The new film “Riding Alone for Thousands of Miles” finds the magnificent Chinese director Zhang Yimou eschewing the martial arts and artistic grandeur of his last two pictures “Hero” and “House of Flying Dagger” and returning to the stripped-down social intimacy of “The Road Home” and “Not One Less.” Like those two, it is a simple, confidently made foray into culture and community resonating far beyond its minimal storyline to become something timeless and beautiful.

Gouichi Takata’s (Ken Takakura) son Kenichi (Kiichi Nakai) son is dying. Lying in a hospital bed in Tokyo, unsure of how long he has left to live, he still refuses to see his estranged father. Something happened between, something that’s made the son not wish to see, let alone speak, to the father and this growing chasm haunts the older man in ways he can hardly put into words.

After watching a videotape of Kenichi’s travels abroad, Takata learns his son has been studying a form of Chinese folk drama dating back more than a thousand years. The previous year, he had traveled deep into the heart of the Yunnan Province in Southern China to see the famous actor Li Jiamin perform. Unfortunately, the actor was too ill to sing at the time, promising to perform the legendary song Riding Alone for Thousands of Miles upon Kenichi’s return.

But the scholar can’t return, and knowing this research is near and dear to his son’s heart Takata takes it upon himself to head into China and search out Jiamin so he can record the singer’s performance. But there are obstacles standing in the father’s way he never anticipated, the landscape, an eager yet hapless translator, clueless prison wardens and even a small boy all throwing curveballs at every step. But Takata is undeterred. He’s going to film Riding Alone for a Thousand Miles no matter what calamities befall him, this quest the last loving gesture a father can make for a dying son who wants nothing to do with him.

For such a depressing sounding synopsis, Yimou’s movie is astonishingly uplifting. More so, it’s surprisingly funny, the director sprinkling in bits of warmhearted humor throughout giving spirited effervescence to the dour emotional tones lingering underneath. That doesn’t mean the film doesn’t have its emotionally devastating moments. The gifted auteur intricately weaves an intoxicating web of light and dark, hope and despair, all of it moving to the universal rhythms of filial responsibility and regret going far beyond any cultural divides.

It goes without saying this is a slight effort for the filmmaker, but just because that is the case doesn’t make watching it any less spellbinding. Yimou and cinematographer Zhao Xiaoding, whose canvass on “House of Flying Daggers” was 180-degrees different, work wonders together, the quiet painterly intimacy inherent in the inland landscape and locations brought to tangibly affecting life. The film looks extraordinary, the duo coming up with scenes that are almost Bergman-esque in their visual potency.

Veteran Takakura is outstanding, holding things together with an unwavering portrayal that’s as hypnotic as it is subtle. Considered the Japanese Clint Eastwood, this star of countless Asian and Hollywood productions gives a beautifully understated performance showcasing all of Takata’s inner demons and regrets. He’s wonderful, the entire movies rising and falling with each and every one of his tiredly penitent breaths.

Is this Yimou at his best? No, of course not. Does that make “Riding Alone for Thousands of Miles” any less dynamic or invigorating? Not in the least bit. This is as splendidly entertaining and moving motion picture, illuminating the heart and mind like few other features this year. Put simply, this one is wondrous and fans of international cinema would be fools for missing it.