SPRING IN A SMALL TOWN (1948)

A.K.A.: Xiao Cheng Zhi Chun

Country: China

Genre(s): Drama

Director: Mu Fei

Cast: Wei Wei / Wei Li / Yu Shi

Plot

Following the end of World War II, the return of an old flame causes a traditional Chinese wife to consider leaving her loveless marriage.

What I Liked

 “Spring in a Small Town” packs an awful lot of personal turmoil into a 93 minute film involving just five speaking parts.  Contributing to and enhancing the love triangle plot is the sense of isolation of the characters, both from the world and also from each other, which overwhelms each scene.  The drama takes place inside the bombed-out ancestral home of Liyan, the surrounding land of which is devoid of human life outside of these five people, making the picture feel as though it is both post-apocalyptic and fairy tale – if only in atmosphere.  For there is no sci-fi action, nor fairy tale beauty in this most personal of dramas.

What we have instead is a bare-bones depiction of how war decimates physically (the ruined home), mentally (the despondent Liyan), and emotionally (the broken relationships of all involved).  The war itself has taken place off screen, having ended before the story begins.  But its effects more than linger all the way until the movie’s conclusion. The only person who seems to be spiritually untouched by the misery is Meimei, Liyan’s teenage sister, who it is assumed was too young when the war began to remember what has been lost.  Loss, despair, and regret strain the faces of the four adults, however.  This is most obvious in Liyan’s wife, Yuwen, the woman torn between her duty to her stricken husband and her longing for her long-lost sweetheart, Zhang, who is physically and romantically the very opposite of Liyan.  It is Yuwen who narrates the drama with a hushed voice choked by sorrow.

What I Didn’t Like

This movie has the kind of emotional slow burn that just crushes the soul.  However, it is all played out through gestures, glances, conversation, and narration, a study in the power of subtlety.  There is absolutely no action.  As mentioned earlier, the war is over by the time the story starts.  There is not a single fight and barely any arguments.  The closest we get to excitement is the very rare raising of a voice.  While the performances are certainly melodramatic, don’t look for the same, sappy, over-the-top romantic melodrama common in American films of the same period.  You will find no screaming, tear-filled soliloquys, or passionate embraces, just guilt-ridden eyes, and the tortured flirtations of fingertips.  For all the film’s feeling, there is sadly not one refreshing, full-fledged thrill.

Most Memorable Scene

When Yuwen visits Zhang at night in the separate guest house made up for him, the scenes flirt with an unspoken taboo of this traditional Chinese wife visiting her former lover (who happens to be her husband’s best friend) behind closed doors.  When the lights are on, Yuwen is the picture of polite cordiality, hospitable and friendly, always avoiding the eyes of the man she loves in the same way she avoids the turmoil inside her.  However, when the town electricity is shut off and she and Zhang are alone in the dark, she clearly has a harder time controlling her passion.  Forgoing lovemaking for the furtive movements of shadows and tension-filled whispers, these scenes avoid the easy route of scandal for the more touching and fascinatingly balletic battle between longing and restraint.

My Rating: 3.5 out of 5