Chinese movie reviews

The Sorcerer and the White Snake (白蛇傳說之法海)

sorcerer and white snake

The Legend of the White Snake is a centuries old story that is varyingly about good and evil, religion and superstition, and plain old immortal love. It’s the stuff of movies, and there have been many (notably Tsui Hark’s 1993 Green Snake). This 2011 effects-laden martial arts adventure draws on all of these. In trying to appeal to everyone, however, it fails to truly satisfy anyone. Sorcerer lacks a consistent tone and wraps several films into one.

Parts of this sweeping whirlwind though stir up the emotions with an unsuspecting deftness. I didn’t expect a blockbuster with big box office dreams to turn on the feels, but at least one of the major plotlines resonates with the source material. At the heart of the story are Suzhen (Eva Huang), a beautiful white demon snake, and Xu Xian (Raymond Lam), a simple – and human – herbalist. They fall in love after she rescues him from a lake with a deep, almost otherworldly kiss of life. He thinks he’s dreamed the encounter until she reappears to him in human form.

It seems odd that such an enchanting creature would be so drawn to a humble medicine man and the story jerks forward a little too quickly. But Huang has an ethereal presence that wants to belong in an untarnished landscape like Hangzhou’s West Lake, where the story takes place. The setting evokes a distant fairy tale, and Suzhen desires Xu Xian’s love with such purity and earnestness that one feels the story can’t take place anywhere else.

Their romance is set against a bigger, noisier backdrop though, one literally clanging and crashing with gongs. Jet Li plays Fahai, a monk determined to rid the world of demons. He captures them in all their frightening female forms – and it is women who start all the trouble. Disguised as nymphs and enchantresses, they gently pluck their instruments while looking coyly askance or slink out of bamboo forests wearing bed sheets like some fantasy porn, only to reveal themselves as squawking bat demons. Luckily there is a man to catch these murderous creatures. Fahai eventually deposits them into a large stone medallion, a purgatory of sorts, where demons meditate on their evil ways until they sufficiently repent and are released.

Fahai operates according to strict moral absolutes, which makes him feared and effective but which also leaves him struggling to justify his entire belief system after something happens to gray the line. Li, with his stern demeanor and calculated movements, exudes physical and moral discipline. When Fahai is forced to confront his own fundamentalism, there is an honesty that complements Suzhen and Xu Xian’s devotion.

What doesn’t align as well is a subplot involving green snake Qingqing (Charlene Choi) and her playful attempts to win over Fahai’s acolyte, Neng Ren (Wen Zhang). Once again, Choi is cornered into her default role. Despite being an adult woman, she reverts to her Twins act of yore, flirting and giggling like she’s an eighteen-year-old child bride. It’s distracting and discordant and can only be a self-serving ploy to win a younger demographic. It does match some of the jaunty slapstick, like when Suzhen brings Xu Xian to meet her demon family, animals who transform rather poorly into humans (and Hong Kong all stars). But this goofy, New Year’s-esque tone is a confusing artistic choice that just seems out of place.

The film runs into more problems with its subpar effects. Sorcerer thinks it’s destined for great, international things. A martial arts fairy tale, especially one fronted by Jet Li, might appeal to audiences beyond Asia, but not when it’s propped up with cheap effects that don’t match the epic scale the movie is going for. The opening scene features a fierce fight in the snowy mountains between Fahai and a demon played by Vivian Hsu. The two look like paper cutouts flying across static backdrops in puppet show. A later battle with a bat demon involves such a flurry of CGI that it’s hard to tell what is going on. Focusing the effects on a few choice scenes might have tightened the story rather than spreading it so thin.

Hong Kong trailer:

International trailer:

“Promise” (許諾) by Eva Huang and Raymond Lam:

Released: 2011
Alt Title: It’s Love
Prod: Chui Bo-Chu 崔寶珠
Dir: Tony Ching 程小東
Action: Tony Ching 程小東; Wong Ming-Kin 黃銘健
Writer: Charcoal Tan 張炭; Tsang Kan-Cheung 曾謹昌; Szeto Cheuk-Hon 司徒卓漢
Cast: Jet Li 李連杰; Eva Huang 黃聖依; Raymond Lam 林峯; Charlene Choi 蔡卓妍; Wen Zhang 文章; Vivan Hsu 徐若瑄; Jiang Wu 姜武; Miriam Yeung 楊千嬅; Chapman To 杜汶澤; Lam Suet 林雪; Song Wenjia 宋汶嘉; Angela Tong 湯盈盈
Time: 120 min
Lang: Mandarin/Cantonese
Country: Mainland China
Reviewed: 2016

American Dreams in China (中国合伙人)

american dreams in china

America is where dreams go to die, at least this is what writers Zhou Zhiyong and Zhang Ji will have you believe. A country full of cheats and swindlers, it’s where hard work and talent just lands you a job as a bus boy. But in the 1980s, that didn’t matter; America was the place to be, especially if you were a college student in China. Eager young things flocked to the embassy in hopes of winning that golden ticket – a student visa.

The movie opens with three friends trying to secure that coveted stamp of approval. The timid Cheng (Huang Xiaoming) fails and Wang (Tong Dawei) forfeits his place so he can stay behind with his American girlfriend. Only Meng (Deng Chao) passes, and he bids a tearful farewell. It’s an unspoken truth that he will not return. His destiny is set; there is no failing in that land of opportunity.

But the movie is not Chinese Dreams in America, so there is a reckoning to be had. The friends’ desire to transplant themselves in the U.S. and reap the bounties of the American Dream merely sets the scene for Meng’s disappointing return and their eventual success as owners of a large tutorial center, in China. It’s an aspirational film to the core, but unlike recent entries from the Mainland, this one doesn’t depend on shiny baubles. The characters don’t sport designer clothes or cruise around in their S-Class. In fact, the costumes are hideously taupe and extra effort is made to obscure the stars’ good looks. The film instead tempts its audience with the belief that anyone with a dream and a bit of hard work can make it in China. Call it Horatio Alger with Chinese characteristics.

Loosely based on New Oriental, China’s largest “educational services” company, Cheng and Wang create their own learning institute and call it New Dream, which functions as an obvious motif and, intentionally or not, a nod to the “Chinese Dream.” After their failed bids to study in the States, the two characters are resigned to a life with little social standing or economic mobility. They do what they can to gain some respect and earn a buck but seem to always be treading water. A minor transgression forces Cheng to find new work, and he begins teaching English out of the nation’s first KFC (the irony!). Soon his classes grow so large that he has to set up shop at an abandoned factory, enlisting Wang in the process. To sweeten the rags to riches story, the building has no electricity or roof. If you’ve been to Beijing in the winter, you know that’s dedication.

That the venture succeeds beyond their wildest dreams, is a foregone conclusion. The film employs enough flashbacks and flashforwards, particularly in the first half, to give you a mild case of whiplash, and the device isn’t even necessary since the trajectory is pretty clear. Nevertheless, we see early on that the three musketeers go from poorly coiffed drudges to tutor rock stars, something that actually exists in Asia. Cheng makes the least subtle leap from one end to the other, and while Huang shows a few probing moments of despair, he doesn’t really justify his character’s shoutiness once he’s at the top. Tong and Deng, however, turn in more subtle performances with more difficult parts. Tong’s is more likable, but he’s careful not to make Wang into the film’s attention-grabbing comic relief. The emotional core seems to lie with Deng, who doesn’t so much barrel through his shattered hopes as he does pick up the pieces with quiet, unflinching focus.

If American Dreams had ended with a triumphant closing shot of the company’s stadium rally, it would be no better or worse than any other film about some small potatoes making it big. But in an obvious ploy to rouse the home team (the movie made a cool USD$86.5m at the box office), the filmmakers cap their project with New Dream being sued by American education officials for stealing test preparation materials. Depending on which side of the Pacific you’re standing, this could be a satisfying middle finger to the U.S., an acknowledgement that the American century has passed and that an ascendant, more culturally attuned China will no longer be bullied. Or it might be a somewhat dishonest dig at America’s lack of fair play without acknowledging China’s own dearth of equal opportunities.

Released: 2013
Prod: Peter Chan 陳可辛, Jojo Hui 許月珍
Dir: Peter Chan 陳可辛
Writer: Zhou Zhiyong 周智勇; Zhang Ji; Aubrey Lam 林愛華
Cast: Huang Xiaoming 黃曉明; Deng Chao 鄧超; Tong Dawei 佟大為; Du Juan 杜鵑; Daniel Berkey; Claire Quirk; Tong Lei 佟磊
Time: 112 min
Lang: Mandarin
Country: Mainland China
Reviewed: 2015

Confession of Pain (傷城)

confession of pain

Confession of Pain had the misfortune of arriving on the heels of the critically and commercially successful Infernal Affairs trilogy, released in the early 2000s, which recalibrated Hong Kong film standards for the new century. This film featured many of the same principals, including directors Andrew Lau and Alan Mak and writers Mak and Felix Chong as well as star Tony Leung Chiu-Wai. So it wouldn’t be overstating things to say that expectations were high, or that the result was a grand disappointment.

Granted, it’s hard to follow up on a hit series that went on to become an Oscar-winning adaptation directed by Martin Scorsese. Confession of Pain tries to one up the intense cat and mouse game that fueled the creators’ previous effort with another catch-me-if-you-can mystery. Unfortunately, it gets derailed by overambitious plotting. At its most basic, the film is a murder mystery. A wealthy man (Elliot Ngok) is bludgeoned to death along with his manservant (Vincent Wan). Inspector Lau (Leung) tries to solve the crime with the help of his ex-cop friend turned private investigator, Bong (Takeshi Kaneshiro), and bring some closure for the victim’s daughter, Susan (Xu Jinglei), also his wife.

If the murder is unspectacular, the unraveling of this mystery certainly is not. The killer is revealed about twenty minutes into the film, and that’s when things get a little fancy. Instead of the traditional whodunit, the story keeps its audience guessing about motive. In this way, it trends towards a character study. There’s enough stillness in the storytelling and camerawork to allow viewers space to pick apart the murderer and why he or she committed the crime.

At least this is the idea. It’s an intriguing and novel twist to the genre, especially for filmmakers on the vanguard of popular art cinema. The trouble is that absent a motive, it’s hard to give any meaning to the performances. Leung is cool and detached as Lau, effortlessly flinty as an officer who doesn’t blink twice when dispensing justice on a rapist. Leung the charmer is also on display though through tender gestures towards his wife. The actor holds his character’s duality in one consistent performance, allowing a strain of malevolence to underline everything. This shiftiness isn’t confined to a single person, and Susan’s coldness towards her father, embodied by Xu’s chilling stares, also points towards a dark path down which everyone seems to be heading. There are a lot of places to hide one’s secrets. Bong is eager to dig around, but as a recovering alcoholic who blames himself for a personal tragedy, he does little to liven the mood.

Their individual behavior begs explanation and fails to crescendo towards more concrete characterizations. But the plot is structured so that too many hints about the murderer’s intentions would bring things to a hasty conclusion, for the movie and the killer. So until the big reveal snaps quickly into place at the end, things shift into a prolonged limbo. Appearances by Chapman To and Shu Qi are supposed to help, somehow. To plays another investigating officer and brings what he usually brings to a piece – comic relief and bluster, but Shu does precious little as a chipper beer girl and is about as welcome as a squawky clarinet. Her role in particular clashes with the story’s darkness – the title translates to “Hurt City.” On this account at least, the filmmakers succeed; the internal struggles of the characters find little relief in the landscape, their images juxtaposed against long shots of Hong Kong at dawn or midnight when the city is at its loneliest and most abandoned.

Released: 2006
Prod: Andrew Lau 劉偉強; Cheung Hong-Tat 張康達
Dir: Andrew Lau 劉偉強; Alan Mak 麥兆輝
Writer: Felix Chong 莊文強; Alan Mak 麥兆輝
Cast: Tony Leung Chiu-Wai 梁朝偉; Takeshi Kaneshiro 金城武; Xu Jinglei 徐靜蕾; Shu Qi 舒淇; Chapman To 杜汶澤; Elliot Ngok 岳華; Vincent Wan 尹揚明; Emme Wong 黃伊汶; Wayne Lai 黎耀祥
Time: 110 min
Lang: Cantonese
Country: Hong Kong
Reviewed: 2015