[MAINLAND REVIEWS] 风声 (The Message)

They were called 汉奸 (Hanjian), traitors to the Han race, a term which was only made official in the late 1930s, but had existed ever since the Qing dynasty. At the time of its inception, it was actually used in a rather complacent way by the Manchu in power, labeling anyone swimming against the tide with that pejorative, further expanding the divide et impera which had relegated Han Chinese to a suffering majority. But by the time of China's tumultuous 1940s and the Second Sino-Japanese War, the term had regained its initial meaning, this time as a black flag condemning any pro-Japanese collaborator - the number of Hanjian slaughtered without trial by Chiang Kai-Shek's junta numbers in the tens of thousands, to give you an idea. One of the most peculiar and infamous figures to gain this burdensome accolade was Wang Jingwei, a former Kuomintang member and Sun Yat-Sen acolyte who eventually left the party over strong disagreements with Chiang, and decided it was time to show his true colors in a very explicit way - by creating his own puppet government in Nanjing under the "tutelage" of the Japanese empire. It was amongst the most colorful of affronts: Wang used the same flag (adding a Japan-friendly pennant), emblem and name as the KMT's Republic of China, claiming legitimacy over their "cousins" in Chongqing. It's exactly from this setup that the Huayi Brothers' latest attempt to redraw the main melody map, 风声 (The Message), started with (literally) flying colors.

It's 1942, and under the constant threat of rival (both the KMT and Communist) forces, Wang's regime and imperialist Japan devise a rather clever plot to uncover the mole which had been planning several murders of key figures, and was now aiming for much bigger targets. With a fake communication handed to the Counterinsurgency division, mastermind Takeda (TV idol Huang Xiaoming) manages to allure five key suspects to an old, isolated mansion in the capital's outskirts, deliciously oozing European style. One of the five is the mole, known as 老鬼 (old ghost, "Phantom" in the English subs), and with the help of commissioner Wang (Wang Zhiwen) and the grotesque team of torture experts he and Takeda assembled, their job will be to find out who paved the way for such devious concoctions, leaking important information to the rebel organization. And he couldn't choose a more varied bunch: we have tough-as-nails military veteran Wu Zhiguo (Zhang Hanyu); the insidious tongue of effeminate secretary Bai Xiaonian (Taiwanese pop star-cum-TV idol Alec Su); the demure and sophisticated master codebreaker Li Ningnyu (Li Bingbing), with her killer Qipao and enough subtle charms to remind of the Hollywood divas of yore; ultimate Daddy's Little Girl and Morse code expert Gu Xiaomeng (super-talented Zhou Xun) explodes with cheerful and smarmy playfulness (not to mention a dead serious, tomorrow-is-not-another-day hangover), whereas sector chief Jin Shenguo (King of Comedy Ying Da) and his gigantic complex seems more peeved and troubled by the entire ordeal. Once the five realize they have now become the protagonist of an Agatha Christie chamber whodunit with a stretcher being their most likely way out, proceedings in Qiu mansion assume a whole different color. Or maybe shades of gray.

If Sun Zhou's 秋喜 (Qiuxi) took care of the middle ground, what films like The Message and 麦田 (Wheat) have achieved is offering an antithesis to propaganda potboiler 建国大业 (The Founding of a Republic) in the ever-evolving main melody canon of 2009. Whereas the record breaking, insanely star-studded 60th anniversary cheerleading parade conveyed its key points (titillating with star power, and shoving government creed down the viewers' throats) with the delicacy of a Jurassic Park alumni, filmmaking of this kind is what could lead Mainland China to a new golden age, one not limited to festival-friendly fare by the likes of Jia Zhangke and many a sixth-generation director, and the increasingly empty period blockbusters the fifth generation has been offering. That is because The Message, in all its obvious aim to glorify the sacrifices the path to today's prosperity (?) was laden with, is also a supremely entertaining, superbly produced film first and foremost, one which oozes the bravado of Hollywood classics of the period (the 1940s, that is) along with their distinctive political incorrectness; a film boasting a fantastic cast which even manages to cover individual shortcomings through ensemble acting, and a bombastic (oftentimes pompous) visual sturm und drang which oozes confidence from every frame. If propaganda it has to be, let it always be it done this way.

In all fairness, the Mainland's new obsession with spy thrillers has very predictable roots: novels and television. Novels because of the slightly more laissez-faire approach of the government, which paved the way for much richer, more realistic and striking literature; as for TV, maybe it's an indirect consequence of the government's much stricter impositions on crime thrillers or history-related productions - making sure that all viewers will get are shallow wuxia infested by idols, somber "reenactments" of many a popular hero's feats with nary a hint of artistry, and huge productions with insane battle scenes and fancy historical paraphernalia thrown around, but very little to say about the period and very little soul to begin with. As a result, the much more approachable spy thriller has become a sort of darling of TV execs, as you can generate great suspense, bank on the many classically-trained talents the Mainland has to offer, and make the head honchos happy with less effort than you'd think. It's curious, then, to find out that The Message's narrative pillars exactly come from these two elements, in the form of famous novelist Mai Jia. And his life story is just as interesting as any film or TV drama he's been involved with: born in Fuyang in 1964, Mai worked as a People's Liberation Army codebreaker for 17 years, experience which he filled a trilogy of tremendously influential novels with, starting with 2001's 解密 (Codebreakers), and followed by his acclaimed follow up 暗算 (Covert Ops), focusing on the Republican era. This, in more ways than one, was his true call to stardom: Covert Ops was in fact adapted into the tremendously successful 30 episode drama 暗算 (Plot Against) in 2006, divided into three mini-stories dealing with different subjects (codebreaking, undercover missions and radio operations), which paved the way for a renaissance of the spy thriller, finding its most popular confirmation with this year's 潜伏 (Lurk) by Jiang Wei.

The Message (whose Chinese title is a double entendre meaning the "sound of wind" but also "rumor") comes from the very final installment of Mai's intelligence trilogy, and although Chen Kuo-Fu's script certainly takes its liberties with the source and it's not exactly subtle - the whodunit aspect of the story is too obvious to have any impact, but the main melody coda sort of makes up for it - it's a fine adaptation effectively translating that noir-like ethical ambiguity which drenched those figures and their challenging work, which always banked on one rather trying motto: trust nobody but yourself and your cause. Seen in that vein, the film assumes a much more colorful slant, one whose roots are genre-based and come from literature, making any doubt that this was just a big whodunit setup to get out the flags and cheer the advent of red-colored salvation vanish into thin air. It's a world filled with a lot of darkness but very little black and white dichotomies, and even when we're presented with stereotypes (the effeminate young executive "loving" his way up the ranks, the energetic tomboy hiding clouds behind her frolicsome smile, or the vicious collaborator and his Joker-like aplomb), it's all put in context in a rather plausible, even charming way - think of how Mad Men deals with its characters' period-influenced warts, albeit in much less subtle strokes. But even if you decide to ignore all that, this film is enough bombastic fun to be worthy of a trip to the theater.

Forget Tim Yip's phenomenal work (those Qipao... are dangerous), and the almost unhealthy detail with which the period ambiance has been recreated - down to the Nazi songs inside Qiu Mansion, as deliriously over-the-top as it is perfectly realistic, considering Wang Jingwei was a Nazi sympathizer who organized pro-Axis groups during his stay in the KMT; forget the sprinkles of energetic, wildly anachronistic intertitle-like CG, transforming Morse communication into an Y2K generation-driven extravaganza. Forget the solid score by Oshima Michiru and the top notch cinematography (including his wild visual non-sequitur with the fly cam) by Jake Pollock, as what really stands out and carries the film from start to finish is the fantastic cast, a very healthy mix of star power and veterans who can deliver the goods. Seeing incredibly talented veterans like Wang Zhiwen - wonderful as the King of Liang in 墨攻 (A Battle of Wits) - get the chance to fully flex their muscles in material which can challenge them (unlike his often pedestrian work on TV) is a joy, and Wang's vicious frowns and explosive panache mark what is perhaps his best performance since his turn as Marquis Changxin in Chen Kaige's 荊柯刺秦王 (The Emperor and the Assassin). It's also no surprise to see Zhou Xun excel (is she ever less than very good, even in much lesser work?), but the really interesting aspect of this cast is how stars whose talent is often overshadowed by their choice of projects finally got the chance to show their true colors. Take Li Bingbing, for instance, who starred in way too much fluff for her own good, but manages to mix subtle sex appeal with an underlying sadness which makes her character all the more appealing - think 40s Hollywood diva meets Maggie Cheung in 花樣年華 (In The Mood For Love). Or, even more shockingly, take Huang Xiaoming, who - surprise surprise - seems to be able to act indeed, something his many TV escapades rarely suggested.

Could The Message have been better? I suppose so, but you always have to consider the context. Take this cast, Gao Qunshu's assured direction and the top notch technical specs which surrounded this film and go for a badass, no holds barred spy noir, and you could make a masterpiece out of this. But that is not likely what the Huayi Brothers, who are increasingly dominating the Mainland box office with their productions, wanted to go for. Combining strong main melody themes with sincerity (as much as the practice allows, obviously), filling the film with a cast which can appeal to a wide scope of demographics (from teenyboppers to older generations) but also deliver the goods, mixing noir tropes with an old school whodunit narrative structure and even throwing some deliciously perverse torture scenes into the mix, all stirred and served with fancy CG and wild camerawork on top can offer the kind of adrenaline and pizzazz that Mainland cinema hadn't seen in quite a while. And you know what? That's the point. The main melody canon is not going to go away any time soon, especially as long as the government continues to see culture (particularly TV dramas and films) as a crucial catalyst of their propaganda. But if you're going to do it, show some guts. Surround it with solid and energetic filmmaking, with a cast that is not merely made of big names, but actors who can give life to their characters; with themes that support the inevitable core themes coherently and with intelligence, without making the whole affair a cheap exercise in cheerleading. Then, maybe we'll close an eye and only focus on the spectacle on display, just like this film has moved many people to do. Because, really, that's the only message that counts...

RATING: 8

风声 (The Message)
Director: 高群书 (Gao Qunshu), 陈国富 (Chen Kuo-Fu)
Screenplay: 陈国富 (Chen Kuo-Fu). 麦家 (Mai Jia - Novel)
Produced by: Huayi Brothers Media Corporation
Running Time: 120 Minutes
Release: 9/29/2009
CAST: 周迅 (Zhou Xun), 张涵予 (Zhang Hanyu), 李冰冰 (Li Bingbing), 黄晓明 (Huang Xiaoming), 王志文 (Wang Zhiwen), 苏有朋 (Alec Su), 英达 (Ying Da), 倪大宏 (Ni Dahong), 段奕宏 (Duan Yihong)