Ming Lian about ONLY TIME FOR LOVING: “The goose went on hunger strike”
A bus arrives in a small Chinese mountain village to drop off a fragile-looking young woman, the new teacher for the tiny village school. When one year later the bus returns, the lives of all her six pupils have drastically changed. During one school year, she first ruins and then restores the bond of trust with her pupils in this splendid rural area, where you can take your students out to recite poetry under the ginkgo trees.
Film screening during the 61st ZLÍN FILM FESTIVAL:
MON | 13.09 | 09:40 | GOLDEN APPLE CINEMA, projection hall 4
Details of the projection can be found here.
The location where the story takes place looks like paradise.
Ming Lian: We shot in a remote village in the mountainous Guangdong Province in Southern China, where nature is beautiful, dress codes are simple, and living standards are poor. Far away from the city, here you’ll find banyan trees, ginkgo trees, vast fields, and old farmhouses.
Those were the locations you needed?
Lian: I searched for a school, not built with only concrete and tiles, but containing all the architectural and historical characteristics of traditional culture. Together with my crew I spent half a month travelling without finding the perfect place. I was getting desperate when suddenly, hidden behind courtyard doors, we found this private school with more than 200 years of history. Centuries ago, new generations of the Chinese feudal society were educated here. Being located far away from the set, we needed to drive back and forth all the time, but still it was worth it! Another important location is the ginkgo forest. Such a beautiful place… until I found out it was now classified as a national heritage site, with fences all over the place and tourists queueing endlessly, making filming impossible. We decided to go for the few ginkgo trees at the entrance of the village, which made the scenes of the kids improvising poetry look richer and more authentic. Later, when people asked me where I found that ginkgo forest, I had to honestly confess that through switching between different angles I created a visual illusion, making a few ginkgo trees look like a whole forest.
The sun shines, you can almost smell the grass on the screen…
Lian: I’m playing a game with nature’s colours. September marks the start of the Chinese school year. We shot in November, when you can still spot traces of summer in Southern China. Shot over approximately one month, the film shows a span of four seasons, from green to yellow, from blossoming to withering, alongside the emotional rise and fall of the characters. When the teacher arrives, autumn colours are unsaturated and cold; a turbulent, uncertain future is awaiting her. By the end of autumn, colours gradually become more saturated, as her relationship with the kids grows more harmonious. But when the bus finally takes her away (forming a loop with the opening scene), blowing up the fallen leaves, colours turn sombre again, reflecting a sad farewell. I use the language of colours to tell stories; I once published a book called FILM CHROMATOLOGY.
Children growing up in the countryside miss out on many things, but is there also a positive side to that kind of life?
Lian: Since the beginnings of urbanization, the lives of Chinese children in rural areas have not been very different from those in the cities. However, there is still a big gap with some under-developed areas, like this mountainous region in the middle of nowhere. In the cities, parents often make their children attend extra-curricular activities; music classes, language courses, painting, dancing, sports – things that might open opportunities for the future. Ninety percent of children in remote areas are so-called “left-behind kids”, mostly raised by their grandparents. Many of them, especially girls, might drop out of school. On the other hand, those kids tend to be free spirited, have less stress and live closer to nature, which helps them become self-confident and independent. Parents always want a better life for their children, but the price they have to pay depends upon regional differences and expectations.
How important are teachers in Chinese society?
Lian: After 5,000 years of civilization, we value education very much. In China, teachers are highly respected. They play an important role in the lives of children, not only passing on knowledge, but also offering understanding and companionship. Besides being a movie director, I am professor at the Communication University of China. I know about the impact a teacher can have; offering students love and encouragement might affect their lives forever.
The teacher in the film gets an important piece of advice: first you have to find your way into the hearts of the children.
Lian: The Chinese government fights poverty through education. A special policy attracts young talents to these remote places where there is a lack of educational staff. Everyone working one year as a primary school teacher in one of these poor regions can then enrol in graduate school for free. The teacher in my story doesn’t have the prior ambition to be a good teacher; what she wants most is to get qualifications for her Master’s degree, like many teachers before her. That is why the children, smart and sensitive as they are, resist her at first.
Tying a toad to a board sweeper… is that the kind of jokes you remember from your school days?
Lian: Believe it or not, I was a well-behaved student, never playing pranks on my teacher, but the scene with the toad was indeed my idea. Naughty is the nature of children!
That boy knows how to dance!
Lian: This clever young actor was good at street dancing, playing hockey, singing... I invited professionals on the set to help the kids synchronize their movements in a simple choreography. But for the shooting, they just danced to the music. When setting too many rules and conditions for children, you won’t capture their vivid, authentic behaviour on camera.
Geese are known to be extremely noisy, cheeky animals. What was it like working with them?
Lian: Every filmmaker knows: you should under all circumstances avoid working with children and animals. The goose wasn’t docile at all. When recording the classroom scene for the first time, the goose never did what it was supposed to do. It was not the goose chasing the kids, but the other way around. We bought two white geese with opposite personalities; one liked to be among people, the other one totally despised all humans. She even went on hunger strike! But by the time the shooting was over, our big goose had become friends with everyone. It was exactly like what you see on the screen: the bird following the little boy wherever he goes. Afterwards, those geese were adopted by one of the crew members.
Is there something you want to share with the young audience at the Zlin festival?
Lian: The thought that many children will come to see the film makes me happy knowing they will all share the same universal human emotions. It is my true wish, as a filmmaker and professor, to see all children grow up to be happy, caring persons, and useful members of the society they belong to.