Summary
A masterclass in slow-building tension and character study gets to the heart of loneliness and the need for belonging.
In Anthony Chen’s feature Wet Season, there was often the pervading sense that we were tantalisingly close to something that never caught fire. Following Drift earlier in 2023, THE BREAKING ICE (燃冬) takes a similarly leisurely exploration of different kinds of relationships. Here a trio of unlikely connections explores longing and isolation in a remote town.
Set in a cold winter in Yanji, on the Chinese side of the North Korean border, Shanghaiese Haofeng (Detective Chinatown’s Liu Haoran) finds himself literally and figuratively stuck. While on a bus tour of Korean cultural towns led by disaffected guide Nana (Zhou Dongyu), Haofeng loses his phone. Nana invites him to hang out with her friend Xiao (Qu Chuxiao).
From the start, it’s evident that there’s something lingering beneath the surface for all three players. After all, even ice sits on top of something. Haofeng keeps receiving calls from a medical centre and insists they are the wrong number. Nana is haunted by visions of a past as a competitive ice skater dashed by a foot injury. She, like Xiao, dreams of leaving Yanji but can’t quite make themselves move away.
Much of the film exists in a floating world, one where Chen is almost a documentarian for the micro adventures of Haofeng, Nana and Xiao. They drink, they dance, there’s attempts at sex and stealing books, and something of a minor love triangle. Through this, we get hints at what has damaged each of these people, even if they aren’t willing to articulate that to themselves.
Underlying this is a recurring mention of a defector who has crossed the border, with surveillance footage and wanted posters turning up wherever they go. It’s almost suggesting that this whole affair is just happening in the background of a larger story, with Chen flipping the script and putting a laser focus on an average group of people near the border.
Indeed, the border is a constant presence in Chen’s film. The trio walk along barbed-wire fences, and shout into the North Korean side. There’s always a feeling that they are walking between two cultures. It’s all gorgeously shot by Jing-Pin Yu (Better Days, Leap), from the neon drenched ice rinks and mazes to a climactic shot of Heaven Lake on Paektu Mountain. The spot, which turns up in paintings and imagery all throughout the film, has long been important for both Chinese and Korean peoples.
Liu Haoran gives one of his best performances to date. While Chen never reveals what Haofeng is running from (or to), there’s moments of verbalised suicide ideation that snap us out of the carefree reveries. Speaking directly to the theme of isolation and loneliness, there’s a scene where Nana and Xiao dance in a nightclub while Haofeng bursts into tears, alone in a crowded room.
Speaking at the Melbourne International Film Festival, which was one of the first public screenings after Cannes, Chen said that THE BREAKING ICE was “the result of a lot of pent-up energy during the pandemic.” Which makes sense, given the overall theme of the film. As we are now all a couple of years out from the majority of the lockdowns, perhaps we can all relate to this listlessness, caught in the liminal spaces and still getting used to feeling okay about other people.
2023 | China | DIRECTOR: Anthony Chen | WRITERS: Anthony Chen | CAST: Liu Haoran, Qu Chuxiao, Zhou Dongyu | DISTRIBUTOR: Melbourne International Film Festival | RUNNING TIME: 97 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 3 – 20 August 2022 (MIFF)
