I grew up on a healthy diet of John Woo films, back in his heyday, when every film was a masterpiece. As a child, I used to think that Chow Yun-Fat had surgically implanted a toothpick between his teeth, and that someone had sewed a pair of guns to his hands the way mothers sew mittons to coats. Whenever he was standing in a scene, I would have to tilt my head, because he just didnt seem right unless he was on his back or flying sideways through the air, guns ablazin'. My cousin and I would reinact all the scenes where Chow and [the other guy] would point guns at each other's head while spouting calm, witty dialogue; sometimes we would spin in circles to emulate the camera moving round and round the pair.I stopped watching John Woo films when he started working with the whities*. I didn't want to see the man who had introduced me to guns, machetes and the brotherhood (all before I reached puberty) embarass himself. And time and Hollywood proved me right. There was that unfortunate Jean-Claude van Damme debut, and then one too many films starring Nicholas Cage... So I've only heard the rumours of how bad the others were, and I'm quite glad to have closed my eyes on the last 15 years of John Woo's career.
But when I heard about Red Cliff, I just couldn't resist. Woo's first foray into the ancient China genre, armed with a historical epic and a bloated budget? And no Nicholas Cage? Happy day! Come back, my prodigal son, come back to the motherland. Here, take a timeless classic, and go forth...
It's 208AD, and the scheming Prime Minister Cao Cao is set to inherit the fading Han Empire. Having already conquered the North, Cao Cao sends his mighty army to the southlands of
Woo’s casting woes prior to production were almost as dramatic as the film itself, with a revolving door of actors moving in and out of roles. Tony Leung Chiu-wai, turned down the role of Zhuge Liang (which was later taken up by Takeshi Kaneshiro), but came back to the production to replace Chow Yun-Fat as Zhou Yu, after Fat unexpectedly bowed out during the first week of shooting.
Kaneshiro is surprisingly good as the youthful and smart strategist, displaying a confidence of ease; a man whose strength is clearly more brains than brawn. His character plays counterpoint to Leung's Viceroy; soft wisdom partnered with hard experience. Kaneshiro’s Zhuge is the sagacious strategist, while Zhou Yu is a man wisened by battle, the elder, more experienced of the two. Together, Zhuge and Zhou share duties as the brains of Liu Bei’s military operations.
Sadly, (and it really hurts to say this) Tony Leung's performance is a little unconvincing. Leung gives Zhou Yu a sensitive touch that seems naggingly misplaced, and he can't seem to hold down the commanding presence and brute smarts that his Zhou Yu's character demands. This is partly the failure of the script too, as it doesn’t help that Lin Chi-ling has been cast as the superfluous pretty thing clasping his arm, dragging Zhou Yu's strong silent machismo down with her.
Perhaps I can blame the voice actor for Leung's failings. Apparently, Leung's Mandarin is so egregious that Taiwanese audiences have never heard his real voice. Or perhaps I can blame the costume designer, who for some unknown reason has made Leung look exceptionally more ridiculous than his fellow actors. But beyond all this, Leung's portrayal of the strong, hardened commander is simply... lacking. Leung's performance leaves me wistfully thinking that Woo had it right the first time- Chow (or at least the Chow of old) would probably have been a much better fit for the character of Zhou Yu, and Leung would have made an appropriate Zhuge Liang.
Woo's supporting cast provides a lively backdrop to the furrowed brows of military scheming. Some, like Lin Chi-ling, are merely cinematic window-dressing while others, Liu Bei’s brothers-in-arms in particular, evoke a sense of martial heroism that is trademark Woo. His themes of fraternal brotherhood from his good ol' days (A Better Tomorrow, Hard-Boiled) shine in the context of warring ancient
The strangest thing about Woo's big-budget blockbuster- the most expensive Asian film ever made- is his visual aesthetic, or rather lack of one. When George Lucas brought back the Star Wars series, he used wipes and iris transitions between scenes- a self-reflexive, old school send-up to his earlier series. But I don't know what John Woo's excuse is. Red Cliff has none of the colourfully-saturated imagery of Zhang Yi-mou's Hero, nor the gritty bleak look of Peter Chan's The Warlords. It leaves me wondering where the hell all the money went. Battle sequences notwithstanding, there are parts of Red Cliff that could have come straight out of a kareoke video. It's as if, not being able to cinematically date the film back to 200AD, Woo has settled for circa 1982.
Despite all this, Woo has the advantage of having one of the most entertaining and engrossing stories in Chinese history at his disposal. The Battle of Red Cliff is a dramatic tale of strategy and wit, and the film serves to fill in the complicated imaginary spaces of the book with vivid, awe-invoking visuals and stunning scenes of scale. Not only are the individual heroics of the characters in battle amazing, but Woo has made military strategy look sexy, in a big big way, especially in the film's big battle finale.
Red Cliff has plenty of awesome action and a thoroughly engaging story, but Woo still looks groggy from his Hollywood daze. Hopefully he'll have walked it off in time for the film's finale.
*A version of this appears on Twitch, my friend's film site, where I was virtually accosted by angry cinephiles for using the term "whitey". I guess it was smart to take out the part where I refer to Chinese folks as "my people"... to see me stand corrected, click on the link.
