QUICK’N DIRTY: LIVE FROM BERLIN
It’s the future. Space travel is a reality. The wealthy leave the earth behind. Light Pillar is the name of the science project that makes this possible. It’s named after the neon streaks that paint the horizon as the rockets leave towards the sky day after day. But not everyone can afford such a luxury. While humanity looks enthusiastically towards the stars, some individuals are left firmly on ground and at home.
Lao Zha (Da Peng) is one of those men. He’s the janitor of a bankrupt film studio that barely holds together. He only gets paid every six months and barely enough money to survive at that. But he has accepted his solitary existence among the ruins of the various film sets and green screens. An elderly cat that was once a film star in its prime is his only company. Until one day his boss gifts him VR goggles that allow Lao to discover an entirely new world. Kind of.
In an interesting twist on this increasingly familiar concept, Light Pillar renders its real world in 2D animation while the virtual world is presented in low-res digicam live action footage. And this creative decision really gets to the core of this concept. Because in this technically-advanced but lonely future the ultimate escapist fantasy isn’t some Fortnite-esque adventure game where you can interact with all your favorite IPs and franchises like in Ready Player One (Steven Spielberg, 2018). It’s to live life again how it used to be. With people filling the streets, talking, drinking, partying… falling in love.
Lao Zha has never been in a romantic relationship before. He barely even has friends. But in the virtual world he quickly meets a woman (Qing Yi, and he falls head over heels for her. They spend every waking hour together that isn’t spent at their jobs. The separation between real life and the virtual world becomes quickly apparent. Reality only exists at this point to work and make money. You can then spend that cash within the software to live your normal life again. Of course the tech oligarchs offering escape into this cyberspace are the same ones who made planet earth so unpleasant to live in to begin with.
The visual presentation alone does so much to immediately make the virtual reality feel homely. Frantic hand-held camera movements make the scenes come alive.The grainy footage of the digital camera adds this melancholic, and yet also slightly cozy, feeling that we’re looking at something familiar from the past. Real people are suddenly walking around in the frame that before was entirely animated, and more than that, empty. The real world is nothing but a snow-covered ruin of dilapidated fake buildings for movies that nobody even cares to shoot anymore. Within it almost nobody but Lao Zha and his cat.
The sound design emphasises the differences between the two spaces. With the exception of one stunning dream sequence there’s no music playing over the animated footage.We barely hear any people talking, or birds chirping, or any sound whatsoever. Only the footsteps of Lao Zha walking through snow. Meanwhile the virtual reality is accompanied by a romantic film score at all times. Voices are all around you, the sizzling sound of street vendor’s grills, cars and bikes. It’s noisy and it’s alive.
This is an incredibly melancholic and supremely sad film. It’s a movie about the people that have been abandoned. The unfortunate individuals nobody cares enough to drag along with the rest. Poor souls who have to make due with the wreckage others have left behind. The virtual space that consoles them is nothing but an illusion, as lifelike as it is. I just wish the film utilized its abandoned film studio location a bit more. Whether that’s as a narrative anchor, a thematic symbol, or even just a fun visual. It’s such an evocative location to use for a movie and Light Pillar gets very little use out of it.
Light Pillar just premiered in the Perspectives section of the 76th Berlinale.
