Director: Ningyue Hao
Writer: Ningyue Hao
Starring: Wenlu Xu (A), Xiyue Yang (B)
Running time: 7mins

There are short films, then there are really short films, and then there are films that are too short. Brigitte, with a production budget of just $750, was clearly up against the clock and it shows.
So abruptly does the film begin that it almost feels like we’ve arrived via an edit from a larger work that had already established its scenario and characters. Without the submission notes provided by the director, I think I might have struggled to understand what was going on at all. As it is, the film really needs a couple of watches to appreciate the story and develop empathy with our central character, played by Wenlu Xu and named in the credits simply as A. It’s always nice when a film repays repeat viewings but of course it’s a shortcoming if it can’t fully achieve its primary aims in the first sitting.
In any short story format, it’s vital to show the audience what is what, with maximum efficiency. All too often, cinema delivers this through clunky exposition so it’s refreshing that writer/director Ningyue Hao has taken a very different approach. Instead of providing a bland info-dump, she draws us into A’s world with minimal dialogue and a focus on letting us see through A’s eyes. The difficulty with this more subtle storytelling is that most of the important details have already been and gone before you realise that you’re supposed to be noticing them. As such, a single watch of this film suggests a fairly basic, moderately charming tale of a meet cute. However, further observation reveals some intriguing bits of backstory and layers of character complexity that were no doubt in the writer’s mind but don’t necessarily make the jump to the one-off viewer.
It’s important to note the context in which this film was created. As Jack Benjamin observed in his review of Touch of Freedom, Chinese film-makers are operating under the threat of censorship, especially if they’re looking to portray non-straight relationships. Judging by the submissions IFL receives, this isn’t deterring them, but rather motivating them to explore coded forms of expression. Brigitte’s use of visual metaphor and lack of spoon-fed explanation is likely a way of navigating this situation.

We’re never told who Brigitte is. I suspect it’s the second main speaking role, credited as B and played by Xiyue Yang, who turns up halfway through (eagle-eyed/repeat viewers will spot B entering the picture at the end of the opening scene). But it doesn’t really matter as that’s only the English name of the film. In Mandarin it’s, essentially, Shrimp, and this is far more pertinent. B is carrying a bag of live shrimp when she collides with a distracted A in a stairwell. As both women gather up the hapless creatures, their hands unintentionally brushing, B launches into an impromptu psychoanalysis of A.
“You look just like these shrimps,” she ventures, in a tone that’s more supportive than the words might suggest. “This type of freshwater shrimps… as long as there’s light on them, they stop moving and let people do whatever they want. Exactly the same as you are right now.”
B seems to have noticed what we’ve also come to realise, that A is getting through life by presenting a blank and guarded persona to the world, despite a whirlpool of longings and aspirations within. And really that applies to this film as well, and maybe Chinese student cinema more broadly.

I would love to see a slightly longer version of this story. It could potentially work well by being told from multiple points of view – the events as witnessed by two, three or even four characters. That kind of repetition could allow the full message to come across in a single sitting. As it is, it’s a work showing great potential. The two lead actresses deliver winning characterisations and I hope we see more from writer/director Hao.

