that speaks of self-sabotage and backward thinking, in which even issues that affect your own living standards appear to be the job of another to fix; maintaining buildings of an era long gone, or even the one you live in. Perhaps even the concept of helping another person: it's not my problem, so why should I have any responsibility?
This issue sweeping across the country of China to which the society appears to be hopeless, selfish, and fueled entirely by greed. While this doesn't sound too different to life outside of China, the communist way of thinking led to more drastic measures.
I've seen my fair share of Chinese arthouse films to notice a rather frequent pattern within their characters and narratives: money is everything. Their films speak of the povery whether intentional or not. Where locations are decayed and people live in cold buildings in which the walls are stripped of their colour. Even here, we see references to cash. Somebody somewhere owes cash. Somebody somewhere needs cash. Somebody somewhere is giving financial advice on how to make more cash. Money and greed are frequent in such films.
Old Stone
Johnny Ma's 'Old Stone' is the first film that I've seen in which this matter has been really addressed; whereas usually in the films I have seen, money is nothing more than mentioned, a piece of dialogue. The films display their usual shocking living conditions but as if they were nothing out of the ordinary. Old Stone, however, finally takes a stab at the greed and the soulless, cold and unempathetic nature of the society that has been formed and sadly, strangely, accepted. "How did this happen?" is a question you won't find here in Old Stone, that's not of interest. "Why is this happening?" also fails to be questioned. For Johnny Ma, Old Stone is a film that details the fact that is simply is happening. The harsh reality and lack of empathy found within its narrative only amplifies the shock as events unfold. Old Stone isn't meant to be thrilling, nor is it a horror, but it's highly psychological.
Our main protagonist, Lao Shi, is a simple father, husband, and taxi driver. There's nothing special about his character, he's the type of person you wouldn't even notice as you walked through the streets. He could be you.
During work, a drunken passenger grabs his steering wheel resulting in the car hitting another person. Lao Shi, being a person of logic and empathy, decides he can't just leave the person on the floor or wait for police and paramedics to arrive, but must take the person directly to hospital before it's too late. Bystanders, however, are saying the opposite: "Don't touch him." The result is that this citizen has been saved, but the hospital are now demanding that Lao Shi pay for the person's bills during treatment, while he is in a coma. Already, we are seeing a rather backward society in which something isn't quite right regarding the quality of a person's life and right to live. Lao Shi, however, obliges.
Here we see our first twisted desire for money: if the person is to receive treatment, someone has to pay. And insurance companies refuse to pay a cent due to annoying bureaucratic rules.
What is the cost of justice? Who should pay?
Lao Shi spends his time attempting to find more information about this injured citizen, trying to find the passenger actually responsible just so that they could make a statement so that the insurance company finally has some evidence and could take matters into their own hands. The cruel reality being that nobody is interested in helping. It's not their problem, they want nothing to do with it. Lao Shi's own family starting to disown him due to the refusal to pay anymore money, taking money from the family account and keeping it secret until Lao Shi finds out for himself. This alone, while being rather early into the film, already has you feeling quite uneasy. Would your own family consider abandoning you over money? Would they remove the money you do have to stop you from simply doing what is right to save another person's life?
Throughout the film, the ultimate cost for help is forever evident. People aren't driven by justice or simply doing the right thing for those they care for, instead, we see a society that casts a person aside in an instant the moment they need support. Where the pursuit of justice can cost you everything you have in life, beyond that of which is financial.
Johnny Ma's directing amplifies this feeling of being cast aside; forgotten about. Where the only time someone wishes to help you is if you're capable of giving a strong enough argument in which you state how it may benefit them. And even then, it's mostly surrounded by the mere concept of receiving cash. For the viewer, we're simply following behind, tracing the steps of his desperate feet as they scramble for someone to follow him in his pursuit of justice. Though, in a society that refuses to accept any responsibility, nobody comes.
The tragedy in the pursuit to do the right thing
Isolation fuels Old Stone. It manifests itself quick and hides in the assumption that people nearby means company; which it certainly isn't. What good are those around you if they're judging you? Ready to cast you aside due to your financial struggles. For Lao Shi, being beaten down enough times has taken its toll. His desperation kicks in. He's had enough and seeks answers by any means necessary, to the point in which he slowly becomes one of the many he's grown to hate.
After all, Lao Shi isn't a hero, he's simply a victim of the society he's otherwise ignored like many others all this time. This is made even more evident when another accident takes place across the street from him, where he watches as a group of people stand around a person that has collapsed. From his vehicle he watches as each person says to simply leave them alone, and slowly steps away to leave the person on the floor, having never called anyone or attempted to get help.
This bystander effect is harrowing. The reality in which it could be you or a person you care for in that situation, where people have no interest in helping another, they are fully prepared to move on and let that person die. There's no humanity displayed in their reactions, they're portrayed as robotic, and Old Stone perfectly captures the frustration of such an evil. Are we really this empty? Are we really this pathetic and greedy, to the point in which a person in need is left to die in the street over the fear that we may have to carry the burden of their finances?
After enough thought, Lao Shi no longer seeks justice for the injured, but for himself. He is now the victim, and he wants answers and justice for his own troubles. His selfless act has now turned into one focused on the self. It's no matter an issue of saving another person's life, but getting justice for the hardships he's faced as a result. There's no reward, no thank you, nothing but being kicked down into the dirt.
The beauty of Old Stone and the sadness it displays
Old Stone is one of the most beautiful films I've seen in recent years. Its ability to portray so many emotions through its directing and cinematography is staggering, and it holds your attention throughout. I found myself captivated by the composition of the camera and its grainy, very gritty 35mm film style, which I believe strongly amplifies the cold and decayed environments, and lonely emotions Lao Shi faces. The use of 35mm film allows for the darker tones to roll off into shadows, where the environment is far more gloomy and almost provides a sense of anger. Which, coincidentally is matched with cinematography of a brewing storm that splits different scenes up as the film progresses.
With the use of a lot of handheld cinematography and open, empty environments, the film progresses the feeling of loneliness in society through many uniques ways; going as far as placing our protagonist into a crowd of people exercising in the city, as he drunkenly stumbles through them and joins in, we see his desperation to fit in and be accepted again, though people just ignore him. This by far is one of my favourite scenes in the film, where the music aligns perfectly: an orchestrated piece that reminds us of the tragedy, the lack of humanity, and the sheer despair all at once. We're given the perspective of someone again following him, but also his perspective during this moment, and it's an incredibly strong scene as a result.
The directing and cinematography alongside the orchestrated pieces of music are what truly perfect this film. It carries you throughout so many different emotions while having you in awe over the beauty of how it's done. You feel the shock of what you're witnessing, but also the lack of hope from being incapable of doing anything about it. It tests your humanity while also showing you of the sad reality of what happens when you act with it. How life and society in this place is unforgiving.
