The Flowers of War

Behind the chromatic explosions and gruesome combat that pervade the historical drama “The Flowers of War ” (《金陵十三釵》 J~nl!ng Sh!s`n Ch`i， or “Nanjing’s 13 Women”)， lies a touching story of sacrifice and heroism told by an unlikely narrator: a teenage schoolgirl caught in a raging battle between the Chinese and Japanese.

Her blue uniform vividly contrasts with the dense fog that enshrouds a fallen Nanjing， as invading Japanese troops engage in the final battles that will lead to their full occupation of the city on December 13， 1937. She and her schoolmates flee for their lives that day， seeking safety behind the towering stone walls of Winchester Cathedral， their former school and home.

Also caught in the fog is the American mortician John Miller (Christian Bale)， who is bound for the convent to prepare the body of its recently deceased priest. Preoccupied with his quest for booze and a quick buck， he ignores pleas to use his foreign influence to escort the girls out of the warzone. To Miller’s delight， a group of prostitutes from the famous brothels of Qinhuai River， led by the charming and exuberant Yu Mo (Ni Ni)， break into the church and hide out in the cellar.

This marks the beginning of events narrated by Shujuan (書娟)， a schoolgirl whose fictional recollections are based on “13 Flowers of Nanjing，”a novel by Chinese-American author Yan Geling (嚴歌苓). Her voice reaches through the hazy fog as she illustrates her tragic experience:

“I remember that day everyone was

running， but no one could escape that heavy fog.”

我記得那天所有的人都在跑，好像永遠也跑不出那場大霧。

W6 j#de n3ti`n su6y6u de r9n d4u z3i p2o， h2oxi3ng y6ngyu2n y0 p2obuch$ n3 ch2ng d3w.

Director Zhang Yimou bases the most expensive Chinese movie ever made (with a budget of RMB600 million) on characters rarely cast as protagonists in recent national cinematography: a class of harmless schoolgirls， a foreigner， a little boy and a group of headstrong prostitutes. Zhang， China’s most well-known director， makes movies that are both aesthetically rich and narratively multifaceted， which may be why， more than any other Chinese artist， he’s been able to achieve success both in the West and at home， having received national commendations and even overcome clashes with government censorship. With “The Flowers of War，” Zhang aims to secure Chinese cinema even higher international recognition. This influenced his decision to cast the American actor Christian Bale in the leading role of Miller and include English dialogues， an innovative move as， previously， most foreigners in Chinese movies have been fluent in Mandarin or had their voices dubbed. Zhang Yimou also enriches “The Flowers of War” with multiple sequences of military action and

gallantry that， despite their inevitable nationalistic rhetoric， help turn the

two-and-a-half hour movie into an

emotional rollercoaster.

Zhang knows how to play the

heartstrings of the domestic audience， and it’s the outnumbered Chinese

soldiers’ selfless sacrifice in the face of oncoming Japanese tanks that allows the girls to safely reach the church， as Shu recalls:

“At that time， the Chinese people couldn’t bear the thought of losing their country， and selfless acts were not uncommon.”

當時的中國人不愿意忍受當亡國奴的恥辱，往往拿命去拼。

D`ngsh! de Zh4nggu5r9n b% yu3ny# r0nsh7u

d`ng w1nggu5n% de ch@r^， w2ngw2ng n1 m#ng q p~n.

Miller， who is far from heroic in his first encounter with the students， remains a selfish erliuzi (二流子， jerk)， as their teenage guardian George (Huang Tianyuan)， calls him. It’s only when he witnesses the heartless brutality of the Japanese soldiers that Miller has a somewhat belated epiphany and realizes he is the girls’only hope. With his decision made， he dons clerical clothing and poses as the church’s priest， temporarily shielding the refugees from their ruthless enemy. When an opportunity to leave the city presents itself， Miller refuses， completing his full-circle transformation into a moral hero， as he commits to staying behind and helping the women and girls escape. But Miller needs outside help that only Shujuan’s father can provide. He’s a collaborator with the Japanese， or a hanjian (漢奸， traitor)， which

shames his daughter and makes her hate him， even as he tries to explain the reasons behind his risky move:

“Because of you I’m staying in Nanjing. If I don’t do this， I can’t survive. I’m doing this for you， you must believe me. I would never do anything bad. Daughter， I’ll find a way to get you out of Nanjing.”

為了你，爸爸只好留在南京。爸爸不干這個，能活下去嗎？爸爸所做的一切全都是為了你。你相信爸爸，我絕對不會做壞事。阿囡，爸爸一定會想辦法讓你逃出南京。

W-ile n@， b3ba zh@h2o li% z3i N1nj~ng. B3ba b% g3n zh-ge， n9ng hu5 xi3q ma? B3ba su6zu7 de y!qi- qu1n d4ush# w-ile n@. N@ xi`ngx#n b3ba， w6 ju9du# b% hu# zu7 hu3ish#. A’n`n， b3ba y!d#ng hu# xi2ng b3nf2 r3ng n@ t1o ch$ N1nj~ng.

soldiers， visits the church to offer protection and food to the girls. But what they thought was a friendly gesture is soon followed by an order for the girls to “sing” at a victory party organized for the army officers. It’s clear that a horrible fate lurks behind the invitation， which cannot be declined despite Miller’s protests. The desperate girls， led by Shujuan， decide that they would rather die than fall into Japanese hands， so they climb the belltower and prepare to cast themselves into the abyss. The prostitutes beg them:

“How do you expect the girls to handle the Japanese? Even if they make it back alive， they won’t be able to carry on.”

這種事你讓那些小女娃怎么對付啊？就算她們活著回來了，還活

Zh- zh6ng sh# n@ r3ng n3xi8 xi2on)w1 z0nme du#fu a? Jisu3n t`men hu5zhe hu!l1i le， h1i hu5dech9ng ma?

The prostitutes， known as the women of Qinhuai River， then decide to make a sacrifice that will reveal their true

nature:

“Remember how the ancient poem

describes us? ‘Prostitutes never care

about a falling nation， they sing and

dance while others are dying.’ we should do something heroic， and change that old way of thinking.”

The prostitutes thus bloom into the“13 flowers” of Yan Geling’s novel and their revitalization spawns renewed hope for the young girls. Through this neat device， Zhang Yimou probes one of the deepest scars in Chinese history while celebrating the power of outstanding women bound to sacrifice， a trademark of his early career. As with all Zhang’s films， “The Flowers of War” is visually astonishing. Its powerful narrative and at times breathtaking cinematography prompted many to wonder if the film was Academy Award material. But“Flowers” came away from the award ceremony empty-handed. While Zhang’s treatment of Nanjing strives for moral poignancy， it is light on historical accuracy or depth， and may have suffered as a result. Moreover， despite Zhang’s concessions to Western viewers， the nationalistic sentiments that characterize “Flowers” may have been a little too strong for Hollywood’s