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Review
by LunaSea: |
"When
the Map is Unrolled, the Dagger is Revealed." This
is a famous figure of speech in China, which fits Chen Kaige's
latest epic drama perfectly both in story and meaning. It
means that only at the end we see people's real intentions
and their true nature. The film narrates the story of China's
First Emperor, King Ying Zheng (who would later become Qin
Shi Huang), who united the seven kingdoms in 221 B.C. to
end the bloody era of The Warring States.
The figure of Ying Zheng (Li
Xuejian) assumes gigantic proportions in this near-Shakespearean
tragedy. He's painted as a fair and just man at the beginning,
but he eventually submits to his thirst for power and the
dogma of his ancestral mandate. Thanks to an amazing performance
by the great Li Xuejian (Shanghai Triad, The Blue
Kite), we witness a man who changes drastically. Thanks
to pressure and paranoia, Ying Zheng betrays his initial
intentions - which were to unite all of China peacefully
and lead it to years of prosperity.
That's what he initially promises.
However, like most politicians, the promises become dead
air when he finally reaches his goals. One of Ying Zheng's
concubines and the love of his life, Lady Zhao (Gong Li),
functions as a counterpoint to the Emperor. A fictional
character, she's used by the director to give voice to the
masses. She represents people who want humanity to prevail
over bloodletting and power-thirsty dictators. These are
the people who weep over the senseless loss of life, and
want a peaceful solution instead.
The film is structured into
five acts which lay the groundwork for the final part in
which the reluctant assassin Jing Ke plots to kill Ying
Zheng. The intricate story might be difficult to follow
for someone who's not used to Chinese history, but the script
flows well and the characters are developed so effectively
that such apparent shortcomings don't really matter at the
end. Chen Kaige could have decided to focus on a history
lesson, but instead he's more interested in three central
characters (Ying Zheng, Lady Zhao and Jing Ke) and their
motives. He's able to create a psychological profile for
Ying Zheng, who at first seems in control, but ultimately
is the cause of his own undoing. His attempts to bring peace
and prosperity to his kin conflict with the danger of holding
too much power in one's hands. He can't handle the situation
and the consequences are terrible. And guess who pays the
price? The same people he was trying to "help".
Jing Ke (Chen regular Zhang Fengyi,
in another very good performance) is portrayed in a different
way as well. In the Records of the Historian (Shih
Chi or Shiji) he was a common man who helped
people and was well liked. In the film, he's presented as
a professional killer who encounters a life-changing crossroads.
His relationship with Lady Zhao (Gong Li) helps her realize
how the king's promises are just a hoax to hide his thirst
for power, which in turn shapes the final part of the film.
Lady Zhao's character ultimately
becomes the face of humanity. She's a woman who can control
herself except under tragic circumstances, and Gong Li's
performance underlines those traits. You could say Ying
Zheng's maniacal change of mind represents China's leaders
(they use political dogma to solve their problems at the
people's expense) and Lady Zhao is the people's hopes and
fears. She's the one who can change things but sadly it's
not up to her to shape history. The film centers around
the three main characters and decides to only hint or show
a glimpse of their struggles, for it's the central themes
that matter, and not the actual events. In showing the aftermath
and not the actual battles, Chen drives home his message
in a better way. Instead of being shocked by the onscreen
acts, we're left to reflect on the consequences, and to
attempt to learn from them.
For a film which boasts thousands
of extras, incredible sets, awe-inspiring landscapes, and
large scale battles, it's surprising that character development
and superior storytelling are what make the film succeed.
Everything looks authentic down to the tiniest detail, and
the cinematography and art direction amplify that. Simply
put, this is one of the most beautifully shot films of all
time. The battle sequences in The Emperor and the Assassin rival Ran and Kagemusha in scope and realism,
even if they're not the focus of the film. Furthermore,
Zhao Jiping's soundtrack and the superior acting (including
a supporting performance by Chen Kaige as Lu Buwei) help
make the film one of the most engrossing, captivating epic
dramas of recent memory.
What's surprising about the film is not its historical accuracy,
but the fact that something that happened more than 2200
years ago could be so relevant today. The old saying that
to predict the future you need to look back at the past
seems to be what Chen Kaige was trying to communicate. The
film seems to be more than an adaptation of a classic story;
there's also the feeling that what's happening onscreen
is meant to somehow mirror Modern China and its relations
towards countries like Taiwan. Ying Zheng's mandate from
his ancestors to unite all of the kingdoms reminds us of
the hope of reunification that we see today. However, the
way he works towards that goal brings back dark memories
most would rather forget. Those memories are of an event
everyone should be familiar with: Tiananmen Square. One
of the most powerful scenes in the film occurs when Lady
Zhao weeps over the dead bodies of her people. This scene,
more than any other, underscores the horrific feelings left
behind by the massacre.
Chen Kaige seems to be one of the
few directors of China's celebrated Fifth Wave who still
tries to make compelling films that also challenge the system.
The effect is subtle here, but there's clearly more to The
Emperor and the Assassin than a simple historical adventure
yarn. The film is not only a good history lesson, but also
a warning to not make the same mistakes the old rulers did
in the past. It seems likely that what Chen was aiming for
was a condemnation of China and its current policies towards
reunification. (LunaSea 2002) |
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