There are some films that despite being remarkable pieces on their own, never quite achieve the worldwide recognition they deserve, especially when it comes to foreign films being appreciated by English-speaking audiences. One such film is Dying to Survive (Mandarin: 我不是藥神), the incredible true-life dark comedy directed by Wen Muye, who takes on a story so daring and unbelievable, no work of fiction could ever pay tribute to it in such a way. This is a film that may not appear to amount to all that much at the outset – ultimately, it’s a likeable drama with many meaningful forays into comedy to help lessen the often very harsh tone, but it can come across as being somewhat derivative, if not severely limited in how it approaches a subject we’ve seen many times before. Yet, there is still something so special about Dying to Survive, a certain scrappy resilience, where Wen is battling against the difficulties that come with representing such a complex story in a way that isn’t alienating, while still trying to make something that differs itself from the many other similar works that look at events such as these, being realistic enough to not be implausible, but still differing to the point where we don’t feel like we’ve seen this story made countless times before. Wen certainly had his work cut out for him with Dying to Survive, and he delivered a searing social drama that feels entirely authentic, and thoroughly entertaining, to the point where the shortcomings are beyond insignificant.
The film is based on the story of true-life pharmaceutical rebel Lu Yong, who is here portrayed as Cheng Yong (Xu Zheng), a down-on-his-luck businessman who runs an unsuccessful store that peddles medicine that supposedly helps with inciting more passion into the relationships of his customers. However, he soon learns the aphrodisiac business is not going to bring him the fortune he desires, a realization that comes with the troubling discovery that his father has a form of leukaemia. The treatment is ridiculously expensive – the Chinese government openly refuses to make it affordable, and thus many people are needlessly dying due to being unable to acquire this life-saving medicine. He is approached by Lü (Eric Wang), a mysterious man who reveals that he has the same disease and considering Cheng’s line of work, he figures he might be the right person to help him – while treatment is very expensive in China, there is a drug in India that has been proven to be highly successful, but has unfortunately been outlawed by Chinese officials, who refuse to recognize the effectiveness of the drug, presumably to prevent their profits from falling with the introduction of this cheaper, more effective medicine. Cheng soon finds himself going from the pathetic merchant of love-potions to a notorious figure that helps those who desperately need it, and becomes a bit of an outlaw to the authorities, who frantically search for the person providing all these people with this untested, illegal drug that helps them, and at a fraction of the price. Cheng begins to build a small empire, but as he does, the paranoia begins to grow, with the realization that you never quite know who’s watching you at any given moment, and should he be caught, Cheng won’t only lose his freedom, but everyone who he helped will possibly lose their lives.
There’s a certain compassion pulsating through Dying to Survive, one that is present in other films that look at similar subject matter. Watching this film, you’re often reminded of Dallas Buyers Club, the biographical drama of Ron Woodroof, who smuggled drugs as a result of his own diagnosis with HIV/AIDS in the 1980s. These stories do bear some similarities, but they’re firmly rooted in reality, being based on true events, which is a harrowing concept, as the truth behind these incidents points towards something so extraordinarily troubling, which Wen captures perfectly in Dying to Survive. The real-world resonance of the film isn’t ever lost, and the director, along with the cast, seems to be extremely aware that they’re making something that isn’t only entertaining and informative, but also incredibly meaningful as well. While it isn’t particularly original (which isn’t really a criticism, as there wasn’t much space for much to be done with such a story), the soulfulness of the piece, as well as a clear understanding of the importance of a story well told, converge into a truly powerful film that feels so honest and open about difficult issues, delivering it with such sincerity, but not neglecting to find the joy in an otherwise disconcerting story. Dying to Survive is a profoundly human film, and Wen’s manner of exploring the many themes it covers, choosing to focus on both sides of the narrative, makes for truly compelling viewing, and a film that defies all cliches to be an incredibly harrowing, but also extremely uplifting, story of never losing hope.
The work that goes into this film, bringing the true story of Lu Yong to the screen is incredible, with the heart and humour being found throughout it being almost unprecedented, especially for a film with such grim subject matter. “Dying is easy, comedy is hard” is an adage that has never been quite as true as it is here. Going into this film without much prior knowledge, you’re instantly struck by a few pivotal qualities – there’s a certain wit that pervades it from the first moment, where the director manages to find the perfect balance between genres. Wen not only tackles the story with conviction, but he also proves himself to be a great visual stylist as well, composing a film right from the outset that feels increasingly different, without deviating too far from reality. The film is filled with dark humour, but the kind that doesn’t make light of serious matters, but rather infusing comedy into several moments that would otherwise be overwrought with melodrama in more serious films. Dying to Survive is a very touching film, but it’s also one made by a director who understands that humour can often be the most potent quality in delivering a meaningful story. He finds the balance, and some of the most moving parts of this film are those in which the fragility of life is made evident not through tragedy, but rather through endearing humour. The small interactions between individuals, or the most simple of expressions, sometimes tend to be what lingers the most, and while the burden of telling a true story was not something Wen didn’t acknowledge, the political and legal underpinnings of the story were not foregrounded in a way that disregarded the profoundly human core of the film. The compassion of Dying to Survive is the quality that sets this film apart, and proves that even a heartwrenching drama about incurable cancer can be funny without resorting to mockery or derision. That, more than anything else, is exactly why this is a very special film and one that dives right to the core of the issues it represents.
As a mainly character-driven piece, Dying to Survive mainly thrives on the performances, relying on the actors to bring this motley crew of eccentrics to life in a way that is both entertaining but also extremely believable. Xu Zheng leads the cast and gives one of the year’s most impressive leading performances. It isn’t anything out of Xu’s wheelhouse, and it is a role that should be based on the specifications, wouldn’t appear to need much – but below the surface, there’s a certain complexity that needed more than just charisma. Lu Yong is supposed to be the everyman in a group of oddballs, but also someone whose inner quandaries slowly drives him to the same desperation as those he is helping. Xu’s performance is just as compassionate as the film around him – never once played for laughs, nor for anything other than complete authenticity, he commands the film, being a remarkable lead, but also giving space to his fellow actors to have their own moments. This only highlights the supporting cast, which forms the heart of the film. Eric Wang is a particular standout, playing the catalyst for the main storyline, functioning as both the comedic relief (his overly-cautious, borderline obsessive character hides something much deeper in the performance), and the most heartbreaking aspect of the film, playing a man left with no choice but to resort to criminal activity just to stay alive. The same can be said for Zhang Yu, who plays “Yellow Hair”, the street-smart punk who is caught stealing from Lu, and forced to help him as a way of atoning for his crime and becoming one of his most important collaborators in the process. Zhang takes on the role with a sincerity rarely seen in this kind of street-punk performances, finding a fragility in an otherwise hardened character, and ending up the most tragic figure of the entire film. Dying to Survive is populated by so many memorable performances, many of which only have a few brief moments on screen, but still make an incredible impression, and contribute to the general brilliance underpinning the film.
What this film says, more than anything else, is that life is always worth fighting for. Dying to Survive is composed of a motley crew of characters all doing their best to, as the title suggests, live to see another day, regardless of the consequences. Wen has made something truly incredible with this film – it is never too shattering, despite the subject matter, and even finds itself featuring the qualities of a true crowdpleaser. Often absurdly funny, but also deeply profound, the film embodies the idea of laughter being the best medicine. It may sometimes fall victim to the trite conventions that tend to be persistent in these kinds of films – the film doesn’t try and be experimental, and thus has to rely on certain tropes to move forward – but it does so in a way that never feels manipulative or unnecessarily contrived. The film has a lot of heart and manages to avoid the temptation of being flippant, instead taking a more elegant approach to a story that deserved the utmost respect. This is a film that should not fade into obscurity, because the heartfulness it has is truly extraordinary, and coupled with the terrific performances and wonderful tendency to infuse humour into a very dour subject all makes for a truly captivating experience that shows us that life has its challenges, but they can all be overcome with the right mindset and the ability to never lose hope, no matter how difficult that may prove to be.
