An Imperfect Fairytale for an Imperfect World
by Zhang Yangyu
“Our territory, our home, is not so much something we would call ‘our own’ but rather this parcel of space which is transformed by each of us as we leave a bit of ourselves: my home is not mine, it’s me.”[1]
— Vinciane Despret, Le Chez-soi des animaux
“That’s how it is, this world,” a treacly voice says in the innocent but edifying tone at the end of the musical animation McDull: The Pork of Music (Brian Tse, 2012), which is the fifth installment of the series based on an untalented, plain-looking but kind-hearted piglet and the kindergarten that he goes to. Oddly, such words come out of a young kid, who might have come to realize the truth of the world, or more likely, is simply practicing a conscious or unconscious imitation of the adults. To me, that makes it the best condensation of the film’s most marked characteristics, namely the inheritance of the mo lei tau (a style of Cantonese comedy) culture, an uncondescending exploration of children, and a commitment to the Hong Kong grassroots (or working class) experience.
The storyline of this tragicomedy moves forward simply. In the context of Hong Kong’s economic downturn, Springfield Kindergarten is in danger of bankruptcy. After a failed fundraising gala, the headmaster (Anthony Wong), formerly trained as a vocalist, decides to make one last effort by grouping the preschoolers including McDull (Michael Zhang Zhengzhong) to form a choir for profit. While none of the Springfield schoolfellows have become powerful or rich enough to save their old school, all of them have developed a fondness for singing, under the influence of the headmaster. The Springfield Chorus starts to sing at shopping malls and birthday parties, reaching its peak when it gets to perform with the Hong Kong superstar Perfect Andy (Andy Lau). However, due to misfortune and the continuous economic depression, the choir ends up not earning a penny and the kindergarten is finally closed.
The soundtrack of the film includes Canto-pop hits, British and Chinese folk songs, and European classical music from Mozart to Schubert to Mendelssohn, combined with lyrics remarkable for the typical Cantonese formula of sweetness as well as Mo lei tau humor. Along with the melody of Pachelbel’s “Canon in D,” it sings “I wish I were a piece of braised pork, to hold the pickles and hold your hand.” Rendering the melody of Saber Dance in Aram Khachaturian’s ballet Gayane, the Chorus presents a plain song called Car Car Car Car to promote traffic safety in a government-funded PSA competition, of which the only two sentences are “a car runs towards your old man” and “watch out for your old man” after repeating the word “car” dozens of times. Such complex interplay of cultural subtleties through nonsensical parodies and juxtaposition of contrasts are observed not only in the songs but also often in the dialogue and settings. The film nostalgically brings back the Mo lei tau culture, once iconic in Hong Kong cinema but which has faded away over the last two decades, creating a pleasant surprise for older audiences and opening a new door for the younger generation.
Unlike many children’s stories told by adults, this animation manages to tell the story in the children’s own language. For example, McDull can recite stock market fluctuations, probably because the topic has permeated TV broadcasts and the streets, but the ups and downs mean no more to him than a little airplane making moves in the sky. When he is touched by Perfect Andy’s singing, all McDull feels is the eagerness to poop, as if there is something strange inside him, making him want to both laugh and cry. Like the book Le Petit Prince, the animation has carefully preserved the innocent curiosity and imagination of children, not as simplified adults, but as human beings with very inventive thinking modes that often lead to interesting conclusions.
The film is never a refined fairytale depicting an ideal world. Sweet pastel colors go hand in hand with quirky drawings and beautiful singing with delicate satire; goodwill and efforts are not paid back and the powerless remain powerless; the moment when McDull comes to understand poverty, he also understands the fundamental inequality of society. Straightforwardly confronting the banality of the grassroots life as a large body of Hong Kong cinema does, this film serves a bowl of chicken soup in an unexpected manner: miracles don’t really happen, so we might as well understand life as such and tenaciously live on. As is the typical characteristic of the grassroots spirit, a blatant self-mocking attitude permeates the film, even the whole series. After all, the name McDull itself comes from Cantonese idioms for “dumb as a pig.” However, if there was still optimism in the older generation to believe that God will always look after them, as expressed in the 1998 song Dumb Kid by Andy Lau (not included in the film), that optimism in this animation has been transformed into an acceptance of life as it is, with little hope for change, but only for small mundane moments of happiness.
The director Brian Tse has stated that his works are meant for adults, although he is happy to have attracted young audiences. Quoting the classic Chinese thinker Meng Zi, “the great man is he who does not lose the pure heart of a child,” he hopes to be there for the adults by reminding them that they were all once children and in fact are still children, only a little older now. This film turns out to be a sweet comfort while not sugarcoating the reality, a lesson from children yet not childish, and a fairytale for an imperfect world.
[1] See the original text: Notre territoire, notre chez-moi, alors, n’est pas tellement quelque chose que nous dirions “c’est à moi,” mais ce morceau d’espace que chacun de nous transforme en y laissant un peu de soi: chez moi, ce n’est pas à moi, mais c’est moi.
Zhang Yangyu is an emerging writer and curator currently pursuing graduate studies at Tokyo University of the Arts. She writes for film and culture sites including Eastasia.fr. She co-runs the SZ curating, programming, and publishing page, https://szptp.home.blog/.