China checkered

PBS's Born Under the Red Flag

by Alicia Potter

CHINA: BORN UNDER THE RED FLAG. Airs this Wednesday, July 9, at 9 p.m. on WGBH/Channel 2.

The focus on China's brutal, spectacular rise to global industrial tiger has never been more intense as the country kisses off the last niggling vestige of British imperialism (there were even T-shirts to commemorate the event this week). Indeed, a nation that just 100 years ago was stalled at the technological status of premodern Europe will ostensibly propel the 21st century. This remarkable climb to the apex of modernity is the subject of the third and final chapter of PBS's China series, China: Born Under the Red Flag, to air this Wednesday on Channel 2. (The previous installments were China in Revolution and The Mao Years.) Smart viewing for anyone whose knowledge of the country stops at an appreciation of good moo shi, the documentary delivers a straightforward, streamlined history lesson haunted by a chorus of anguished voices.

Despite its timely relevance, Born Under the Red Flag lacks the urgency and drama of The Gate of Heavenly Peace, last year's visceral exploration of the Tiananmen Square massacre and perhaps the finest analysis of Chinese history ever committed to celluloid. PBS's effort, written and directed by Sue Williams, is by-the-book documentary filmmaking, mostly news footage (some never before seen) and talking heads. But despite the ho-hum approach, the film does capture the frustration, anger, and grief of a people who have watched their country flourish economically but at the cost of countless lives.

It picks up with the death of Communist leader Mao Zedong and China's ensuing struggle to regain its footing after a failed revolution. In part one, "Surviving Mao," scrappy rebel Deng Xiaoping assumes power to exonerate the millions who like himself were attacked during the country's disastrous Cultural Revolution. Under his early regime, an uncharacteristic (and short-lived) political expressionism flowers, most potently epitomized by Beijing's Democracy Wall. In a heart-stirring moment, crowds of citizens, bundled in kerchiefs and overcoats against a light snow, pause with tilted heads, scanning the fluttering scraps of poetry and political criticism others have tacked up on the makeshift monument.

The documentary presents Deng as a little wombat of a dictator, as comfortable waving from the stands of an American rodeo in a 10-gallon hat as he is wangling a quickie trial to roust a dissident. His reign is a lurching ride of sweeping economic change darkened by political intolerance. A farmer speaks proudly about being able to feed his family, the result of Deng's landmark act that allowed peasants to peddle their surplus crops. In chilling contrast, a political prisoner describes how guards pried his mouth open with metal pincers and shoved a tube of food and water down his throat to halt his hunger strike.

Part two, "The Next Generation," crackles with the fire of fed-up youth. Bridging the transition from the first half's predominantly economic viewpoint is shaggy-haired rocker Cui Jian (think Kurt Cobain with an agenda), whose smoky stage show inspired a generation to act out against government constraints. The students and young workers interviewed seethe with bitterness and defiance, and as the violence of Tiananmen Square once again detonates in news footage, one wonders whether China will ever get it right. "I would never be Chinese in my next life," a worker/activist recalls screaming after the 1989 massacre. "Don't be Chinese. It is too horrible, too sad."

Indeed, nearly 15 years after a shellac-headed Margaret Thatcher clinked champagne glasses with diminutive Deng to seal the Hong Kong deal, there is little hope reflected in the commentary of Born Under the Red Flag. The glaring lack of discussion about the country's speculative future is the film's greatest omission. Perhaps the next generation has already seen too many broken promises, too much senseless bloodshed and rampant corruption, to find much hope in the events that currently glue the world to their nation's every move. For these people, life under the red flag has already proven suffocating enough.