A little long, but not at all bad. If you liked "Saving Private Ryan," you should like "Assembly." The director, Xiaogang Feng, has not only imitated Stephen Spielberg, he's transcended him.
First of all, a viewer is going to notice the exquisite pictorialism of the titles. They're really tasteful. And the arresting quality of the images -- the composition and color -- is carried through the film itself. A finely tuned visual pageant.
The story is a bit drawn out but so much of the material is unfamiliar to the West that it's acceptable. The protagonist is a soldier in the Chinese communist army, Hanyu Zhang. We're treated to battle scenes during the war with Chiang Kai-Shek's nationalists after World War II.
Hanyu is in charge of a detachment ordered to hold a position at a mine until he hears "Assembly" played on the headquarters bugle. Nobody hears the bugle call and all of Hanyu's troops die except him. He's wounded and dazed, wearing an enemy uniform, and no one at headquarters believes his story. Nevertheless, he becomes part of the Chinese army and is later half blinded during the Korean war, while in the process of saving another man's life. Three or four Americans show up on screen but they're not stereotypical villains. And when the Yanks are subject to a devastating bombardment, they're killed in extreme long shot.
Later, an old soldier now, unfit for duty, Hanyu spends his time trying to find evidence of the events at the mine in 1948. He's haunted by guilt.
Some Chinese movies have been working their way into the ken of Western movie goers over the last decade or so, pari passu with the nation's sidling its way into the global village. They're still Chincoms to the more retrograde among us, but if you want to buy Petro China you can do it on the Hong Kong market. And they're our chief foreign debtors. If we fail, they fail. Good reason to make movies about the unforgiving brutality of war and the misunderstandings that follow.
In the case of this film, that's part of the problem. Spielberg had bullets clanking off metal, terrible fighting conditions, and pointless blood-spilling. Feng has more exploding squibs -- exploding in the wrong direction -- than you can count. There's gore all over the place, along with body parts and men blown in half by explosions. It's far more graphic than "Saving Private Ryan" or "Blackhawk Down." Feng has also adopted the current directorial fad of cutting instantly during action scenes and wobbling the camera as if the photographer had imbibed too much ng ga pei. Some of the deaths are captured in slow motion. (Ho hum.) I think there's a structural problem too. I understand Hanyu loved his men and is ridden with chagrin over being responsible for their anonymous deaths, all being listed as MIA because their bodies were never recovered. And we're often reminded of it in one way or another. He and one of the soldiers' widow stand in front of the camera and there is a crane shot of a field of grave markers that seems to stretch on forever while mournful music plays on the sound track.
However, the girls are pretty, and I say keep 'em coming, China, and be as innovative and original as you were in the 20s and 30s. And ding hao!
First of all, a viewer is going to notice the exquisite pictorialism of the titles. They're really tasteful. And the arresting quality of the images -- the composition and color -- is carried through the film itself. A finely tuned visual pageant.
The story is a bit drawn out but so much of the material is unfamiliar to the West that it's acceptable. The protagonist is a soldier in the Chinese communist army, Hanyu Zhang. We're treated to battle scenes during the war with Chiang Kai-Shek's nationalists after World War II.
Hanyu is in charge of a detachment ordered to hold a position at a mine until he hears "Assembly" played on the headquarters bugle. Nobody hears the bugle call and all of Hanyu's troops die except him. He's wounded and dazed, wearing an enemy uniform, and no one at headquarters believes his story. Nevertheless, he becomes part of the Chinese army and is later half blinded during the Korean war, while in the process of saving another man's life. Three or four Americans show up on screen but they're not stereotypical villains. And when the Yanks are subject to a devastating bombardment, they're killed in extreme long shot.
Later, an old soldier now, unfit for duty, Hanyu spends his time trying to find evidence of the events at the mine in 1948. He's haunted by guilt.
Some Chinese movies have been working their way into the ken of Western movie goers over the last decade or so, pari passu with the nation's sidling its way into the global village. They're still Chincoms to the more retrograde among us, but if you want to buy Petro China you can do it on the Hong Kong market. And they're our chief foreign debtors. If we fail, they fail. Good reason to make movies about the unforgiving brutality of war and the misunderstandings that follow.
In the case of this film, that's part of the problem. Spielberg had bullets clanking off metal, terrible fighting conditions, and pointless blood-spilling. Feng has more exploding squibs -- exploding in the wrong direction -- than you can count. There's gore all over the place, along with body parts and men blown in half by explosions. It's far more graphic than "Saving Private Ryan" or "Blackhawk Down." Feng has also adopted the current directorial fad of cutting instantly during action scenes and wobbling the camera as if the photographer had imbibed too much ng ga pei. Some of the deaths are captured in slow motion. (Ho hum.) I think there's a structural problem too. I understand Hanyu loved his men and is ridden with chagrin over being responsible for their anonymous deaths, all being listed as MIA because their bodies were never recovered. And we're often reminded of it in one way or another. He and one of the soldiers' widow stand in front of the camera and there is a crane shot of a field of grave markers that seems to stretch on forever while mournful music plays on the sound track.
However, the girls are pretty, and I say keep 'em coming, China, and be as innovative and original as you were in the 20s and 30s. And ding hao!