A bit too bright for its own good

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　　The Flowers of War is not the first Chinese movie to tackle the painful subject matter of the Nanjing Massacre¹, and it won't be the last.

　　For many Chinese writers and artists, the tragedy that took place 74 years ago is the litmus test for their art and consciences.

　　Coincidentally, Chinese-American writer Ha Jin came out with his rendition of the events in the dark December days of 1937.

　　Like Ha Jin's novel, Nanjing Requiem², Zhang Yimou's new film is based on a few details in Wilhelmina "Minnie" Vautrin's diary.

　　Vautrin was an American missionary³, who saved the lives of many Chinese women at Ginling Girls College in Nanjing, then spelled "Nanking" and the capital city of China. An entry in her diary mentioned a group of prostitutes took the place of female students in attending a "party" thrown by the occupying Japanese soldiers.

　　Anyone with a modicum⁵ of dramatic sense would see the potential in this fact for a full-blown dramatization.

　　As a matter of fact, a film of a similar story was made in 1988. Sanctuary⁶ was co-directed by none other than Han Sanping, currently the boss of China Film Group and, by extension, the reigning⁷ godfather of Chinese cinema.

　　Zhang Yimou's version, which opens nationwide today, is naturally bigger and more lavish⁸.

　　It features Oscar winner Christian⁹ Bale in the lead. Bale plays an American mortician, whose talent for touching¹⁰ up dead bodies found an unexpected use later in the film.

　　John Miller¹¹ is a fictional¹² character, nothing like the Westerners who were heroes in the massacre, also known as the "Rape¹³ of Nanking" in the West. He is almost a caricature of typical movie roles assigned to opportunistic Americans - greedy and licentious¹⁴ in a playful way.

　　Obviously designed for the Western market, the role of an American "jerk", so-called by the church boy who sought his help, is to provide an angle into the chain of events that is accessible for a worldwide audience.

　　However, that poses a big challenge when Miller turns into a reluctant hero - a maneuver¹⁵ that is bravely handled by Bale with his star power but is still less than convincing.

　　Likewise, the band of courtesans is treated with broad strokes that leave little room for nuance¹⁶.

　　They descend¹⁷ on the Winchester Cathedral in their full florid garb¹⁸ and selfish frivolity¹⁹ - as if they were totally oblivious²⁰ to the rampages of war engulfing²¹ them.

　　Even Yu Mo, the most intelligent of the bunch, displays a haughtiness²² that beauty alone would not endow in the circumstances as much as a self-delusion about the harrowing nature of war.

　　The cast is divided into four major camps: the Chinese soldiers, the Japanese soldiers, the courtesans and the schoolgirls.

　　Except for one or two "representatives" from each group, the minor²³ characters are rarely given unique portrayals²⁵, so they blur²⁶ into the background like wallflowers. This seems to be consistent with the melodramatic style employed by the filmmaker: Everything is heightened - not for authenticity²⁸ but for a better yarn²⁹.

　　Although all Chinese troops die in the film, the accuracy and the scale of damage they are able to inflict³⁰ on the invading Japanese is so amazing that it can only happen in a feel-good adventure flick³¹.

　　That takes away much of the pathos³² almost innately³³ built in the story.

　　One is constantly waiting for a superhero to vanquish³⁴ all the bad guys and reverse the historical chapter that lingers so achingly in the Chinese national psyche³⁵.

　　Zhang Yimou simply cannot contain his flourish for sprightly³⁶ colors.

　　In the scene where the last Chinese soldier dies in an explosion, the store across the street from the cathedral where he has been in hiding happens to be one that sold colored paper.

　　That provides an excuse for a firecracker-like effect for the final blowup, which looks splendid on screen but reminds me of the Beijing Olympics rather than wartime horrors.

　　Still, this soldier, played by Tong Dawei, comes across more believable than he would have been if he had picked a fight with Bale's character.

　　Their confrontation³⁷ is brief, and Tong shows much restraint in entrusting³⁸ a very youthful fellow soldier to the courtesans.

　　The soldiers' sacrifice is directly linked to the fate of the schoolgirls, yet receives just the right amount of screen emphasis.

　　On the other hand, the courtesans' sacrifice, just like their initial selfishness, is played up to a tee so that it borders on melodramatic overkill. There is a lot of contrast for the sake of contrast, with the humanity of the courtesans glinting from only a few scenes.

　　Not all flourishes are over the top, though. The dream sequence where they sing their brothel song in a showgirl-style lineup is unexpectedly powerful as an emotional climax³⁹.

　　The glamorous⁴⁰ role of Yu Mo, played by newcomer Ni Ni, has received the strange combination of underexposure and over-hype - that is, by keeping her public appearances to the minimum yet leaking praise of her so-called breakthrough performance.

　　While it is an auspicious⁴¹ debut⁴², it hardly measures up to what Tang Wei achieved in Lust⁴³, Caution, which is what the publicity⁴⁴ machine has been touting⁴⁵.

　　Glamour⁴⁶ conceals⁴⁷ the lack of depth here.

　　If a scene requires only one emotion, she is quite competent. Also, crisp as her reading of English lines is, she seems foreign to the art of the pause.

　　Speaking of foreign language, the film has at least half of the dialogues in English. The use of modern terms like "whatever" as an American teenage colloquialism⁴⁸ or "makeover" in the subtitles⁴⁹ can be distracting to discerning native speakers.

　　Don't get me wrong. My nitpicking does not push me to the conclusion that The Flowers of War is not a good film.

　　It is quite good and worth a trip to your local movie theater.

　　It just fails to attain⁵⁰ the greatness this filmmaker and this subject deserve. It is not a masterpiece, such as on a par⁴ with Schindler's List by Steven Spielberg or The Pianist by Roman Polanski.

　　For my taste, it is not as agonizing⁵¹ or soul-searching as Lu Chuan's City of Life and Death - even though both share quite a few character types like the whore with a heart of gold and the unwilling⁵² collaborator⁵³.

　　For a subject of such emotional intensity⁵⁴, The Flowers of War is strangely deficient⁵⁵ in emotional impact. It was more calculated than inspired.

　　Many of the above-mentioned flaws could have been forgivable if the movie had more spontaneity and did not flirt⁵⁶ with bathos.

　　However, melodrama²⁷ is popular with a wide swathe of the populace, people who are cushioned by a daily dose of television series and, therefore, may well embrace such treatment.

　　Overall, Zhang Yimou's master craftsmanship⁵⁷ is on full display here.

　　The story is tightly knit, and 141 minutes do not feel long at all. What everyone can expect is the visual splendor⁵⁸ that Zhang serves so abundantly in almost every one of his oeuvres.

　　Whether this adds to the gritty portrayal²⁴ of the brutality⁵⁹ of war or curtails⁶⁰ the power of narration⁶¹ is another matter.

　　However, there are places Zhang's virtuosity⁶² is tampered⁶³ by some clumsy strokes.

　　A team of Chinese soldiers is depicted⁶⁴ as falling one by one so that the last one can get close enough to the enemy tank to blow it up. This amazing act of ultimate heroism⁶⁵ is preceded by a voiceover explaining why they choose to do so - an intrusive⁶⁶ voiceover rather than a natural dialogue among soldiers for exposition. Is it the result of underestimating audience intelligence or over-reliance on a bag of old tricks?

　　In the end, one has to ask: Does this movie shed new light on humanity and make you a better person? I'm sure many people will say yes.

　　Unfortunately I'm not one of them. I think Zhang Yimou could have done better.

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