Last week we watched a movie by Zhang Yimou which highlighted a love story between a Chinese boy and girl that endures for 40 years. The son, Luo Yusheng returned to his native village of Sanhetun following the death of his schoolteacher father, Luo Changyu. His father's body lies unclaimed in the hospital morgue of a nearby city, and his mother Zhao Di insists that he be carried home on foot by the men of the village as traditionally done believing that a soul sent that way would never forget his way home.
However, the village was short of manpower due to the migration of the young generation to the city as a result of modernisation. The story then goes back in time to show how Zhao Di met the love of her life when the 18 years old Zhao Di fell in love with the new teacjer assigned to teach the children in her village. Almost like other love-sickened girl, her world began to evolve around Luo Changyu, always wanting to see him, to hear his voice, to the extent that she was willing to wait for him at the path he always taken to take his students home and standing for hours outside the classroom listening to his voice.
The moment I remembered the most is when Changyu is recalled to the city as part of a political investigation and Zhao Di tried to catch up with him to give him dumplings for his long journey. But she stumbled along the way. It was like I can feel my heart breaking just as hers break into pieces. I could taste my other bitter loss I had experienced, the sickening lurch, the hardening and the crumbling. And just like what I had undergone before, against the odd she hold to her dreams, hoping and doing whatever she can to be reunited with her love. But unlike me, luckily she won her trophy where I failed miserably.
This story really reaches to me. I can taste their feelings on my skin as raw as my own. Besides, I love the simplicity of its plot. Its cinematography was astounding and really great in setting the mood. I just simply love this story.
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