Wang Bing’s latest documentary may not, at 215 minutes, be one of his typically longer works, but it is probably his most vivid. He spent 6 years recording the lives of young textile workers in the city of Zhili and fashioned three films from the footage. Youth (Spring), itself the first of three movies about young Chinese workers, is reportedly the most narrative-attentive of the films that emerged from the footage, though it would be difficult to trace a continuing arc of a story. For the most part, Wang gathers together pieces of action that fit together thematically without necessarily relating to any other pieces of action. He will jump from concerted labor disputes to romantic intrigues to knock-down, drag-out fist fights, all filmed up-close and extremely personal. Though Wang’s epics can sometimes be a slog, this one rips right along thanks to the undeniable energy of the young people being studied. Though the labor is often punishing, these are not worker ants but fully expressive individuals with character and verve who dress well, love as heartily as they can, and make every attempt to enjoy themselves, even if it kills them. They occasionally enjoy their work, too, of which they are justifiably proud. 

What’s immediately notable about Youth (Spring) is Wang’s lack of authorial judgment, which means even the ironies on display—the almost insistently bleak Zhili consists of nothing but sweatshops lined up on a street called Happiness Road—are downplayed. Some observers seem to have a problem with this in that Wang isn’t being as critical about the system as he should be, especially compared to previous work like Til Madness Do Us Part (about the state’s poor treatment for the mentally ill) and Dead Souls (about the murderous anti-intellectual purges of the 60s and 70s), but here he is less interested in the political ramifications of the topic he’s filming than in how the objects of his gaze present themselves from minute to minute. Though many have lazily compared Wang to Frederic Wiseman, Youth (Spring) is the first documentary I’ve seen by him that feels as obsessed with getting to the heart of institutional behavior as Wiseman’s movies are. The little dramas that play out in real time almost have a scripted quality because of the way Wang frames them without reference to other dramas. The aforementioned fight scene between two young men competing for two things at once (a promotion and the affections of another worker) is so viscerally striking that you almost assume it had to be choreographed, as the two combatants tumble over work benches and sewing machines to get at each others’ throats. An earlier competition between two other men who want to prove which of them is the fastest stitcher in the factory has a joyous texture as they show off their skills with theatrical flair. And when one employee discovers she’s pregnant, the discussions with managers and parents become pure soap opera, except, of course, that you assume she’ll have the abortion her boss so casually suggests.

The only theme that recurs is the demand for more pay and the lack of any real collective power on the part of labor, and in that regard the movie loses some of its own power by not tying the various tales of workers attempting to hold management to account into something cohesive. It’s more of a broken record, albeit one that gets louder with each revolution. There’s no resolution to the lives we see, and some of the more compelling individuals vanish from the movie without any explanation. What you end up with is a film that reveals with striking assurance how the men and women who know they are the future of China live their lives right now. 

In Mandarin. Now playing in Tokyo at Theater Image Forum Aoyama (03-5766-0114).

Youth (Spring) home page in Japanese

photo (c) 2023 Gladys Glover-House on Fire-CS Production-ARTE France Cinema-Les Films Fauves-Volya Films-Wang Bing