The Last Emperor (1987)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Last Emperor (1987) – B. Bertolucci

Truly epic, particularly because I watched the 218 minute cut created for Italian television rather than the theatrical release.  Bernardo Bertolucci’s film follows the last emperor of China, Pu Yi, who was brought to the Forbidden City at age 3 but forced to abdicate only a few years later in 1912, retaining some privileges until he and his entourage were expelled in 1924.  The film views these events from the future, in 1950, when Pu Yi is imprisoned by the People’s Republic and put through a 10-year period of re-education, eventually recanting his right to the throne.  However, we see his journey to this point as a painful one, as he grows from a selfish sheltered boy into a wilful adolescent, sparring with his Scottish tutor (Peter O’Toole, at home in another epic after his tenure with David Lean) and demanding to be treated as special.  Eventually he is played as an adult by John Lone and Joan Chen is chosen to be his bride (he also has a concubine or two).  All of this happens quite outside of the public eye – and Pu Yi is apparently unaware of the various transitions in Chinese society and government outside the walls of the Forbidden City (where the production actually filmed, with the blessing of the current Chinese leadership).  His ignorance and desire to return to ruling the entire country made him an easy pawn of the Japanese who eventually took over Manchuria (from where the emperor’s family originated) and coronated Pu Yi as (puppet) leader.  In prison, he claims that his actions were forced but in flashback we see this not to be the case.  Things become depressing and decadent.  After his release from prison in 1959, Pu Yi takes on the role of gardener and, alone, after his separation from his spouse(s) and all others, he dies quietly during the era of Mao.  Bertolucci and cinematographer Vittorio Storaro make the most of this material, offering up beautiful images, richly coloured according to era (and eventually reminding one of the deco period glamour of The Conformist, 1970).  Although I suspect the theatrical cut (which won 9 Oscars) was tighter, I found this unfamiliar story engrossing, an experience that was heightened by the magnificent style of the film.