"Only connect... " was E.M. Forster's gentle instruction appearing on the opening page of his novel,
Howards End. Written about the challenges of human communication in early 20th century England, the directive resonates on into 21st century Shanghai, a ragingly pubescent city -- a city whose physical development outpaces the social and emotional maturity of its residents.
Shanghai Trance, Dutch Director David Verbeek's second feature film, examines the toll of Shanghai's breakneck industrial, commercial, and physical growth on the lives of the city's young residents, each trying to make sense of their volatile environment.
"When I set out to tell the narrative of Shanghai's youth, I found that there was no single paradigm to rely on, so I shot a film in three layers of love stories," says Verbeek. The romances of these three couples -- a DJ and club dancer, a shiftless dreamer and his school girl crush, and a business-woman and a laowei architect -- weave through the alleys and skyscrapers, nightclubs, and family homes of Shanghai but ultimately dead-end in a scowl of immaturity.
Shanghai Trance has no plot per se; the joining element and active agent of the film is the physicality of Shanghai itself. The most lasting impressions are the visuals of the city, and Verbeek's camera hones in on the contrasting images that symbolize and define Shanghai. Although an oft-explored theme in photography, "contrast" continues to be an effective figurative device, and in the case of Shanghai Trance, well executed. Jolting scene changes from a nightclub pounding with house music to a crumbling rooftop where drying underwear accessorizes the sun-soaked skyline force the recognition of radical disparities. A nighttime bird¡¯s eye view of Shanghai¡¯s maze of highways lingers almost torturously as the endless automobiles speed along like an autobahn of fluorescent ants.
In one touching scene, Jenny the night club dancer played by Xiao Han, appears at temple in one of her outrageously skimpy outfits. Intently engaged in prayer ritual that involves holding smoking incense above her head, and bowing as she turns counter clockwise, a monk interrupts to inform her she turns the "wrong way."

Despite this grim depiction of current day Shanghai and its residents, Verbeek insists the film is not entirely bleak: "I locate hope in the characters I'm portraying. For instance, young people in Shanghai are actually turning outward, looking for a bigger picture in way their parents' generation dismissed entirely." Although sharp existential loss at times translates into misguided materialist prayer for the youth of Shanghai, the willingness to hope for and believe in deeper meaning is the true current that rumbles amid Shanghai's skyscrapers.
Verbeek, who was educated at the New School in New York and received a master's from the Dutch Film and Television Academy in 2005, lived in Shanghai for more than two years observing the psycho-social impact of rapid change on minds and souls of the people in his age group.
With a promising trajectory ahead of him, Verbeek is already funded for his third film,
Level 3. Set in Taipai Level 3 examines the pro gaming scene and its effect on an individual who dives head first into a pixilated life as a way to avoid reality. "Then he witnesses a traffic accident in which a young woman dies, which shocks the gamer who becomes reawakened into his physical self, " says Verbeek.
Verbeek is something of a purist: "My films mimic the pace of life, I don't feel the need to bring plot-driven narrative or music to set a pace. I use film to compress the incomprehensible movements of life into a digestible size." And like the pace of life,
Shanghai Trance drifts and idles -- it makes no moves to distract with unnatural excitement, but creates pauses and lulls for the dreamer to rest his thoughtful gaze.
Shanghai Trance premiers on June 21 at the Shanghai Film Art Center, 150 Xinhua Lu, hall 3.