Wolf Warrior 2 戰狼2 (2017)


Director: Wu Jing 吳京

Studio: Beijing Dengfeng 北京登峰 etc.

Language: Mandarin 普通話, English

Genre: Action

Running Time: 123 minutes

Not Recommended. If you really love action, there’s something here for you despite the aggressive nationalism. If you like a story, or a plot, or acting, please look elsewhere.

Former member of the Chinese special forces, Leng Feng 冷鋒, has moved to Africa following his dismissal from the armed forces. He lives a directionless life, hoping to somehow track down the kidnappers of his lover, Long Xiaoyun 龍小雲. Suddenly, he is caught up in an armed uprising, which threatens the lives of many Chinese nationals who are trapped and unable to be evacuated. With the Chinese military unable to intervene due to UN regulations, Feng sets off on a daring solo rescue mission.

Along the way, he runs into new friends — including the beautiful Dr. Rachel Prescott Smith — and adversaries. The rebels have hired a western mercenary group who are hell bent on destruction, and have a connection with Feng’s past.

Having contracted a deadly virus during the rescue of Dr. Smith, Feng faces a race against time to try and evacuate the remaining Chinese citizens from a Chinese-owned factory. But, facing overwhelming firepower, and an incurable disease, all looks lost. Luckily, Dr. Smith trials an untested vaccine on Feng, allowing them to face the oncoming assault together with their few remaining allies.

Will they be able to hold on? Will the Chinese military intervene? And, what is this mysterious connection between Feng and the mercenary group which hounds them?

Few films this year have got the Western media talking more than Wu Jing’s sequel to 2015’s relatively anonymous Wolf Warrior 戰狼. Once again Wu Jing both directs and stars, and what’s on offer remains the standard action film fair of the first effort. So, what is it that has suddenly sparked a flurry of interest in the film outside of China? Well, there’s the fact that it’s smashed box office records for a Chinese-made film; it continues to climb the all-time lists as well. However, most of the column inches in English-language media have focused on the film’s decidedly nationalist tone.

A lot of coverage has particularly focused on one of the film’s taglines: “If you offend my Chinese people, no matter the distance, you must be killed” 犯我中華者,雖遠必誅. This is certainly an alarming sounding line, although one that has been adapted from a famous historical saying (Traditional Chinese), but equally it’s a tagline to a ridiculous action movie, and was used for the previous movie as well. Truthfully, this movie is merely another part of a long narrative of increasing nationalism in the PRC, though it has gained pace under the leadership of current President Xi Jinping 習近平.

In our view, the film’s nationalism is perhaps a little more brazen than the majority of modern Hollywood’s output. In one (unintentionally amusing) scene, Dr. Smith says they should seek aid from the American embassy, only to find they are closed and thus her only way to contact them is through Twitter, a not-so-subtle dig at the banned-in-China platform. There are constant references to China’s great relationship with Africa, and of course China’s military is on full display.

With that said, despite its lack of subtlety, it is not really any worse than generations of action films that have come out of the USA. It reminded me of last year’s London Has Fallen (a terrible film). So, it is somewhat disingenuous for anyone who tries to sell this film as being fundamentally more nationalistic in content than things that have come before. It is often a trapping of the genre, with its focus on military might.

In fact, it’s refreshing on some level to see a high budget action film like this produced outside of Hollywood. Though Chinese action films are not unusual, with a long history of martial arts films, this kind of solo military hero is rarely anything but an American on the big screen. And, Wu makes a good hero. He’s clearly got the physique and the moves for the role, which has no doubt helped sell the movie at home.

We are less convinced by his ability as a director. The action scenes are sometimes well done, but often hampered by a directorial style that leans heavily on fast cuts. The result is far too confusing, with it often being unclear who is doing what, or even what exactly they are doing. Of course action films are meant to be fast paced, but when the scenes have a bit more room to breath, the results are much more effective; there’s stuff in here for action aficionados to enjoy.

We could ignore the nationalism and enjoy the film for its action scenes if it had a plot to bring us in. Unfortunately, Wolf Warrior 2 has one of the worst plots ever. Almost nothing is explained, and characters are as shallow as could be. No doubt those who’ve watched the first instalment will get more out of it, though given their relative success it’s highly likely most of the audience have not seen the first film.

It’s impossible to give a fair judgement on anyone’s acting ability because the script is a joke, full of terrible one liners and plot exposition. The numerous Caucasian actors give hilariously hammy performances, presumably on the basis of the script. This makes it very hard to understand why they are so murderous; something which is never explained.

The positives that the film puts forward in portraying an Asian action hero are completely undone by the stereotypical and dismissive portrayal of Africa. Although the film clearly tries to talk up China’s relationship with the continent, it manages to fall into every single stereotype in the book. War torn and ravaged by rebellion? Check. In need of saving by a benevolent foreign power? Check. Dancing round a fire? Check. Living in camps and infected by an unknown deadly virus? Check check check. All of these sins have been committed by others many times before, but it’s sad to see a film that is clearly trying to say that China does things differently in Africa demonstrate it does nothing differently.

Wolf Warrior 2 is a film which doesn’t deserve to be as popular as it is. Its record breaking success may make many wonder if Chinese cinema goers are completely devoid of taste. But, most media outlets have failed to mention some important facts. Firstly, the Chinese authorities have delayed a number of big Hollywood films to allow Wolf Warrior 2 and The Founding of an Army 建軍大業 (made to celebrate the People’s Liberation Army’s 90th anniversary) a free run at the summer box office. These include Spiderman: Home Coming and Dunkirk. The Founding of an Army is a CCP-sponsored history film, and has been utterly rejected by cinema goers. Thus, the choice for the millions of audience looking to escape the summer heat is actually not much of a choice at all. Secondly, clearly the film’s themes and positive portrayal of China are going to play well to a domestic audience. Finally, stupid action films are almost always solid performers at the box office. See: Transformers.

For us though, Wu Jing should stick to playing the hero. His work as a director is much less appealing than his action man credentials.

The Man Who Has A Camera 持攝影機的男人 (1933)

China / Taiwan

Director: Liu Na’ou 劉吶鷗

Studio: N/A

Language: Mandarin 普通話, Japanese 日文

Genre: Silent / Travel

Running Time: 30 minutes


Although the most famous works of early Chinese cinema come from the so-called leftist films of the 1930s, a number of which have been covered on this blog e.g. Street Angel 馬路天使, it’s important when looking at the historiography of Chinese cinema to remember that it was mostly formalised during the initial years of Communist rule post-1949. One of these notable works is The History of the Development of Chinese Cinema 中國電影發展史 by Cheng Jihua 程季華.

Cheng’s analysis of pre-war Shanghai cinema puts great emphasis on the differences between leftist “hard” films, and reactionary pro-KMT/colonialist “soft” films. The hard/soft nomenclature had in fact been used previously, but Cheng’s work was the first time that these terms came to mean that “hard” films were serious political works whilst “soft” films were inherently tainted by impure ideologies and thus, less worthy pieces of art.

Subsequently, a large-scale abandonment of these films as serious viewing took place, until the 1990s, when those works that survived began to be reexamined by both domestic and international scholars. In the late 1990s, The Man Who Has A Camera was discovered in an attic by relatives of Liu Na’ou — famous not just for his own directorial work in Shanghai, but his critical essays and literature as a member of the cosmopolitan class.

Liu was truly a product of this particular moment in history. Born into a southern Taiwanese family during its time as a Japanese colony, Liu would go on to spend several years studying in Japan itself, before relocating to Shanghai in 1926. Thus, Liu was exposed to a great number of cultural influences that would influence his own world view and aesthetic.

The Man Who Has A Camera is clearly not a film that was intended for public audiences, being partially a study of Liu’s family and friends, mixed in with various scenes from travels around China, Taiwan and Japan. But its 30 minutes are a glimpse into the much-criticised world of elite, cosmopolitan, Shanghai.

Despite not featuring on film at all, the influence of the Shanghai lifestyle can be seen throughout. Comprising sections filmed in Tainan, Taiwan; Tokyo, Japan; Guangdong, China; and Mukden in then-Japanese puppet state Manchukuo (modern day Shenyang in Liaoning Province), Liu’s camera frequently focuses on his glamorous companions, or on a bustling mechanised cityscape. He travels by road, by boat and by air, interacting with people across cultural boundaries (notably finding a gurning foreigner in Guangdong). This is interspersed with more traditional street scenes, including an extended parade replete with lion dancers in Tainan, or a tranquil walk through the Japanese countryside. The calm, stillness, and simplicity of the scenes with his family in Tainan — an elderly woman, young children with their parents puzzled at this new kind of photography — is starkly contrasted with a military parade by Nationalist forces in Guangdong.

To watch The Man Who Has A Camera is to be taken to a world where the concept of national identities has been blurred into a cosmopolitan whole.  A private film, and as such one that has been made in order to convey emotions and memories of a time that we cannot truly understand. But, it still tells us much about Liu as a man and his style. Bearing many of the hallmarks of his preferred style of filmmaking, it has a wonderful kineticism on display in its numerous travel and street scenes.

Liu’s life was cut short in 1940 following his assassination in Shanghai, a fate he shared with friend and fellow author/filmmaker Mu Shiying 穆時英, apparently for collaboration with the Japanese. The life and times he portrayed in his work were but a brief snapshot in history, but they remain somewhat of an enigma, buried as they are under the politically unappealing headings of ‘collaborationist’ and ‘reactionary’.

There is no doubt, however, that The Man Who Has A Camera stands as an important record of that time, and the unique identity of those such as Liu who straddled cultures in 1930s Shanghai.