• Issue
  • Mar 04, 2021

Mind's Eye

“Madness fascinates because it is knowledge,” observes Michel Foucault in Madness and Civilization: A History of Insanity in the Age of Reason (1961). In his taxonomy of European sociocultural, juridical, and medical attitudes to lunacy, Foucault posits that the madman in late-15th- and 16th-century art and literature is an ambiguous figure, encompassing “menace and mockery, the dizzying unreason of the world, and the feeble ridicule of men.” It was after the Enlightenment that an unequivocal demarcation of Reason and Unreason took root, along with the mass institutionalization of the mad and other undesirables. The objective reality of the sane needed protection from the disruptions of the insane.

These lines are not so clear for Beijing-based filmmaker Wang Tuo. “I think reality is actually quite chaotic,” he told me in January, in the midst of filming his next two projects in Changchun. “I try to set up parallel structures of reality,” he said of his films, which over the past few years have probed various troubled psyches as analogies for deeper wounds in the collective unconscious, from the pressures of conforming to the “perfect” American family to the lasting trauma of China’s Cultural Revolution. In Wang’s art, private anguish has the ring of a cosmic drama, unfurled through nonlinear narratives and rapid stylistic shifts that beget hallucinatory, world-expanding disjunctures.