‘Ascension’ Review: Oscar-nominated doc will change the way you look at China – SBS

No matter what your image of modern China, its nowhere near complete until youve seen it through New York-based, China-observing directorJessica Kingdons eyes. Working in the mould of photographers Lauren Greenfield (Queen of Versailles) and Edward Burtynsky (Manufactured Landscapes), theTribeca Film Festivalwinner trains her camera on the impacts of Chinas fast-exploding economy in the Oscar-nominated Ascension, leaving audiences with striking and frequently absurd scenes burned into their imaginations. Without contextualising what were seeing, the hi-def collage asks us to make sense of a society even more stratified and excessive than our own.

Kingdons curiosity spans the class divide, from assembly lines where women prepare silicone sex dolls for demanding clients to private dining rooms where nouveau-riche elites learn how to eat a banana with fork and knife. The title, taken from a poem written by her great-grandfather Zheng Ze, refers not to the rise of China (as one might presume) so much as the many obstacles blocking upward movement in a time of rapid change.

'Ascension' ranges from production lines to the lives of the wealthy. Source: XTR

Over a mesmerising 95 minutes condensed from visits to more than 50 locations around the country the director works her way up the social ladder, while never losing sight of the labourers toiling at the bottom of this putatively communist societys booming hyper-capitalist economy. The surreal first shot finds cleaning women balancing along the edge of a posh hotels rooftop pool, while a galling late scene watches an oblivious influencer complaining of possible heat stroke while ignoring the gardener working just a few yards away.

Ascension contains no talking heads, no spoken commentary or relevant data. Its a feature-length film essay on contemporary China a cinematic coffee-table book, filtered through the directors wry and by-no-means-apolitical American perspective. Kingdon approaches the subject as an outsider, with whatever biases that may entail; given her half-Chinese heritage, she understands this culture better than most. Meanwhile, audiences must draw their own conclusions from each scene. What may seem ironic to one viewer (like an embroidery machine stitching Keep America Great scarves) could resonate quite differently for someone else. We learn from what we see, but its also a litmus test of sorts, evoking pride in some and prejudice in others.

Early on, she shows outdoor billboards touting the Chinese Dream, President Xi Jinpings abstract term for the peoples collective and individual improvement. Work hard, and all wishes come true, reads another banner whereas a giant digital screen scolds jaywalkers at an intersection, publicly shaming those who take shortcuts. The carrot and the stick. But who among the labourers recruited to earn $US2.99 ($A4.40) an hour for easy work are actually living the dream?

Kingdon enters a number of these factories, where her footage recalls mid-century American films about industrial efficiency and progress except, the workers depicted look bored out of their minds. (The film is an extension of Kingdons 2017 short Commodity City, a 10-minute montage of the endless stalls in Yiwus five-mile (8 kilometre) indoor mall, where blas salespeople sit before walls of disposable goods.) Then come the more enterprising types, like livestreamer Jade Face, who offers makeup tips on the Taobao shopping platform, or the striver in the Star Boss program who says, After the two-day training, I decided to work to death.

The midsection of the film focuses on those enrolled in various seminars and coaching sessions to improve their standing. Women learn business etiquette, including when to hug and how to smile (pleasantly expose the upper eight teeth), while men study to become butlers or bodyguards. These scenes, which feel more intimate than the films impersonal opening act, repeat a strategy from Harun Farockis 1990 feature How to Live in the German Federal Republic, compiled entirely from instructional videos, in that such training exercises inevitably seem humorous when taken out of context (heck, theyre awkward to participate in as well).

Finally, in the films last half-hour, Kingdon enters the realm of wealth and leisure, revealing how those with disposable income spend their free time in video arcades and amusement parks, or educating themselves on fine European cuisine. Kingdon (who shares cinematography credit with Nathan Truesdell) has a great eye, framing scenes from unexpected but striking angles. Whether its dozens of inner tubes seen from above or a graveyard for bright yellow Ofo cycles (a bike-sharing company that folded in 2017), occasional artful shots elevate the more traditional character-focused material. Still, hardly any of Kingdons footage could be considered conventional, rendered all the more unusual by composer Dan Deacons electronic score, which swarms and thrums somewhat ominously in the background.

Viewed a certain way, it would be fair to call Ascension an epic film with a cast of hundreds (though we only learn the names of a couple of people). Its hard not to be overwhelmed by the sheer scale of her project, and its Kingdons work as editor that makes Ascension such a remarkable achievement. She organises all these disparate scenes into a logical upward progression, and even though we seldom know where we are or who exactly were observing, these foreign situations are relatable, engaging and often unforgettable. As a word of advice: If possible, find a way to immerse yourself in the movie, which has even shown a few times on Imax screens. As a window into a nations soul, theres no better way to watch. Its the ideal way to see one of the years top docs.

Ascension screened onSBS VICELAND andis streamingat SBS On Demand for a limited time.

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'Ascension' Review: Oscar-nominated doc will change the way you look at China - SBS