I'm always amazed to consider how much culture and worldview the Chinese have stored in them and how little of it has been tapped yet. Compare with American films, how many we get on our screens all across the world and what trivial philosophy supports them. The Chinese are still in a process of committing their vast narrative to first images.
So with these two films, it seems at this point that getting down the chronicle in a simple way and make it boisterous entertainment was enough. We get history that flattens and oversimplifies, good lords against cruel despot, freedom against oppression, and swathes of conflict without nuance. We get a lot of chintz and scale. The first movie was without worth, but they tap into something else with this second one.
Most of it is taken up by the machinations of the two rival sides for control over the narrative; ways to tip on their side the fateful battle before it begins the next day across the Yangtze. Some of it simple, rafts with infected bodies sailed into the opposite side. A spy manipulated to spread a false story. It's the main stratagem however that elevates it to something more, gathering up a different view than just opera.
The stratagem is that the direction of the wind on the fateful night when navies meet is going to be crucial, wind having the power to decide the course of empire depending on which way it blows, north or south. The Way of Heaven (as Chinese viewers will know it) central in how fates dispense worldly order.
This is what's being set up in an earlier sequence where one of the protagonists (who we have registered before as a kind of Confucian adviser to a lord) is able to stage and manipulate illusion (the barges with straw soldiers to gather up arrows) by having the knowledge of observing the structures of Nature - warm morning wind after a cold night means a fog that day.
And yet it still could have gone either way that night, the balance as fickle as a candleflame in the wind. It's the loving wife who has changed sides hoping to avert the war who tips the balance that night; seducing the tyrant with a tea ceremony that is just buying her husband time, another staged illusion that comes from knowing how to observe the weather of Man, fickle desire tricked by beauty.
The ensuing battle is a rip-roaring wind that blows north and rolls up an entire landscape of boats, men, and fortifications. This is the part with the spectacle most viewers will want to see.
I'd rather keep with me all the other stuff and how it suggests a vantage point rooted beyond appearances. They come from the far center of Chinese soul. Spontaneous nature carrying the way (the Chinese character for "heaven" also invokes "nature", "sky" and "spontaneous"). Letting yourself bend to the way of the wind, timing the pull. Weather in and out. I can imagine it coming from the hands of a tea master like Wong Kar Wai, who can make the camera bend to the way of things, permitting us to take our own place within them; love, regret, memory. Woo just forces things in his way like a warlord. The scene where the spy woman (the most spirited being here) returns from the enemy camp and she lets the fabric with the map unfold from her body - that's Kar Wai.
So with these two films, it seems at this point that getting down the chronicle in a simple way and make it boisterous entertainment was enough. We get history that flattens and oversimplifies, good lords against cruel despot, freedom against oppression, and swathes of conflict without nuance. We get a lot of chintz and scale. The first movie was without worth, but they tap into something else with this second one.
Most of it is taken up by the machinations of the two rival sides for control over the narrative; ways to tip on their side the fateful battle before it begins the next day across the Yangtze. Some of it simple, rafts with infected bodies sailed into the opposite side. A spy manipulated to spread a false story. It's the main stratagem however that elevates it to something more, gathering up a different view than just opera.
The stratagem is that the direction of the wind on the fateful night when navies meet is going to be crucial, wind having the power to decide the course of empire depending on which way it blows, north or south. The Way of Heaven (as Chinese viewers will know it) central in how fates dispense worldly order.
This is what's being set up in an earlier sequence where one of the protagonists (who we have registered before as a kind of Confucian adviser to a lord) is able to stage and manipulate illusion (the barges with straw soldiers to gather up arrows) by having the knowledge of observing the structures of Nature - warm morning wind after a cold night means a fog that day.
And yet it still could have gone either way that night, the balance as fickle as a candleflame in the wind. It's the loving wife who has changed sides hoping to avert the war who tips the balance that night; seducing the tyrant with a tea ceremony that is just buying her husband time, another staged illusion that comes from knowing how to observe the weather of Man, fickle desire tricked by beauty.
The ensuing battle is a rip-roaring wind that blows north and rolls up an entire landscape of boats, men, and fortifications. This is the part with the spectacle most viewers will want to see.
I'd rather keep with me all the other stuff and how it suggests a vantage point rooted beyond appearances. They come from the far center of Chinese soul. Spontaneous nature carrying the way (the Chinese character for "heaven" also invokes "nature", "sky" and "spontaneous"). Letting yourself bend to the way of the wind, timing the pull. Weather in and out. I can imagine it coming from the hands of a tea master like Wong Kar Wai, who can make the camera bend to the way of things, permitting us to take our own place within them; love, regret, memory. Woo just forces things in his way like a warlord. The scene where the spy woman (the most spirited being here) returns from the enemy camp and she lets the fabric with the map unfold from her body - that's Kar Wai.