Following up his well-received 2021 feature A New Old Play, Sichuan-reared Chinese writer-director Qiu Jiongjiong continues to deploy heightened artifice and quasi-theatrical mannerisms (painted stage sets, rippling cloths representing water, actors in wacky costumes playing astral bodies or dogs, and so on) with his eccentric but addictive latest, Fuxi: Four Tales of Feasting.
Although Fuxi runs a trim 135 minutes compared to New Old Play’s three-hour run time, Qiu still manages to cover more than 2,000 years of myth, history and mythic history with a quartet of stories that revolve around special meals and banquets. (The word “fuxi,” intertitles helpfully explain, can either be a noun meaning delicious food or a verb signifying the savoring of such delicacies.)
Fuxi: Four Tales of Feasting
The Bottom LineSpicy and addictive, if not easily digestible.
Venue: Tokyo Film Festival (Competition)
Cast: Lee Kang Sheng, Lee Hong-Chi, Annie Chen, Fan Guang Yao, Wang Talu, Wang Yitong, Xue Xuchun, Wang Hai, Zhou Jiarui
Director/screenwriter: Qiu Jiongjiong
2 hours 15 minutes
The different segments, each one offering varying mixtures
The different segments, each one offering varying mixtures of slapstick comedy and memento mori solemnity, don’t have much to do with one another story-wise. So Qiu pulls it all together with a framing device about a film crew making each segment, the tales linked by the presence of the sun or Sol (Wen Ke) and Luna aka the moon (Xiao Luxi’); both actors rock massive sun- and moon-shaped headpieces.
Yes, the whole thing is just as bizarre as it sounds, but Qiu’s relentless visual brio keeps the soufflé aloft while the serious intent adds a complex, umami aftertaste with a hint of the tingly, numbing flavor so distinctive in Sichuan cuisine.
Indeed, much of the dialogue here is reportedly in the Sichuan dialect, a nuance that native speakers are likely to appreciate more than the international viewers, who may have caught this at the Tokyo Film Festival, where it premiered in competition. Nevertheless, the performances and the English-language subtitles succeed in getting across the mix of high and low cultures on display here, as each chapter throws together peasants and aristocrats, ordinary folk and fantastic beings, actors and filmmakers in a giddy muddle. The effect is a little reminiscent of commedia dell’arte with all that breaking-of-the-fourth-wall stuff, especially since the mise en scene here is so archly theatrical.
The first minutes kick off with a bit
The first minutes kick off with a bit of slightly baffling comic business featuring Sol and Luna interacting with the film crew making the movie we’re presumably watching — although the names of the people playing the roles of “prop master” and “costume designer” and so forth don’t match the names of the real people who actually performed those roles for Fuxilisted in the end credits. Anyway, we soon settle into the first chapter, which takes place “long ago,” when our ancestors, simian-sort of hominids, lived in the forest and had long tails which they believed were “sacred fuxi to be offered at life’s most solemn moments.” And by offered we mean eaten, as is the case with the tail of one aged granny played by veteran Taiwanese actor Lee Kang-Sheng, a frequent collaborator with auteur Tsai Ming-liang.
As granny lays dying, her tail is cut off, butchered into chunks like oxtail, stewed and served up to the community, a dish that looks pretty tasty if you don’t mind the self cannibalism. Next comes the second chapter, set in a period of early agrarianism, wherein King Wang, Sichuan’s fourth king, has abdicated the throne and turned into a cuckoo but still flies home to enjoy some tasty fuxi prepared for him annually. Something gets lost in translation here, but the visuals are still rather splendid and props are due to Fan Guang Yao in the role of Wang for the solemnity he manages to muster while wearing giant fake wings and a massive wig of white hair.
Ultimately, the third and fourth chapters have the most heft dramatically, making the earlier proceedings feel like pleasant forgettable amuses bouche. The third chapter, set in China’s medieval period, features a quartet of fantastical creatures gathering to remember the life of poet and gastronome Su Dongpo (Lee Hong-Chi), a man of many talents but whose honesty frequently got him into trouble with the powers that be, resulting in several periods of exile. Su’s book boy (Wang Yitong) prepares dishes invented or closely associated with his master for a dinner party consisting of a Harvester (Xue Xuchun) who ferries souls to the underworld, water spirit Yaksha (Wang Hai), an older woman called Granny Spring Dream (Zha Xinji), and a fox in human form (Wang Talu). All enjoy the feast as scenes from Su Dongpo’s life are performed.
The final tale revolves around servant boy Zhang
The final tale revolves around servant boy Zhang Sanxing (Zhou Jiarui), who is living in the early 20th century and witnessing the fall of the Qing dynasty, the last to reign before the ascent of Communism. Once again, Harvester, Yaksha and Fox nosh on fuxi with young Zheng, who is transitioning to the land of the dead, the whole spectacle overseen once again by Sol and Luna before a final pullback to reveal the cast and crew celebrating with food and drink at the wrap party.
While it all may not make a huge amount of sense on a first viewing, there is an undoubtable sensual pleasure to be had from Qiu’s painterly sets, the goofy costumes, and the food styling itself. Viewers are advised to watch with an open mind and a full stomach.
