TOPICS 

    Subscribe to our newsletter

     By signing up, you agree to our Terms Of Use.

    FOLLOW US

    • About Us
    • |
    • Contribute
    • |
    • Contact Us
    • |
    • Sitemap
    封面
    NEWS

    China’s New Hit Film is a Harsh Glimpse Into the Lives of ‘Aunties’

    “Like a Rolling Stone” has won rave reviews for exploring the darkness behind the story of China’s “road-trip auntie,” Su Min.

    It was one of the feel-good stories of the pandemic. Four years ago, 59-year-old Su Min left behind her abusive husband and decades of domestic drudgery to begin an epic solo road trip across China.

    As she crisscrossed the country in her little white Volkswagen, Su became a viral sensation. Millions followed her journey via social media. Media outlets rushed to profile her. Women all over China hailed her as a symbol of female empowerment.

    Now, a major new film based on Su’s life has hit Chinese theaters. But it’s not the crowd-pleaser that viewers were expecting.

    The road trip that made Su famous barely features, restricted to a few scenes bookending the action. Instead, the film focuses on the darker, often overlooked side of Su’s story: the years of pain that drove her to leave home in the first place.

    The result is a nuanced, understated, yet quietly devastating drama that is winning rave reviews in China — and sparking a rare national conversation about the struggles faced by middle-aged “aunties” like Su.

    Debuting on Sept. 15, “Like a Rolling Stone” initially struggled with a limited release and its unexpected content, which wrong-footed some early reviewers. But it is now emerging as a word-of-mouth hit.

    On the Chinese review platform Douban, “Like a Rolling Stone” was the top-trending movie throughout last week with a sky-high average rating of 8.6 out of 10. Many users have commented that watching the film made them look at their own society with new eyes.

    “Best horror movie of the year,” read one of the most upvoted comments. “Please bring your own blood pressure machine.”

    Weight of silence

    Told in an episodic style through a series of flashbacks, the movie charts the life of Li Hong — a middle-aged woman closely modeled on Su, played by star actress Yong Mei — as she struggles to break free from the constraints placed on her by her gender.

    Li’s entire life has been defined, and stifled, by the fact she was born a woman. As a child, she was denied the chance to attend university, with her parents prioritizing her brother’s education.

    Desperate to escape home, Li runs away to marry her boyfriend, Sun Dayong. But her marriage turns into another form of captivity, as Sun loses his job and gradually morphs into a brooding, self-absorbed bully.

    For years, Li juggles a succession of blue-collar jobs with running their home and raising their daughter, Xiaoxue. Most of her time is spent inside their cramped apartment, completing an endless series of chores while Sun sits in the living room, watching TV and slurping slices of watermelon.

    The depiction of Li’s marriage in “Like a Rolling Stone” has sparked intense discussion over recent days. The abuse Li experiences is nothing compared to what Su faced in real life: While Su was beaten by her husband for years, the film avoids shocking scenes of domestic violence.

    Instead, director Yin Lichuan focuses on small moments of unkindness: Sun’s impatient rapping on the kitchen window when he wants his dinner; his flash of anger when Li asks him to use an ashtray; his nasty put-downs and insistence that Li is “lazy.”

    As these moments accumulate, the sense of tension and claustrophobia inside the apartment becomes unbearable. When Li snaps and stabs herself with a fruit knife, it does not come as a surprise. Neither does Sun’s lack of contrition.

    These scenes have sparked a real stir, especially on Chinese social media, where many users commented that they found the film “scary.” Others opened up about having experienced domestic abuse themselves or expressed shock upon learning that friends or family members had similar stories.

    “After watching the film, my mom said: ‘Her life isn’t that tragic, why is she so depressed?’” one user on Douban wrote. “At that moment, I suddenly understood why this film needed to be made.”

    Some also argued that “Like a Rolling Stone” should have gone further. The actor Jiang Wu, who plays Sun, has faced criticism for giving a “restrained” performance, with many commenters joking darkly that their own husbands would have done a more convincing job.

    “The scariest thing is that after watching the film, many netizens are saying: ‘People who have had similar experiences all know that the acting is restrained,’” read one highly upvoted Douban post.

    Yin, the director, has admitted that she had originally planned for Sun to be an even darker character. But no actors had been willing to play such a “negative” role, forcing her to soften his image.

    Wake up call

    Ultimately, however, “Like a Rolling Stone” isn’t a film about domestic abuse. Its main target is the traditional value system that essentially defines women as lesser beings, relegating them to the role of domestic caregiver.

    Li doesn’t leave home to escape Sun; she leaves to finally free herself from her domestic obligations as a wife, mother, and grandmother, which have forced her to put her own dreams aside for decades.

    Again and again, Li is asked to cancel her own plans. She pulls out of a class reunion to take care of her daughter, Xiaoxue, who is about to give birth. Another trip bites the dust because Xiaoxue wants her to look after the grandchildren while she looks for work.

    An interesting strand running through “Like a Rolling Stone” is the way that different characters are complicit in enforcing traditional gender roles. Li’s father and husband are the most aggressive in pressuring Li to make sacrifices for the family. But the female characters participate in this, too.

    When Li’s father prevents Li from attending university, or talks her out of divorcing Sun, Li’s mother refuses to intervene on her behalf. In her mind, it is natural for daughters to have to submit to their fathers’ decisions. When Li points out that such norms harm every woman, she replies distantly: “I never had any objection.”

    Later, Li also finds herself at odds with her daughter, Xiaoxue. As a child, Xiaoxue was deeply scarred by the tense atmosphere at home. In one scene, she urges Li to get divorced, and swears she will never marry.

    Though she does later settle down and have kids, Xiaoxue remains terrified of ending up like Li. She fights tooth and nail to maintain her career, and reacts furiously whenever her husband suggests that she should “relax” and take care of the kids at home.

    However, her feminism is selective when it comes to Li. While she does help her mother stand up to her father, she also expects her to provide free child care whenever needed.

    It seemingly never occurs to Xiaoxue that she is exploiting Li. She is so focused on her own struggle for independence, she has become oblivious to her mother’s needs. But it is this hypocrisy that finally pushes Li over the edge. As she storms out of the apartment, Li yells at her daughter: “I have my own plans, I’m the same as you!”

    But the film ends on a hopeful note. Li’s outburst proves to be a wake-up call for Xiaoxue, who takes back full care of her children without complaint. In the movie’s final moments, she calls Li to apologize for her past selfishness.

    It’s a message of female solidarity that the filmmakers have also sought to stress while promoting the film. At the premiere, actress Wu Qian, who plays Xiaoxue, urged younger viewers to listen to their mothers.

    “Don’t believe the myths about mothers,” Wu said. “Your mom has her own needs, her own emotions and desires, I hope everyone will pay attention to that and respect her.”

    Su, for her part, has continued to urge her fellow “aunties” to take their destiny into their own hands. She knows better than anyone that change is possible.

    During a recent media appearance, it was put to Su that Chinese women have traditionally been taught to endure hardship without complaint. She nodded, then replied: “But now I don’t think that way, because after I left I saw the truth. It was an awakening.”

    Editor: Apurva.

    (Header image: Stills from the 2024 film “Like a Rolling Stone.” From @电影出走的决心 on Weibo)