Since the institution of economic reforms beginning in the late 1970s, China has been a country that has seen a lot of change; even now more so than ever before. As more private enterprises have been allowed to flourish, the country has found itself in quite a dramatic transition from traditional Maoism to the materialist values of capitalism. While Ermo may comically tell a simple tale of a family from a small Chinese town, it finds itself deep within this cultural metamorphosis, cleverly pitting Maoist values against materialism and allegorically observing the changing landscape of China itself.
Materialism and “keeping up with the Joneses” are human facets to which we can all relate. It has certainly been analysed and even taken a bashing in films such as Fight Club and many others. Instead of eschewing good old materialism, director Zhou Xiaowen provides a more balanced examination of the growing influence of capitalism on China and its culture through the experiences of a woman living in the countryside.
The film’s namesake leads a simple life in a small town in China. Her husband, a former chief, suffers from an illness that prevents him from carrying out any real work, meaning Ermo must solely support him and their child by selling noodles that she makes at home. On top of this, there’s a fair amount of jealousy shared between her and her neighbour’s wife. While the neighbour’s wife has been unsuccessful in blessing their family with a child, they have a TV which means every other kid in the town wants to be at their house – including Ermo’s son. This invariably leads Ermo on a quest to get the biggest damned TV in existence — a whopping 29″ behemoth! So grand is this TV, it’s even rumoured that the country’s leader can’t afford one.
On the surface, the film quickly becomes like a role-reversed homage to Ozu’s Ohayo, with the mother playing the role of the children. However, deep within its light-hearted story lurks satirical commentary about greed and how culture is affected when introducing it to new values and thinking. As Ermo earns more money, we see traditional roles beginning to break down. She becomes the family provider, right down to supplying medicine for her husband, which is unusual for a woman in Chinese society. Her financial independence also begins to equate to a form of sexual identity as her neighbour “Blindman” becomes increasingly attracted to her but she refuses to accept money from him, asserting her (financial) independence. In a lot of ways, Ermo represents the new China — driven and financially empowered — filling the role once occupied by traditional China (represented by her husband, the former chief). The film says a lot about the values and traditions in China that may get discarded along the way as it heads towards a more modern society.
“Fifth generation” director Zhou Xiaowen proves himself to be a masterful and economical storyteller, always providing enough for the viewer and never too much. While the film underlines its simplicity with some serious messages, it is also sprinkled with many light moments making it quite an enjoyable light drama. The acting is consistently strong all throughout this film. As Ermo, Ai Liya has a magnificent screen presence that keeps you endeared to her even if you don’t always agree with the things she does. Likewise, Liu Peiqi (Together) brings in a great performance as the neighbour “Blindman”.
Once the TV programming has ended for the night, we see a message flash up on the television “再见” (Goodbye) to a silent, unlistening room. As the 29″ screen glows brilliantly, the film makes you hope and wonder if China’s uncertain future will be as bright as well.