At the ongoing West Lake Documentary Conference, post-95 director Zhu Xin premiered his second feature film, "Under Phoenix Mountain: A Ci." This unique film chronicles the younger generation's quest for history and nostalgia through a Song lyric, "Jiang Cheng Zi," written nearly a thousand years ago by Su Shi. It presents a dramatic reconstruction of the creator's relationship with history and the present in a format that blurs the lines between documentary and narrative storytelling.

Poster for "Under Phoenix Mountain: A Ci"

Last month, at the eighth Pingyao International Film Festival, "Under Phoenix Mountain: A Ci" won the Young Jury Honor and the Mysterious Selection Award. The jury remarked, “Although it is a documentary, it possesses the plot and character charm of a narrative film. The film is original and sincere, reflecting the confused yet passionate visage of contemporary youth, showcasing a valuable contemporaneity.”

Young director Zhu Xin hails from Hangzhou. His debut feature film, “Wandering,” used a surrealistic approach to document the life and changes in this city, boldly entering the Berlin Film Festival. By chance, Zhu discovered Su Shi's "Jiang Cheng Zi," which is intriguingly connected to his own living space, prompting him to explore the deeper relationship between this lyric and his own life. A group of young people uniquely unveils the process of discovering their hometown, which transforms into an adventure and verification that transcends time and space.

Zhu Xin at the West Lake Documentary Conference

Reaching the Hometown Within the Song Through Imagery

In the lyric "Jiang Cheng Zi," Su Shi writes, "Under Phoenix Mountain, the rain clears, the water breeze is refreshing, and the evening glow is bright." Interestingly, Zhu Xin lives nearby, just across a river.

“The place where I now live is exactly separated from where I lived in the past by this river. One day while walking around my home, I realized that my connection to my past life was dwindling,” Zhu reflected. This realization sparked a desire in him to understand how much the scenery of Phoenix Mountain and the city has changed over the millennium.

Zhu Xin's home sits just across the river from Phoenix Mountain

Poetry offers a unique entry point into this theme, differing from the textbook knowledge often encountered during school days. Driven by this curiosity, director Zhu Xin gathered his friends interested in visual creation in Hangzhou, deciding to film a Song lyric. “Many lyrics merely describe a scene, but 'Jiang Cheng Zi' has a visual overview that fits well for showcasing the process of exploration,” Zhu explained. “I want to understand a past world that is significant to me, one that I may not reach.” Moreover, Su Shi’s life circumstances while writing this lyric echo with a distant resonance that Zhu could feel.

The conventional approach would be to start with text, finding visual expressions through academic studies of classical literature, creating a "translation" in film. In the documentary, the crew imagines the scenery as ancient poets viewed it by searching for corresponding coordinates in contemporary urban settings. Through experts in classical Chinese and folk music, they recover the auditory dimensions of the poem, seemingly creating a clear path to understanding. The first half of the film captures Zhu and his friends attempting to shoot an "MV" for lyrics traditionally recited, but this only scratches the surface.

A vital dramatic conflict arises when the crew examines the line "I suddenly hear a mournful zither on the river"—is it even possible to hear sounds from the Qiantang River on the West Lake? Consequently, a group of young people rigorously explored various methods to corroborate this possibility, revealing a blend of absurdity, persistence, and sincerity. As the story progresses, the conflict between text and reality evolves into tensions between the director and those around him, as the task of “objectively” representing a scene from a thousand years ago in today’s space transforms into the creator's journey of letting go of personal obsessions and reconciling with others.

“If this were a documentary about culture and art, it could be aired on a television station. Why am I the one filming it?” Zhu Xin, a graduate of the China Academy of Art without formal film training, stated that he approached the project in a manner closer to contemporary art.

Still from "Under Phoenix Mountain: A Ci"

“If past memories are traceable, then I could just use Baidu Encyclopedia; why embark on this journey?” When discussing the motivation behind the film's creation, Zhu Xin emphasized, “From the very beginning, I decided I was pursuing something ‘untraceable.’ In this process, imagination is crucial, and I want to be a fictional witness. If I have the courage to face the truth of these lyrics, then this process becomes one of dissolving it; the film might arrive at some answers through more indirect means.”

A Tale of Two Cities in the Lyrics

Before considering how Song lyrics “sing,” Zhu Xin developed a fascination for Cantonese lyrics for many years. Cantonese songs typically have melodies created first, with lyrics added later, making it a process of embedding words within sound. “It’s a kind of tangible text, unlike poetry, which is direct; it’s not purely about words,” he explained. Meanwhile, the Song lyrics that only retain their titles were similarly a form of “lyric creation” in their time.

Zhu Xin clarified that he has never approached poetry from a purely literary perspective. “I believe it is related to dialect and sound perception, and as a film director, I must feel the auditory dimensions of the lyrics from an audiovisual perspective, presenting it as an audiovisual art rather than merely a document.”

By chance, Zhu met the Hong Kong lyricist Xiao Ke, who demonstrated for him the Cantonese pronunciation of “Zao Fa Bai Di Cheng,” which does not rhyme in Mandarin, “Before dawn, I bid farewell to the White Emperor amidst the colorful clouds, returning to Jiangling in a day.” It unexpectedly rhymed. “He recited it in Cantonese, and I was surprisingly drawn in by his rendition. This prompted me to explore what connections this process might have with my own life.”

Xiao Ke traveled from Hong Kong to Hangzhou, grappling with a sense of alienation upon encountering the city. As one of Xiao Ke's few friends in Hangzhou, Zhu Xin's film also carries a unique perspective on the "Tale of Two Cities" between Hong Kong and Hangzhou.

Still from "Under Phoenix Mountain: A Ci"

Throughout the film, Zhu Xin and Xiao Ke often engage in discussions about the question “What is a lyric?” The creators reconstruct the relationship between lyrics and life through different life scenes. Some connections are culturally textual, while others depict ordinary daily life or even an escape from an unsatisfactory existence.

In the latter part of the film, the medium of documentation shifts from digital to irreversible film. Two actors portray Su Shi and Zhang Xian, drifting together on West Lake, reciting the carefully reconstructed ancient pronunciation of "Jiang Cheng Zi." “As the physical film spins and everything around is silent, with birds flying past, you feel that moment intimately close to the essence of the poem; the changes over a millennium aren’t so vast after all.”

Still from "Under Phoenix Mountain: A Ci"

At the film's conclusion, the two literary creators engage in a lengthy dialogue addressing a certain indescribability of language, the miraculous experience of "words being inherently perfect, occasionally grasped by skilled hands," which can only be appreciated by those within the experience. This seems to resonate with Zhu Xin’s intent to convey as a creator: “It doesn't matter if the creator truly hears it. The blank meanings represent both the imaginative essence and an exchange with the author.”

Playing a Character Named Zhu Xin

As noted by the jury at the Pingyao International Film Festival, Zhu Xin “deceived” the judges. More accurately, "Under Phoenix Mountain: A Ci" is a “pseudo-documentary,” capturing events that have transpired over the past two years in a condensed and reenacted manner.

The awarding remarks from the Pingyao International Film Festival jury

In the eight months preceding, the crew indeed filmed the process of exploring "Jiang Cheng Zi." “But this process left me exhausted,” Zhu admitted. Disagreements with his mother and among crew members strained relationships, leading to increasing confusion and emptiness in his mental state.

Ever since developing an interest in film during university, Zhu joined a group of friends passionate about visuals in Hangzhou to form an interest group. They created “Wandering” to experiment with his film aspirations. Despite the success of his debut at festivals like Busan and Berlin, Zhu still feels entirely like an “outsider” in the film industry.

The filming of "Under Phoenix Mountain: A Ci" faced rough waters; the inherently elusive and experimental theme, coupled with the extended timeline, resulted in crew members expressing frustration over the director’s obstinacy, with some working overtime or exhausting their vacation days for various reasons. “Every meeting saw someone questioning why we were filming this way. After a long struggle, I finally decided to face reality, to confront this truth. Even if certain things were unattainable, I had to include them in the film. My rebellion against the world is reflected in every detail.”

Additionally, his relationship with his mother provided another layer of observation about his own life. The timing of the shoot coincided with her retirement, leading to increased focus on Zhu as they needed to find a new balance in their interactions.

"Under Phoenix Mountain: A Ci," right from the title, gives a solemn and serious impression, examining historical and cultural keywords like Song lyrics, Hangzhou, and Su Shi. The topics extend beyond weighty themes to encapsulate the struggles and confusions of contemporary youth living in the moment. Zhu humorously notes that as a freelancer, “In the daytime, I discuss ‘Before dawn, I bid farewell to the White Emperor amidst the colorful clouds,’ while at night, I’m still debating with my mother over who will pay social security this month.” Similar confusions and divisions play out consistently.

Zhu acknowledges that the internal motivations for crafting "Under Phoenix Mountain: A Ci" are related to his own confused mental state. “I exist largely on the margins of the industry; even though I appear to carry the title of director, people’s perceptions of me are incomplete. Along with anxiety in a post-pandemic era amplifying uncertainty, I’ve also developed a sense of alienation from a once-familiar city, feeling that it is drifting further away from me.”

The entire film's creation was a journey from “knowing to not knowing, and then rethinking what I want to shoot”—“In that process, constantly facing doubts leads me to question why I started this, but then I realize that I might as well witness why I became 'uncertain on what to film.' This journey is basically one of stubbornness giving way to letting go, similar to many others' experiences as they grow up. I simply presented it through the lens of 'lyrics,' while others might express their academic or work-related projects.”