"Empire of the Sun" is a hallmark in Spielberg's career. The film is the story of an 11 year old boy who is separated from his wealthy parents with whom he is living in Shanghai at the outbreak of WWII... when Japan invades China.
Spielberg's camera is detached... we see what happens to the boy during his three year Odyssey into prison camps, betrayals, deep friendship, deprivations and insanity, but while Spielberg shows us all the physical details, he gives us no emotion: we are left to put ourselves in the characters' situation and interpret for ourselves how these people are feeling - or not feeling. The subtleties of expression are underplayed and add to the underlying tension of the film.
The cinematography is stunning - sweeping landscapes and crisp interiors. It seems that the entire film was show with a very small aperture - every detail is sharp and clean. This adds to the surreal elements of the film - stumbling through a rice paddy in the midst of a seemingly endless plain when, suddenly, brightly colored parachutes fall from the sky in the background.
The interiors of the prison camp - a bombed out train station which the prisoners have transformed (by slave labor) into a Kamakazi airfield, dirty, dusty, aird - the interiors teem with uncountable small items, screens patched with photographs, eating utensils, sunglasses and military gear... the accoutrement of deprivation and despair. By contrast, a stadium overflows with crystal chandeliers, deco statues, French furniture and a white grand piano... spoils of war.
The film is ultimately an haunting depiction of a young boy's courage and suffering in the face of the chaos and splendor of war - a film made by a director at the point of coming fully into his genius.
Highly recommended.
Spielberg's camera is detached... we see what happens to the boy during his three year Odyssey into prison camps, betrayals, deep friendship, deprivations and insanity, but while Spielberg shows us all the physical details, he gives us no emotion: we are left to put ourselves in the characters' situation and interpret for ourselves how these people are feeling - or not feeling. The subtleties of expression are underplayed and add to the underlying tension of the film.
The cinematography is stunning - sweeping landscapes and crisp interiors. It seems that the entire film was show with a very small aperture - every detail is sharp and clean. This adds to the surreal elements of the film - stumbling through a rice paddy in the midst of a seemingly endless plain when, suddenly, brightly colored parachutes fall from the sky in the background.
The interiors of the prison camp - a bombed out train station which the prisoners have transformed (by slave labor) into a Kamakazi airfield, dirty, dusty, aird - the interiors teem with uncountable small items, screens patched with photographs, eating utensils, sunglasses and military gear... the accoutrement of deprivation and despair. By contrast, a stadium overflows with crystal chandeliers, deco statues, French furniture and a white grand piano... spoils of war.
The film is ultimately an haunting depiction of a young boy's courage and suffering in the face of the chaos and splendor of war - a film made by a director at the point of coming fully into his genius.
Highly recommended.