The Sixth Generation of Chinese filmmakers is a far looser, more all-encompassing label than the Fifth - pedantically speaking the term was intended to refer to graduates from the Beijing Film Academy but with prominent directors electing to [url=http://archive.sensesofcinema.com/contents/03/27/li_yang.html]play down the idea[/url] (Li Yang, [i]Blind Shaft[/i], [i]Blind Mountain[/i]) and a growing number of their peers working outside the system entirely, anyone using it carelessly risks seeming overly disingenuous.

In that sense, touting Chen Miao as the Sixth Generation's sole female director doesn't seem like a promising selling point. Besides downplaying the work of other women in the mainland studio system such as Ma Liwen ([i]You and Me[/i]) or Xiao Jiang ([i]Electric Shadows[/i]) it suggests there isn't much else about her cinema debut to focus on.

[i]Mi Ni[/i] is the story of the titular character as played by Angelica Lee ([i]The Eye[/i], [url=http://twitchfilm.net/site/view/re-cycle-review/][i]Re-Cycle[/i][/url]). She works as an aerial performer with the Shanghai Acrobatic Troupe, soaring over the stage hanging from long, trailing banners. Estranged from her parents, living with a surly, domineering aunt who's forever peering over her shoulder, Mi Ni feels she's living something of an empty life. When she meet-cutes laconic bad boy Kang (Liu Ye, [url=http://twitchfilm.net/site/view/city-of-life-and-death-review/][i]City of Life and Death[/i][/url], [url=http://twitchfilm.net/site/view/the-underdog-knight-review/][i]The Underdog Knight[/i][/url]), a roguish petty thief who passes the time working in a downtown music store, the chemistry between them suggests this might be her chance to find fulfilment - but (predictably) the course of true love doesn't run smoothly.

The main problems with [i]Mi Ni[/i] are on the one hand, Chen Miao and writer Zhao Chuan seem uncertain what they want the film to be, and on the other whatever they try to work into the screenplay has generally been done before, not to mention done better. The talent is obviously there, but nothing comes of it that sets the production above the competition.

Taken as dark melodrama it's too broadly written to have any real impact, and the ultimate direction the story takes feels too didactic. Both leads are more than capable of investing these characters with life and personality, but they still can't make their actions entirely believable.

Perhaps there was some difficulty in adapting the source material - author Wang Anyi also wrote the novel behind Sammi Cheng's ill-fated attempt to portray herself as a serious actress in [url=http://twitchfilm.net/site/view/tiff-report-everlasting-regret-review/][i]Everlasting Regret[/i][/url] - but Zhao Chuan seems to be trying for something grandiose, almost mythic, without ever giving the viewer the impression each plot point is anything more than something to be ticked off a list. Lee and Liu spark off each other earlier in the film to great effect but it's notable this is never really based on anything deeper than standard romantic gestures, and the later story arc - once Kang falls in with a clique of gangsters promising him easy money for minimal effort - smacks of dramatic convenience that barely feels even remotely plausible.

Even taken as social realism the film never seems to have any real sense of past history or place. There's none of the grand sweep of history in Zhang Jiarui's [i]The Road[/i], and as a story of the impact of modernisation on the Chinese urban landscape or an outsider's viewpoint in general there's nothing in [i]Mi Ni[/i] to match the marginalised characters of Zhang Yibai ([i]Spring Subway[/i], [i]Lost Indulgence[/i]). These people were metaphors and archetypes, but each film also gave them countless little gestures both spoken and unspoken that made them profoundly human. On top of this cinematographer Yang Tao ([i]Little Red Flowers[/i], [url=http://twitchfilm.net/site/view/tiff-report-the-sun-also-rises/][i]The Sun Also Rises[/i][/url]) doesn't come close to the warmth and sense of wonder he manages to give the city in Yibai's [i]The Longest Night in Shanghai[/i]. That film was a glossy pan-Asian co-production and an obvious commercial ploy yet it still managed more depth of feeling than [i]Mi Ni[/i], plus far more honest, lasting closure.

Perhaps most damaging is that ultimately [i]Mi Ni[/i] comes across as little more than grindingly average. It's rarely less than competent, but the score is unremarkable, the cinematography carries little weight (the camera never captures any truly striking images) and the editing is too often clumsy, even slapdash, with some poorly chosen cuts and flashback sequences which almost feel yanked out of another film entirely. Performances veer from those struggling to make something of an empty script to supporting roles like Hong Kong character actor Roy Cheung who seems largely out of his depth, drifting in and out of the narrative, lost and uncertain.

The only lasting impression [i]Mi Ni[/i] leaves (beyond feeling vaguely cheated by the ending) is how difficult it is to give it any sort of recommendation. Even for completists or fans of the stars, there are any number of films more deserving of attention (beyond those quoted in this review). Labelling it the debut of the Sixth Generation's 'only female director' is more damaging than a distinction, but even without raising viewers' expectations [i]Mi Ni[/i] does little to stand out.