Director: Ziru Wang
Running time: 40mins
One of the ways we so often fail to live up to our dreams, is that we fail to understand their true value. In a world where living a dignified and comfortable life has become tied to making money, so often we think our dreams are about doing that. So, when Zhaoman Zeng (who goes by Aman) began to dream of being an artist, he reflexively assumed those aspirations were a way of becoming rich and famous.
Ziru Wang’s short documentary follows Aman over a tumultuous half-year, during which The Man is called to re-evaluate The Artist, and what his desire to create has really been informed by. Aman moved his young family from China to New York City in a bid to chase his dream – but having finally settled, he kicks up the dust again by moving them into a cramped studio that he has afforded by selling paintings and working as an art tutor. As he tries to capitalise on his earlier success, though, he finds himself increasingly at odds with his environment – drifting into solitude, while struggling to complete his work.
Ziru Wang’s silent fly-on-the-wall camera captures two sides to Aman in these opening exchanges. There is a person who bristles at the slightest interruption, or the mildest assertion that he might accommodate his wife – who tirelessly cares for the kids, and finds ways to keep them away from the house while Aman works – and spends much of his downtime zoned out in bed or in a chair. And then there is a person who springs to life whenever he interacts with the artistic process; a person who nurtures curiosity and expression in those around him, who has boundless energy to discuss other people’s work at art exhibitions, analysing what they had to say or critiquing their process.
The first third of the film is a little hard to watch for this reason. Not just because Aman is so deeply unlikeable in the moments where he badgers and belittles his wife so that he can spend more time on his work; or because it is clear that this man is capable of being a lively and loving individual when he puts his mind to it. No, more than that, it is distressing because it holds up an unwelcome mirror for many of us who have sought to combine a dream with our employment. Doing something you love for money –writing, music, sport, cooking, gardening, construction, whatever – is something which can so very quickly transform you into an obsessive bore, low on energy and prone to spiteful outbursts at the first sign of trouble. And the deeper you sink into that rut, the further you will drift from the real reasons why you loved that thing in the first place – and take it out on those around you.
Sometimes, life will find a way to shake us out of this – and while it might not always feel like it, if those people are willing to learn the lesson being taught, they are lucky. Ziru Wang’s camera happens to be present for just such a moment for Aman.
One afternoon, Aman welcomes a faceless businessman – titled only as Boss W – into his studio. During the conversation, it emerges this person has a large amount of disposable income (he tips in everyone in $100 bills) and is part of New York’s Chinese diaspora. This could be a major customer, if Aman can only close the sale. So, when Boss W produces a luxurious bottle of wine to fuel the meeting, Aman is willing to partake, even though he is on medication that does not mix with alcohol.
Hours later, there is no sale. Boss W ‘admires’ the work, but also feels Aman’s style of mixing Western and Eastern influences is too Western (and probably more importantly to him, would have limited re-sale value to Western clients who would “not understand” the Eastern elements). Aman is left to nurse a headache, which eventually turns into a night of vomiting. The next day, a trip to the doctor suggests the episode has uncovered something even more severe.
The sudden medical emergency leads to a dramatic change in the way Aman is living. He takes a camping trip with his wife, children and a couple of friends – and while the early stages are as frosty as ever (thanks in part to the fact that putting up a tent is an inherently frustrating process), soon his partner is marvelling at the transformation she sees. It is like Aman is a new man, happy, making jokes, frolicking with the children on a nearby football pitch.
This reinvigoration coincides with a sudden purple-patch for Aman as an artist. Before, in the studio, he was complaining of being unable to finish paintings. Now, though, he is imbued with a new creative energy. Echoing a scene where lone Aman’s form can vaguely be spotted (one of the most arresting images among the all-round brilliant cinematography), sheltering next to a roaring campfire, we are shown an abstract self-portrait of him by a fire, surrounded by a grey tumult of billowing smoke. Another image shows him driving a tractor through a dark and distant field.
Even though his illness has led him to leave the studio to rest, rather than create art, he returns to his dream – perhaps with a new understanding of it. The experience of being able to reach out and reconnect with his loved-ones has helped him to understand what was wrong in the first place – not just that he was lethargic from an undiagnosed sickness, but that he had become cut off from the people who really matter, and beyond that, the reason he still wants to make art. Not to provide a pleasing trinket to unappreciative businessmen; but to communicate. To speak in a way that his words often fail; to bare his soul, and to be understood by other people.
The film concludes with life still uncertain for Aman and his family. His illness does not seem to have been as severe as first thought – and while the experience has left him more appreciative of his life, while understanding that fame and fortune wasn’t really what he was looking for anyway, they have been kicked out of the studio. The landlord, who was already nagging them about using the thermostat in the place saw fit to move them on. Apparently a less-expensive new apartment in Brooklyn has already been lined up, so hopefully Aman can sustain that without falling back into his earlier rut. But in New York, who knows how well his work will have to sell, just for that?
It is in these grey areas that Ziru Wang’s documentary falls a little short. There is not enough of an effort to explain the stakes to the audience – to suggest what is at risk, or what may be gained. There are not even really any reasons given as to why Aman decided New York was a better place to pursue his dream. It might also be nice to know how that dream has changed now, and what he hopes the future will look like in the new home.
Maybe this is also the unavoidable consequence of the unobtrusive style that gives us such unique insights into Aman’s life – but it means we only ever feel like an outsider looking in, rather than as though we have been invited to engage with this world. When it comes to applying the lessons to our own lives, it may prove a bit more of a stretch for some viewers, more used to documentaries with direct narratives.
There seems to have been some realisation of this in post, too. Ziru Wang occasionally includes sparse subtitles to clue us in on the latest developments – including the fact Boss W did not buy any of the art work he viewed. But this is an inconsistent device, which becomes conspicuous in its absence after it first appears. If a filmmaker makes this kind of decision to make the story easier to follow, they should try to deploy it more consistently – or risk drawing attention to the fact it was a hasty decision in editing. In a film where communication through abstract expression is at the heart of things, perhaps it would be more apt to leave us guessing about everything, rather than just explaining occasional details.
There are some impactful lessons about emotional intelligence, life and relationships tied up in this unassuming student documentary. In many ways, those are emphasised by Ziru Wang’s light-touch approach to filmmaking, letting the story breath, and giving us space to weigh up the ambiguities for ourselves. But there are a few stylistic contradictions which do this approach a slight disservice – while the director might have done a little more to talk the subjects into opening up this world, helping us contextualise its themes a little better in the process.