Not One Less
Dir. By Zhang Yimou, 1999

"Not One Less," recently released on video, tells the poignant story of 
a substitute teacher in an impoverished  rural Chinese elementary 
school.  Teacher Wei -- at thirteen years old she is barely older than her 
students -- has to travel to the city to bring back a student who went 
there to find a job. 

The film is a critique of the state-capitalist Chinese government's 
neglect of the peasantry and the development of capitalist relations in 
the countryside. Together, these factors drive millions of rural children 
out of school into the cities to look for work, reversing the gains in 
basic education won under Maoist leadership from 1949 to 1976.

The first three-quarters of the film are harsh. With the exceptions of 
a few of the schoolchildren and the original teacher, the characters 
are motivated by self-interest, money, and distrust. Much of the dialogue 
is haggling over prices. Teacher Wei, for example, simply writes 
lessons on the blackboard and then locks the children in the classroom until 
they've copied the lessons down -- since she's being paid to keep the 
children in school.

In the city, few people pay attention to the problems of the lost 
schoolboy and teacher. They are reunited only after the manager of the local 
TV station puts the teacher on a popular program, out of his concern 
for the girl and poor rural schools generally. Teacher Wei and her 
student return to their village with chalk and other school supplies donated 
by hundreds of concerned viewers.

This ITAL deus ex machina END "happy ending" only sharpens the film's 
critique. Why should the well-being of the student, teacher, and school 
depend on the good-heartedness of one official? An epilog claims that 
15% of the rural students who quit school are able to return alter 
thanks to charitable donations. What of the other 85%? That so few are able 
to finish elementary school and then only with the help of kind 
individuals is a strong indictment of the current state-capitalist regime in 
China.

Director Yimou is unabashedly sentimental. For example, when asked what 
he will remember most about his experience in the city, the boy says 
quietly, "That I was forced to beg for food." Such strong, simple 
emotions may rub Amerikan audiences the wrong way -- they may find it maudlin 
or see the whole situation as artificial. MIM has said that Amerikans 
need to learn when to get angry; it follows that they also need to 
re-learn what tragedy and sorrow are. Rather than get misty-eyed over 
whether Nicole will dump her sugar daddy and get down with Ewan, audiences 
should gat sad -- and then get mad -- over the fact that hundreds of 
millions of children have their potential destroyed by poverty.