
Hu Jie doesn't have the backing of big film studios or government grants. The acclaimed independent documentary filmmaker has to survive off wedding videos and illustration work. But his documentaries detailing the brutality of the Cultural Revolution (1966-76) have made the bewhiskered director quietly famous. His recently opened Sina Weibo account attracted over 10,000 followers within days.
Hu's documentaries, including In Search of Lin Zhao's Soul, Though I Am Gone, and My Mother Wang Peiying all focus on ordinary people who was tortured or killed for their criticism of the government during the tumultuous years.
"Ordinary people were drawn into the vortex of politics and their life was greatly changed. They represented the era," Hu said in a soft, mild voice. "However, they have been ignored, never been made public and someone has to step forward and save history."
Even though they have never been publicly released in China, Hu's films have spread widely on the Internet and drawn keen attention from the public.
Hu was born in 1958 and graduated from the Art College of the People's Liberation Army, where he majored in oil painting.
"I found that painting was far from reflecting what is happening in China," he said. He began to pursue a realistic way to express himself.
By that time, he was hanging out with some documentary producers, and realized making documentary can record history more precisely and truly.
Letters in blood
Hu discovered Lin Zhao's story in 1999 during a conversation with a friend. Lin was an outspoken Peking University student who was jailed in 1960 for her criticism of the authorities during the Hundred Flowers Movement in 1957 and the subsequent Anti-Rightist Campaign. She was later sentenced to 20 years imprisonment.
While in prison, she wrote hundreds of pages of critical commentary about Mao Zedong using her own blood. She was tortured and eventually executed in 1968.
"I was shocked," Hu said excitedly. He decided he should bring Lin's life to light.
By that time, he was a photographer for the Xinhua News Agency, shooting short films about migrant workers while doing research on Lin's story in his spare time. When his boss discovered his work, he was forced to resign.
Without financial support, he began to draw illustrations for magazines and books. "I draw hundreds of illustrations a week and they were sold at five to 20 yuan a piece," Hu said in a calm, low voice. To save money, he dined on bread and pickles.
In the next five years, he traveled all across China and visited a total of 90 interviewees, including Lin's relatives, friends, and classmates. With the help of Gan Cui, a former boyfriend of Lin, he found handwritten copies of her prison writings.
But it was tough to get other people to speak. "It's sensitive and many of them have closed the gates of memory," he said.
Hu recalled he once spent half a day persuading Huang Zheng, one of Lin's friends to speak.
"When I first met Huang in Suzhou, he queried my intentions for hours. He didn't trust me. He didn't open his mouth until I reassured him repeatedly that I wanted to show people who Lin Zhao is."
Another interviewee slammed the door in front of Hu after expressing his fury with the Cultural Revolution for over 40 minutes.