Zhang Yimou’s greatest disappointment yet?

What was supposed to be the high mark of US-Chinese film co-operation has ended with mild success, and that’s putting it kindly. The Hollywood Reporter suggested that the film is about to lose $75 million, suggesting that it’s not an entire box-office success.

Let me first start by praising Zhang for accomplishing what he is renowned for. The scenes leading up to battle were artistically shot, allowing us to get a sense of grandeur that was the Great Wall and the Song empire. Aerial shots allowed the viewer to gain an appreciation of the magnitude that was the Great Wall, while Zhang’s use of colored units (which ironically reminds me of the later Eight Banner System in Qing China (1643 – 1911) rather than Song China) gives the battle scenes much more vibrancy. In terms of sounds, the use of rhythmic drum beats adds to the tensions leading up to the battle scenes. Zhang thus artfully choreographs these pre-battle preparation scenes, something that he’s well-known for as the leading director of China’s fifth generation of filmmakers (for his better works, see his 2008 Summer Olympics production or his classic Hero (2000).)

The main criticism surrounding the film was the casting of Matt Damon as the “lead” role, that led many to suggest that there was a white-washing of Chinese history. While I can empathize with those that hold this view, I do not fully agree. Still, I can sympathize with that view, for as Matt Damon’s character and female had worked together to defeat the monsters that swarmed the palace, the impression that one gets at the end of the film is that Damon manages to walk away as a “hero” that saved the Song establishment. Damon, for one, plays a European trader here to seek gunpowder – my bigger question is what the European-Chinese trade situation looked like at the time the movie was set in; I suspect no European trader would have been allowed this far into Chinese lands to search for gunpowder.

Thus, where my problem with Zhang’s film would be its ahistorical nature. To put it more crudely, the true controversy surrounding Zhang’s movie is the sheer bastardization of Chinese history. Sure, Zhang pays homage to the age of Chinese innovation. His version of the Song dynasty features significant amounts of scientific progress and age of innovation that I’m sure the Song dynasty would be proud to be remembered by – it’s in this light that barely allows me to “accept” the Song Dynasty’s version of the hot-air balloon, and the trebuchet. But an in-wall firing machine? That’s stretching it, and that’s putting it kindly. As far as I know, there are historical reports to suggest that the Song Dynasty had not strictly kept up in maintaining the wall –  to even portray it as a technological wonder of its time as Zhang seems to do in his movie is simply ahistorical and unacceptable.

On the societal front, its ahistorical nature is also evident. I don’t think I’d be wrong in pointing out that the Confucian nature of Song society then would be affronted by the portrayal of women in key military roles, much less have an entire battalion of women special fighters. The design of the palace also seems to be way too bright and golden than what a standard palace of the ages would have looked like. To me, that’s almost making a mockery of Chinese society itself by playing into the hands of the Orientalists – this mysterious society that exists in some faraway land…

I’ve asked around, and in no respectable circle of friends and experts that I know, have I heard such a “legend” surrounding the Great Wall. Fundamentally, the Great Wall was built during the Qin dynasty by the first emperor of China. Much blood and sweat was used in its construction in arduous conditions, with the aim of keeping out invaders from the North. Zhang isn’t wrong in saying that the film is not about the construction of the Great Wall. Yet, in the film, the Great Wall was to keep out mythical dragon features that grow smarter. I’m not sure if this was a greater insult to the collective Chinese memory of the “atrocities” committed by Qinshihuang in its construction, or to the Mongolians/Manchurians who are supposed to be seen as “dragons”.

Even if this was supposed to be a Chinese-Hollywood collaboration, was there really a need to portray Chinese society in the way that Zhang did? Already, it seems that American society only laps up kung-fu films. Zhang may have wanted make sure that this film was a success in the cinemas, but at what cost? It seems, according to this writer, at the cost of being a messenger of Chinese history.

Train to Busan – A National Film

The “Train to Busan” was a blockbuster success, with close to 10 million teenagers viewing it in the cinemas. For what it’s worth, it’s also a very good reflection of some values that are key to Korean society. And you expect it to be so, as it was an out-of-competition screening at the Cannes Film Festival. I aim to try to understand the film as an expression of “national” values, as the director himself had attempted to Koreanize the zombie concept itself.

“It is a genre very familiar in the West but not so much in Korea. I wondered how it would turn out if I brought the zombie concept and made it in a Korean style,” said director Yeon Sang-ho of “Train to Busan” during a press conference held Tuesday in Seoul.

Taken from: http://www.koreatimes.co.kr/www/news/culture/2016/06/141_207648.html

SPOILER ALERT. For those who have not watched the movie, the post below contains information about the movie that may ruin your experience. Continue reading Train to Busan – A National Film