偶開天眼覷紅塵，可憐身是眼中人

The couplet came from the last two lines of a poem by Wan Guo-Wei (王國維), a Qing Dynasty scholar. My translation:

"Through the lens of enlightenment I chance upon glimpses of humanity,

and realize with resignation that embedded within is my destiny."

Written a hundred years ago, it reflects the writer's fatalistic outlook. In present day, the couplet curiously describe the medium that we know as films. Indeed, when we watch a film, we are seeing the visions as framed and captured by the director through the camera lens. The director is employing the images to tell us a story and as we laugh and cry and sigh and rage as the narration progress, we become emotionally invested with the character(s) on screen. We feel for them as we internalize the destiny of the characters as our own.

Beside being a good metaphor, the couplet's spirit is being practiced by some directors as well. They point the cameras to peek a glimpse at humanity and, as audience, we are spellbound by the deeper messages beyond the sights and sounds. As intended by the director or otherwise, we engage in a virtual Q&A session with ourselves about the meaning of life, both within and without the context of the films. The only answer to that can only be that we are to find out by practice as we live our own lives.

Some of the directors that I adore, whose works evoke the philosophy of the couplet are:

Abbas Kiarostami (in particular, Close-Up), Imamura Shohei (in particular, The Pornographer), Theo Angelopoulos, Edward Yang, Krzysztof Kieslowski and Ichikawa Jun.

p.s. Wang Guo-Wei died of suicide when he was 51. Here is the full text of the poem, 浣溪沙:

山寺微茫背夕曛，鳥飛不到半山昏。上方孤磬定行雲。

試上高峰窺皓月，偶開天眼覷紅塵，可憐身是眼中人。