Despite what the Chinese PR (and Wikipedia) would have you believe, The Cold Flame has nothing to do with Feng Xiaogang's The Assembly. Yang Shupeng's debut was shot in 2005, and held back for long enough the studio ended up releasing it on the back of Zhang Hanyu's success in the bigger film, touting it as a sequel. But The Cold Flame works on a smaller scale, far more intimate and much more human, not to mention it takes place in a different conflict altogether.
The film takes place in the waning years of the Sino-Japanese war (where Japan spent most of World War II trying to conquer the rest of Asia). Xue (Zhang Hanyu, The Message, Assembly), a Chinese officer in the Kuomintang, is rushed into a small town in the north where a French missionary and his daughter Maria run a field hospital out of the church. One of the refugees helping the nurses is Du (Michelle Gong), a fourteen-year-old orphan sheltering in the town with her younger brother Jingwen.
Curious about the wounded soldier clinging to life, the girl returns to check up on him time and again - eventually nurturing a tentative crush on the older man, much to the displeasure of the staff. Regardless of what this means to either party, however, the war is never far away.
War as the end of innocence, then, though in a very general sense; The Cold Flame is too low-budget to show any explicit gore, and the growing attraction between the leads is strictly platonic (though Du clearly views Xue as more than just a father figure).
Yang is clearly aware of his limitations, pitching the film as part first love, part redemptive friendship instead - Du looking for a way to assert her newfound maturity, Xue plagued by survivor's guilt. The two leads manage a very believable chemistry that skips constantly between both aspects of their relationship, often in the same conversation, neither flirting per se but Du clumsily testing the boundaries and Xue gently humouring her.
Both give admirably restrained, naturalistic performances, neither resorting to stereotypes or overt melodrama. Neither of them are solely black or white - Xue is withdrawn, self-centred and aloof; Du is an adolescent through and through, enterprising and resourceful but boosting her self-esteem with little (if steadily growing) white lies and petty exercises of authority over her brother.
At the same time while Yang is more than able to turn two talented actors to his advantage, he can't quite cover for his lack of funds. The director shoots character interplay with confidence and skill but the opening and closing action scenes lack flair; they're neither sufficiently showy nor down-to-earth to really impress, a significant flaw considering their importance to the narrative. And while the art direction and cinematography are strong, the lack of much in the way of set dressing and only a scant few wide shots make it far too obvious this is strictly a studio picture.
As a war film with no big set pieces and a restrictive budget the production feels somewhat lacking as a whole, with no standout themes or imagery. What we do get comes across a little superfluous, which makes it seem Yang is overcompensating, directing us towards areas of the movie that can't stand up to close attention.
This is frustrating because the high points more than carry the film and could have been even more effective with a little restructuring. The Cold Flame is far more engaging than Assembly, for all its lower profile. Yang deserves major kudos for resisting the temptation to politicise his script - the Japanese are portrayed fairly matter-of-factly and the Kuomintang, so often demonised by main melody films as the enemies of the Communists, are simply people here. Again, his leads are tremendously watchable, Zhang demonstrating effortless star charisma but Michelle Gong more than holding her own in what is arguably the more demanding role.
And despite the obvious flaws several emotional sequences still pack a visceral punch. The score plays a large part in this - light and breezy when it needs to be, but sparse and haunting otherwise. The epilogue, with accompanying gorgeous cello motif, is a quietly devastating moment for all its appearance is predictable.
It may seem unfinished or less than fully realised, but for all its narrower focus The Cold Flame is still a notable debut (from a self-taught director, no less). Unfairly ignored outside the domestic market it may lack the pyrotechnics or the melodrama to wow overseas audiences, but still manages something far more lasting, moving and real than much of the competition. Hopefully Yang can improve on it, given time, but for anyone after a rough diamond among the last few years' mainland releases The Cold Flame comes recommended all the same.