Sometimes the way that film distribution works really confuses me. Most foreign language films which get a release in this country, along with write-ups in the press and coverage by major film critics, come via favourable film festival screenings, or — if they’re from established directors with a public profile — they may get a release directly to cinemas. Usually any films released this way make it to a small handful of ‘arthouse’-friendly cinemas like the ICA or the Picturehouse or Curzon chains (based primarily in London; a bit sparse elsewhere in the country).
But then there is the popular cinema of non-western countries, which may make it into major chains like Odeon or Cineworld (easier to access and with more screenings, in many cases, than the more discussed arthouse releases from these places), and fly almost entirely beneath the radar of the English-language press. It seems to be rare for there to be much of a crossover between these two niches. If you live in the North-East of London, you may see Turkish films down the schedule on your local Cineworld; if you live out East or West (Ilford or Feltham, say), you’ll see a large number of Indian, Sri Lankan and Pakistani films. And if you go to the Odeon Panton Street, there will always be some Chinese-language films. Any of these can be an unexpected delight, but more often western viewers (okay, I’m talking about me here, obviously) will just be confused, for it turns out that the popular cinemas of various countries come with their own, often impenetrable, customs and codes of behaviour (I recall fondly seeing a South Indian film where every frame showing any kind of alcoholic product merited an onscreen warning about over-consumption for as long as it was pictured).
My point here is that I don’t really always understand what separates the two categories, for in many ways Someone to Talk To (the novel it’s based on translates the title as “One Sentence Worth Ten Thousand”) shares plenty of characteristics with the usual well-regarded dramatic pabulum you get from the US or UK domestic markets. You can easily imagine the four central characters being played by A-list actors in the US and the film would be reviewed as a solid, engaging relationship drama which gives space and time to its actors, and largely effaces any showiness (there are a few overly ingratiating travelling shots during scenes of exposition, but that’s all I can remember noticing). The way it develops its central theme — that people just need to communicate with one another to have successful relationships (hence the title) — can be pretty clunky at times, too.
Still, there’s a lot of sensitive acting on display, whether the perpetually perplexed and hang-dog looking Hai Mao as Aiguo, a cuckolded husband who won’t grant a divorce to his estranged partner Lina (Qian Li) for quite evidently petty reasons, or Wei Fan as cheery local chef Song, who remarries Aiguo’s sister Aixiang (Pei Lu), both lonely but ardently hoping to have… someone to talk to. The women get a little bit of melodramatic suffering to play, but the film isn’t about their unhappiness so much as the blinkered expectations of its two male leads, which are gently corrected as the film goes on. There’s rather a lot of suicidal ideation (and I feel I can’t not provide a content warning for a plot point which puts a child’s life in the balance), but for the most part this is a solid, involving relationship drama.
Director Yulin Liu 刘雨霖; Writer Zhenyun Liu 刘震云 (based on his novel, though the book is usually translated as One Sentence Worth Ten Thousand); Cinematographer Di Wu 邬迪; Starring Hai Mao 毛孩, Qian Li 李倩, Pei Liu 刘蓓, Wei Fan 范偉; Length 107 minutes.
Seen at Odeon Panton Street, London, Thursday 10 November 2016.