The tradition of combining comedy with farce, and the focus on "nobodies" and folk phenomena, reemerged in Taiwan's regional novels in the 1980s. Among these writers, Huang Chun-ming and Wang Chen-ho are outstanding representatives. Their novels, such as The Taste of all Apple, A Cart of Dowry, and Rose, Rose I Love You are full of parodic, witty, satiric tones. Throughout them readers can find between the lines the actual absurdity and pitifulness faced by "nobodies" everywhere. This style of comedy is very much like what is found on the screen in Charlie Chaplin's movies, as well as in more recent films like the Italian Neo-Realistic works "Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow" and" Miracle on Madonna Street."
Unfortunately, most movies adapted from regional novels, such as Rose, Rose I Love You and A Cart of Dowry, have not fully grasped the spirit of sympathy in the original novels, and therefore turned out to be essentially collections of slang and vulgar language. The common people, the nobodies, are shaped clownishly, the original tasteful tones in the novels are sullied, and only weak rapport is established with the audience. Not until the emergence of Wang Tung's "Strawman" did the situation change, and did the literary tradition of parody finally translate effectively into movie form.
"Strawman" is just the kind of regional story that lies between farce and sentimentality. The background of the film is the countryside of Taiwan during the Japanese occupation (1895-1945). Through vivacious description of clownish characters, satiric plots, and ridiculous and comical imagination, script writers Wang Hsiao-di and Sung Hung capture the harm done people by wars. The script illustrates as well the difficulties—and embarrassments—people face as they strive to adjust to the new environment.
The film opens with a sorrowful situation that simultaneously is richly associated with ridicule and comicalness. During a small funeral, the Japanese soldiers present at the gathering of mourners salute the families of those Taiwanese soldiers who died for the Pacific War, but do it through military rites and in name of the Emperor of Japan. The music of lament from both Western and Chinese trumpets becomes a cacophony of absurdness and ridicule. It simultaneously sets the basic tone of comedy while making fun of the conflict between the two peoples.
The scene also indicates the theme of the film: the harm war brings to all people. For instance, the families of soldiers receive only corpses, if even that, after their sons have gone away to fight in other parts of Asia. This angle on the times should not be forgotten when laughing at the characters in the film.
The main characters, Chen Fa and his brother Chen Kuo-tsui, are facing a typically absurd and desolate situation. To avoid being conscripted to fight along with the Japanese in Southeast Asia, their mother rises in the middle of the night to smear their eyes with dung. They become blind and thereby escape conscription.
This scene is reminiscent of Wan Fa in "A Cart of Dowry" and even Ah Fa in "The Taste of an Apple" (see FCR, October 1983), who also each impel sympathy because of some kind of disablement that enabled them to acquire so-called "welfare." Wan Fa's deafness prevents him from hearing the gossip about his wife's love affair, and by pretending to be crazy and stupid he is somehow even further protected. In Ah Fa's case, a U.S. military vehicle runs into him and breaks his leg, but he becomes the envy of all others because thereafter his family receives apples to eat and eventually his daughter is able to study in the Stales.
Chen Fa and Chen Kuo-tsui are blinded to avoid a greater hurt, but how sorrowful it is! Despite their plight, their hearts somehow remain full of happiness. They forget all inconvenience because their disabilities have brought them material welfare. As a result, it sounds quite reasonable that one of them names his eldest son Niu-shih, meaning "dung."
All the members of Chen Fa's big family live humbly under Japanese rule: Shui-hsien who goes mad after her husband is killed in the war; his mother, who has the idea of smearing dung on her sons' eyes; two daughters-in-law; and a large number of children. Except for farming, scaring away sparrows on newly sown fields, and feeding themselves, they still have to deal with the lectures given by Japanese soldiers and repeated air defense exercises. The script does not depict directly the hardships of life during these trying days; instead, they are drawn from the subtleties of various episodes. For instance, in one scene the children wait impatiently for the adults to eat their fill of a fish at dinner so that they can have some, then burst into tears when they see the fish flipped over as their elders continue eating its delicate flesh.
The most engaging of the subplot lines concerns bombs. Farm kids squat on the ground and wait for bomb explosions because the fragments can be exchanged for daily necessities from Japanese soldiers, but they are so frightened they cannot even cry during bombing raids. Then a stunning event occurs. A bomb falls from the sky and does not explode. The Chen brothers immediately think of the rewards that they may receive from the Japanese for their heaven sent treasure. Meanwhile, the local policeman expects to get a promotion and become rich as a result. Literally everyone regards the falling of the bomb as being of great welfare value.
The double metaphor or the bomb is a stroke of genius. It illustrates the naive awkwardness of the people, their feeling of being at a loss at what to do between the two powers of the U.S. and Japan, and it also ties in associations with the troublesome sparrows who land on the "strawman" in the fields—the scarecrow. For the grown-ups, the sparrows are irritating because they always steal grain from the farms; but they are lovely in children's eyes, for they can shoot them with slingshots and roast them to eat. Likewise, the villagers greet the potentially harmful bomb passionately as if they were celebrating, only because it may bring them the rewards of their dreams.
Therefore, like attending their master, the Chen brothers and the corpulent, lazy policeman lift, push, and carry the bomb a great distance to the Japanese policemen in hopes of reward. This scene presents the strongest images in the film. Although their attempt does not succeed at all in the way they expected—the Japanese policemen scold them and order them to drop the bomb into the sea—great benefit is still derived. The bomb explodes after falling into the sea, and immediately after the Chen brothers congratulate themselves for not being killed, they hastily follow the other villagers into the water to drag in the fish killed by the concussion from the bomb's detonation.
The absurdity of it all carries sorrow with the laughter. Like Wan Fa and Ah Fa, the Chen family all experience some sense of happiness, no matter how skewed. Bowls full of fish raise their expectations: a child says that he wishes bombs would fall there everyday, and his grandmother says in reply: "one bomb every two or three is good enough."
Complicated images and ridiculous metaphors make "Strawman" a strong political satire. From it comes a sensitive view of how people lived during the Japanese occupation. There is a clearer picture of their struggle for lives that minimized the wartime harm caused by both the U.S. and Japan. Like regional novels, "Strawman" succeeds in portraying the consistent gentleness and simplicity of Chinese farmers who always accept their fate, and shows as well that the rich tradition of parody in Chinese literature has taken root in Taiwan's cinema.—(Chiao Hsiung-ping is a well-known film critic in Taiwan. She received her M.A. in film from the University of Texas.)
Wang Tung was born in Soochow, Kiangsu Province, in April 1942. His family moved to Taiwan in 1950, and he eventually graduated in Fine Arts from the National College of Arts. Wang later joined the costume design department at the Central Motion Picture Corporation, where he worked his way up from the lowest level, first as a set designer and later as an art director. His on the job training was extensive indeed, for he worked on more than 100 different productions, and along the way has picked up four Golden Horse Awards since 1976 for art and costume design.
In 1981, 17 years after joining the company, Wang directed his first film, "If I Were for Real," a remake of the mainland play which is a scathing indictment of corruption in the Communist system. But in Wang's skillful hands, the film was no hackneyed propaganda tract, but a believable and gripping movie with a message. "If I Were for Real" won a Golden Horse Award in 1981 for best picture and rocketed him into the public eye as a director to watch.
His 1983 "A Flower in the Raining Night" (see FCR, November 1983), was awarded that year's Golden Horse Awards for best actress and best supporting actress. Then on the evening of the 24th Golden Horse Awards in October 1987, his "Strawman" captured the awards for best picture, best director, and best original screenplay.
Like the man himself, Wang's films are very Chinese in spirit, filled with strains of strong filial piety, loyalty, and forgiveness. Critics have praised his films for being "honest," "free of stereotypes," and "analytical of human nature while full of concern and tolerance."
Filmography (as director):
1981: If I Were for Real
1982: Portrait of a Fanatic
1983: A Flower in the Raining Night
1984: Running Away
1985: Papa's Spring
1987: Strawman