I've spent several nights this week making my way through the four disc Criterion issue of
The Last Emperor, and it's worth every second and every dollar ($55+ retail, $41 if you'd
pre-ordered as I did). It not only holds up but actually exceeds my expectations. It is not unlike
the Forbidden City itself, opulent and overwhelming in scope but filled with glorious ornate doors that take us into serene little gardens and tiny jeweled golden cubicles.
I wondered if it would still feel as mannered and stilted as it sometimes did when I first saw it two decades ago. It often does, but that is also appropriate for Pu
Yi's surreal, stilted world. It's not as odd of a vibe as, say,
Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence, but both have a score and acting by
Ryuichi Sakamoto which is always a good thing.
John Lone is as appealing to me as he was in 1987, and it's a crime that he was not afforded more roles in films of equal quality. Many people praise Joan Chen, who is superb in her evolution from a teen bride to a drug addled, spitting shell of herself at the end. However, I am still drawn more by Maggie Han's portrayal of Eastern Jewel that borders or camp but is my favorite bisexual double crossing female pilot of all time.
("I'm a spy, and I don't care who knows!)In the commentary,
Bertolucci addresses Pu
Yi's not so
ambiguous sexuality that is at least hinted at in scenes such as the sheet play with the eunuchs. Ultimately it is not so much a David Lean epic as it is an
Ozu domestic theatrical drama, finding grace in the path towards nothingness. The sense of dread and isolation that runs throughout still resonate with me on a deeply personal level, especially the sense of privilege and adoration bein
g a form of prison.
The film came out at a pivotal time in my life, when I was just beginning my career in international work, when I purchased my first house, when I was beginning what would be the most long-term romantic relationship of my life which was intertwined with Asia. Perhaps it's fitting that the film is being re-issued 20 years since it swept the Oscars (a hollow ceremony that usually honors sewage such as
Titanic and
Forest Gump), at the Centennial of Pu
Yi's ascendancy to the thrown and in the Year of the Rat, the point in the zodiac when he was removed and became a figure head.
In the meantime, I will keep praying that one day there will be an objective, non-racist portrayal of the much maligned
Dowager Empress Cixi, one of the most fascinating women to rise to power in modern history.
Labels: China, Criterion Collection, DVDs, movies
This week I've been tempted to re-enact famed scenes from Reservoir Dogs, Lust for Life and Nove Cento. Okay, I'd forgotten that ear cutting scene in Novecento until buying it over the weekend and have yet to get past hour three or four. How many more to go. Some time I will get the energy to watch it sandwiched in between The Leopard and The Best of Youth. Better yet, once I get past this tax season I'll just spend a season in Umbria and learn about all that history first hand. I'm overdue to spend some time with an Italian peasant with a jug of wine and Ecuadorean cheese in a hay loft. Preferably on on top of an alpaca blanket.
