In 1925, Gao Fengchun and his girlfriend He Li returned from studying in the UK, determined to save the country through medicine. They came to Dingzhou, a mountain city in western Fujian, to open a poor relief clinic. In the Wangjiang Tower, Gao Fengchun, He Li and their young friend Wang Zhanfei and Fang Liang, a student movement leader who recently met, debated how to save the country. In the bloody storm of counter-revolution, Gao Fengchun’s religious enlightenment teacher Charlie took off his disguise, Wang Zhanfei betrayed the revolution, Gao Fengchun’s hospital was destroyed, and He Li was deceived back to Shanghai. After a series of changes, Gao Fengchun's ideal of saving the nation through medicine was completely shattered. In the baptism of blood and fire, he gained a new life and plunged into the torrent of revolution.
Shot in gorgeous color, this fascinating communist flipside to fifties Hollywood music biopics chronicles the life and tragic early death of Nie Er, the composer of the PRC’s national anthem.
The passenger ship Haiyan, with more than a thousand people aboard, sails through a thick fog at night. Despite having the knowledge that there are reefs nearby, the captain refuses to stop or slow down.
Tian Zhenhua arrives in Shanghai to coach a local women's basketball team. Number 5 on the team, Xiaoje, excels at basketball but is unsure of whether to continue playing. As Tian gets to grips with training Xiaoje and the rest of the team, he reflects on his career as a star basketball player before the revolution.
A New York City businessman meets a window washer hoping to commit suicide and decides to market his grief to the highest bidder in this acidic satire on American capitalism, one made even more memorable by the fact that the entire “American” cast are Chinese actors in whiteface. The greedy Mr. Butler (Shi Hui) convinces the suicidal “Charley” that he might as well endorse some cigarettes as he jumps out of his office window, and maybe wear a particular suit too. A true cinematic oddity, this Korean War–era propaganda piece is a satire that Frank Tashlin could envy.
