Written By Jeremy Lim
This article may contain spoilers.
In this heartbreaking and extremely intimate look at his family, Deng Wei, in his directorial debut, crafts a story that brings us right into the Deng household in China. The more we are exposed to this family, the more we learn and start to care for people that we would otherwise have no connection to.
“Father” follows the director’s father Donggu, a real-estate man, and his grandfather Zuogui, a fortune-teller in the advanced stages of his life, as they try to coexist in modern day China. The film begins with his grandfather reciting verses from Yuanhai Ziping, a book about the Four Pillars of Destiny, a popular astrological concept in China. This simple introduction to one of the two main subjects of the film is tender, extremely intimate and a wonderful table-setter for the rest of the documentary.
In this scene, we see Zuogui in his element, reciting fortune-telling verses he has known for decades, but there’s also a hint of vulnerability and complete openness. We see the grandfather in great physical detail. We see the wrinkles on his face, the emotion that comes with him trying to remember these verses; we even see the shape of his skull because of how skinny he is. In an interview with Wei, he said of his filming style, “My instinct told me to do the close-ups, for I had to present them extremely close. Even in post-production, when I watched all [the] footage over and over, these close-ups still had a huge impact on my heart. These shots give me a new connection to my family.” The viewer gets an incredibly close look at who this man is and what he’s been through, but the irony of it all is that he himself doesn’t have that luxury. The director’s grandfather is not only a fortune-teller but blind.
This sense of closeness and intimacy contrasted with an automatic sense of distance is where so much of this film’s beauty and devastation comes from. Documentarians and filmmakers in general are dedicated people and that means, no matter what, the camera has to keep rolling while never crossing the line of objective observer. When asked about the filming process, Deng Wei told me how difficult it was to film something so close to home. “I am a participant in their life and at the same time an objective observer, so there were indeed difficult moments for me.” One moment in particular that Wei highlighted was a scene when his grandfather touched hot coal. “The grandson part of me wanted so much to go and help him, but I had to choose to keep my hands steady at the camera. Though I don’t know whether grandpa ever blamed me for that in his mind.”
The fascinating dilemma that comes up with this film is the voyeuristic nature inherent in filming someone without the ability to see. Wei said that there would be times when he was filming and his grandfather had no idea. One scene in particular that stands out above the rest is when his grandfather is lying in bed, shouting the name of his deceased wife. These are moments of total vulnerability. These are moments that almost feel wrong when captured on film, but the viewer still sits down and watches as a man bears his soul, thinking nobody else is around.
“Mentally prepared though I was, the voice of grandpa’s shouting still shocked me deeply. He was so deep in his memories he possibly did not fall asleep that night,” Wei said. However, this exposure, the feeling of being emotionally naked for everybody else to see, wasn’t just a burden for the subjects, it also weighed heavily in Wei’s mind. “As a director, sometimes I had to reopen old scars in their hearts and talk about things they don’t want to talk about or face directly. I had to touch the softest spot of their mind, and that always made me feel cruel and cold about myself.”
As the film moves along and more and more layers are peeled away from the main subjects, we see that Wei’s grandfather is a fascinating person with scattered yet poignant thoughts about life and death. That being said, the scenes with him and the director’s father really stand out in a documentary filled with memorable moments.
The two are constantly at odds, with the grandfather foretelling on multiple occasions that if Wei’s father doesn’t stop his work putting up buildings, he will die in the near future. These predictions are ominous to the viewer but, to Wei’s father, it almost seems bothersome, like an annoying roadblock rather than a frightening one.The two men work well as foils for each other, as Wei portrays his family through struggle and powerlessness.
Wei’s grandfather struggles with what it means to be a fortune-teller and how some of his morose predictions linger in his mind while also dealing with how tough life has become. Wei’s father struggles to make a living, to pay back debt that he owes, to live in a country that, at every turn, is trying to shut his business down. These two men are at completely different points in their lives, but fate and family keep them together, whether they like it or not.
At times, “Father,” feels like you’ve stumbled upon somebody else’s home movie. It’s personal, it’s intimate and, at points, it feels wrong to even be watching it. But that’s where the film’s appeal comes from, a look into the lives of people in their most exposed state, when they aren’t putting on an act or trying to impress anybody. For us, we see the harsh reality and consequences of living in the modern world, but they see it’s just any old day. Nevertheless, this emotional documentary on family and fate is begging to be seen.
Deng Wei is currently working on two feature films: “Growing Up in Mi’er” and “The Rainbow.”
“Father” makes its U.S. premiere at the 44th Asian American International Film Festival. Ticket and screening information can be found here.