One of the most fascinating industrial projects of the last fifty years or so is China’s effort to harness the great Yangtze River for hydroelectric power. The Three Gorges Dam at Sandouping, Yichang, Hubei, China is designed to deliver 22,500 megawatts of electricity when it comes fully online sometime in 2011. The concrete dam stretches a remarkable mile and half, with over 35 million yards of concrete and 450 thousand tons of steel put into it. Over 130 million yards of earth were moved during its construction, and the reservoir is expected to be filled sometime this year. The technical challenge of the project is astounding—but that’s not what Yung Chang’s documentary is about.

As with all great hydroelectric projects, the economic and political benefits are offset by human costs—displacements, destroyed communities, traditional employment losses, entire ways of life. In conjunction with the rest of the world, the U.S. has witnessed such trends in the U.S.; Lake Powell continues to be a point of debate and contention, and not so long ago the Tennessee Valley Authority projects spawned all manner of protests and ill will… and movies like Deliverance.

But the nature of the story that Chang’s documentary tells is quite different—specifically, the very human story of two Chinese teens, “Jerry” and “Cindy”, whose very image of life is drastically altered by the project. The teens were (individually) hired to work on a luxury cruise ship; not surprisingly, though, teens are assigned “Western” names by the cruise line’s operators.

For “Jerry,” the less interesting of the pair (and the son of a privileged Chinese family), the occupation appears to be little more than an adventurous whim. He doesn’t really need the income, and can always fall back on the family and the family business for a career and support. In some ways, “Jerry” exhibits the classic traits of the underachiever—and yet ironically finds himself in his ideal environment, where he can envision himself as a minor pop star and ingratiate himself with guests, quickly earning more in tips than anyone else on the boat. It’s an easy road for an easy-road kind of guy.

But he connects with none of his co-workers, consistently displaying a sense of disdain and superiority, ultimately winding up in Dutch with the tour line.

“Cindy,” however, comes from the opposite side of the tracks—and Chang really has a story to tell in this case. Shui Yu’s parents are squatters, subsistence farmers whose way of life is tied directly to the productivity of the land. They’re forced to relocate their river-bank squatter’s hut, knowing that eventually the encroaching reservoir will force them out completely. All the while, Chang’s camera documents the rising river.

It also documents the human cost of Shui Yu’s dilemma. She wants to go off to school—and her parents want her to, also. But to help the family out, she puts plans for education on hold and ventures into a wholly foreign world—both internationally speaking, and within her own country—to earn wages aboard the cruise ship. It’s reality programming at its most gritty; I can only wonder what the family thought of Chang tagging along with his movie camera.

The film includes some great political commentary, too. One person remarks that “as long as the cat can catch mice, it’s a good cat”—observing that the prevailing wisdom about the dam is one of pragmatics. It’ll deliver the energy the nation desperately needs, and reduce the country’s dependence on pollution-producing coal.

On the flip side, another man tells a modern parable about capitalists and socialists that winds up with the following punchline: “The capitalist turns right; the socialist turns right and says he’s turning left.”

It’s worth pointing out that America’s great infrastructure projects were also the outgrowth of social programs—designed to stimulate the economy, forestall domestic political unrest, get people working, and provide clean, safe sources of energy. The human cost of the actual construction wasn’t so much an issue; the death rate during the construction of Hoover Dam, for instance, is not one we’d tolerate today in America.

Personally, I grieve at the human cost of the Three Gorges; but I’m not one to conclude that China is somehow doing the wrong thing by trying to demonstrate that it’s strong enough to stop a river. If I were conclude that, I’d have to also conclude that the hubris and boosterism of America’s own projects were misguided—and they weren’t, I don’t think.

The film opens with a quote from Confucius: “By three methods we may learn wisdom: first, by reflection, which is noblest; second, by imitation, which is easiest; and third, by experience, which is the bitterest.”

But here’s another lesson in wisdom: because of human nature, the most lasting way of learning is through experience. China itself is simply going to have to make its own mistakes on the path to gaining wisdom.

There are multiple and interesting issues to think and talk about in connection with the Three Gorges Dam, and Chang daringly brings several of them to light; we can be grateful for that. Finally, though, the film is just a little too slack for my taste: it talks too little about the dam itself and fails to put the human drama in the proper global-historical context.

Up the Yangtze is unrated. I can’t recall anything objectionable here, though. It’ll be way too slow for most kids; an appropriate audience might be high school or older.

Courtesy of a local publicist, Greg attended a film festival screening of Up the Yangtze.