Gorgeously rendered in picturesque cinematography, “Always” offers a meditative and patient look into the life of an adolescent poet in rural China. But the poetry is not limited to the protagonist’s words, which appear as intertitles throughout the film; it is also there in the images captured of him, his family, classmates and his small village and its people. This is a confident and striking debut for filmmaker Deming Chen that should establish him as a new and vital voice in the documentary genre.
The film opens in color, then turns to black and white as if going back to a more innocent time. Later in the film, the color returns, desaturated and faint though beautiful, marking the passage of time. Chen, who acts as his own cinematographer, followed his protagonist Gong Youbin from the age of 9 to 13. In this slice-of-life portrait, Chen shows how childhood experiences can shape someone, illustrating how a childhood passion might expand their horizons without necessarily becoming a lifelong vocation.
The filmmaker wanted to make a film about poetry. Then Gong decided to stop writing. That initial instinct remains intact, as the images he captured maintain the aura of poetry. This change of course allowed for the inclusion of the writing of Gong’s classmates, making a film more expansive as a bevy of adolescents find their voices and are influenced by the terrain and the economic hardship of their surroundings. Whether confronting their tough realities or fleeing into a world of dreams, their poems give “Always” its beating heart.
Still, Gond remains at the center of the story. He lives in a multigenerational household with his father and grandparents. The patriarch had his arm amputated in an accident that hindered his ability to provide for his family. All three generations work together, in the house, on the farm and in the fields. They might be living in poverty and seeking government subsidies, but this is a household marked by perseverance and humor. Gong and his family members are aware of the filmmakers, even mention the filming, yet remain largely unselfconscious in front of the cameras. The film doesn’t ask for sympathy for this family or present them as objects of pity. Rather, it patiently shows them living and thriving despite hardship.
A trauma evident in Gong’s life is the fact his mother ran away when he was very young. Though it’s implied that she may have wanted to escape the harsh economic conditions that her husband’s disability exacerbated, the answer never becomes clear to Gong. In a poignant scene, Chen asks him about his mother, with the camera following him escaping and trying to hide under a bale of hay. Gong might not be able to articulate the impact of this abandonment in words, but “Always” renders it painfully clear.
This film is also about landscape and environment. The camera painstakingly takes in Gong’s surroundings: fields of crops, mountains half-hidden by fog, insects moving in soil, the faint dust of the stars at night. Most passionately, it shows the elements these people are working with. The land gives them life. There’s no didacticism about climate change; ”Always” just shows that the land and what it gives is how people thrive. Some of these achingly beautiful images look like paintings come to life briefly on celluloid. The dialogue is sparse in this slow cinema exercise. It might test patience but also rewards those who give in and embrace its rhythm, taking their time looking at every corner of its beautiful frames.
In using both words and images as poetry, Chen has made a film about the end of childhood that beautifully captures that stage in all its complexities and beauty.
