The Lesson Plan

Looks like I’ll have to revise this list very soon. So while the world was going down in flames — the faculty was on fire, the Wall Street bailout failed, and so did John McCain’s campaign — I was able to find myself some quality time with some Asian movies I’ve been wanting to watch. They faced some stiff competition from some historical fiction books I’ve bought lately, but the DivX won out. Here’s a report of my time in the bubble.

From not so great to at a loss for words:

Donnie Yen goes all Soul Calibur in the end. Weird.

First up, An Empress and the Warriors. Now that is an awkward title, but just the least of all the absurdities. Set at the beginning of the Warring States Period (475 – 221BCE), our story takes place in the kingdom of Yan as they attempt to fend off their rival, the Zhao. The plot revolves around the ascension of the Yan king’s daughter, Yan Feier (Kelly Chen), to the throne after his untimely death. She is then trained in the military arts by the king’s vanguard, Muyong Xuehu (Donnie Yen), until she ends up lost in the woods after escaping an assassination attempt on her life. There she meets a mysterious doctor, Duan Lanquan (Leon Lai), who she eventually falls in love with and from whom she learns the beauty of the world and the value of peace.

Yeesh. This movie was just too all over the place. The costumes and set pieces were impressive and at times they reminded me of Jet Li’s Hero, but the acting was just way off for most of the film that they are an injustice to the visuals. Donnie Yen, who I regard nearly as high as Bruce Lee (and that would be higher than Jet Li), should stick to the modern Hong Kong crime noir he fits perfectly in. The princess was annoying, and so I wasn’t surprised to learn that Kelly Chen is a singer-actress — she was trying very, very hard. And the storytelling was too disjointed for me. The film starts strong but then splinters in midway as the characters get thrown in so many directions. Muyong is one-dimensional, and he wouldn’t have been if the film didn’t drop him off after forty minutes as it segued into a contrived love story in the forest. Halfway through, the movie felt like two in one — The Notebook and Braveheart. Braveheart was good, but I didn’t even bother with The Notebook.

I’ve never felt ripped off by a Torrent before. (No wonder there were hardly any seeds.)

Zhao Zilong rides off to the sunset. A fully armed sunset.

Three Kingdoms: Resurrection of the Dragon really had potential. Action was awesome. Production was pretty good. Story was serviceable. It had the three elements of a summer blockbuster movie, but it was exceedingly dry. Cold. One review used a good word — canned. For a character-driven film, I didn’t feel the character at all. This reminds me of Spider-man 3 where he was up against so much, but you didn’t care. Not because you knew he would remain in one piece — you just didn’t care.

And it’s a tragedy because Andy Lau, the lead who plays Zhao Zilong, really gave it his all. This is among the best performances I’ve seen from him, but then again he was too distant. Perhaps what did this film is was the uneven and relentless pace of it all. The film covers a whole thirty years of Zhao’s career from a neophyte to the greatest general of all, and yet we barely get any sense of how he was able to go from point A to point B. Just imagine having a Superman film that starts with him escaping Krypton, then the next scene is his debut in Metropolis. He’s still iconic and cool, but when he does all those good things he does, it fails to resonate because we didn’t get to meet the Kansas farm couple who taught him why to do good. That’s pretty much the case with Zhao Zilong here. He handles that spear pretty well, but we never get that sense of why. For a character piece, that’s pretty damning.

The next three films all vie for the top spot.

Beautiful, powerful, outstanding... but historically inaccurate.

Central Asia is beautiful.

The problem with me is that when a film is bad, there are so many ways to skin it. When a film is good, it’s the opposite. I run out of things to say. But I’m pretty clear where I stand with Mongol. It’s probably one of the best movies I’ve ever seen and it does for Genghis Khan what Batman Begins did with Batman — and I worship Chris Nolan’s vision. Ordinary viewers will get a sense of this film’s gravitas and epic proportions, but critics will see through all that and call out all the storytelling cheats this movie had to make. For instance, the last twenty minutes of the film could be expanded to at least an hour.

The road Temujin traveled to become Khan is arduous, but when it finally happens we get a first person narrative. Then there is that other matter with a plot device used in the final third of the film involving a monk and showing Temujin as a man of character — their plot gets resolved with a written epilogue in the end. I read somewhere that this movie is only the first of a trilogy. I still hope it happens. Perhaps then it can begin literally where this one ends, and follow that cinematic mantra, “Show, don’t tell.”

But my real beef with Mongol is something I just can’t turn off when watching a historical epic. The movie is just too historically inaccurate for a biopic of Genghis Khan. While we can argue that we scarcely have any sources, we at least go by what scholarship has considered to be the defining account, The Secret History of the Mongols. Apparently the Russian director, Sergei Bordov, had to go with other sources — allegedly copies of The Secret History translated in Russian — but this just doesn’t explain all the liberties he had to take. So as a forewarning to all friends, family and students I may see this with, shut me up early or I will ruin this film for you. I can just imagine how annoying it would be for someone to say “that didn’t really happen” while it just did on screen.

Then again I just slot this film under the banner of “historical fiction” and we’re good to go. But for all those looking for that defining moment in his youth when he dealt with his brother Bekter, look elsewhere… but I digress.

Karate has never looked this good on screen. Never.

Kuri Obi (Black Belt) falls in the category of “at a loss for words” but let me say a thing or two. I’ve fallen out of love with Japan over the past years. I started teaching Asian history with a deep interest in Japan but that faded as I branched out to South Asia and the Middle East. With regards to films, I’ve gotten deeper entrenched in the Hong Kong/China axis and never really got around to fancy Kurosawa, et al.

But this film just makes everything so current for me. Kuro Obi is a story about Karate. That’s it. The story couldn’t be any more simpler than two students under one master following their own separate paths, until they meet once again to discover who is truly deserving of their master’s black belt. Taikan, the elder and more senior, searched out for strong opponents so he could prove his mastery of the art. Giryu, the younger and more modest, went down a path he did not choose and is every bit characteristic of his kata — effortless and yielding to the fates. The film is so Japanese in its minimalism, yet it’s portions of action and fight choreography are generous enough to showcase Karate in a beauty I’ve never seen before.

Reviews call this “the thinking man’s martial arts movie.” Within it is a majesty I haven’t seen since Hero, and maybe not even since then.

Guan Yu's bad hair day.

Red Cliff is better than I have ever imagined. I realize that “better” doesn’t really betray how outstanding this film is, but it’s a word that keeps me from sounding like a screaming prepubescent fangirl.

Be clear that this is a big budget, blockbuster movie. This is not trying to win points for sophistry or sophistication but it actually can. This is a John Woo movie and I recall that he directed one of my favorite movies of all time: Face/Off. And with nothing but The Romance of Three Kingdoms to work with, this film is set up to be China’s The Lord of the Rings. Well, it already is — in two respects.

First, is that it is epic cannot be said enough. It just has to be seen. But second, it is just the first film in two, and thus a lot of the characters and plots have yet to be paid off. While there are a lot of characters to look out for and not all can even come close to Chow Yun Fat’s Li Mu Bai from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon — save perhaps for Tony Leung’s Zhou Yu — this film promises enough for us to wait for the second installment coming in January 2009.

I’ll pass my final judgment then but from what I’ve seen, this is shaping up to sit on top of my favorites list for a long time to come.