by Sam Juliano
Huna blentyn ar fy mynwes
Clyd a chynnes ydyw hon;
Breichiau mam sy’n dynn amdanat,
Cariad mam sy dan fy mron;
Ni cha’ dim amharu’th gyntun,
Ni wna undyn â thi gam;
Huna’n dawel, annwyl blentyn,
Huna’n fwyn ar fron dy fam.
-Verse #1, “Suo Gan”, Wales, circa 1800
The celebrated critic Andrew Sarris, who previously had little good to say about Steven Spielberg, reversed himself in a now famous assessment of 1987’s Empire of the Sun, which the scribe rapturously proclaimed the best film of the year: “I was stirred and moved on a scale I had forgotten existed. The film is a fusion of kinesthetic energy with literary sensibility, pulse-pounding adventure with exquisitely delicate sensitivity.”
This glorious epic of heroism and loss of innocence is my personal favorite of all Spielberg’s films and one of the greatest pictures of the 80′s. I well remember going on a tangent back in those days, seeing the film over and over in theaters and securing permission from my district’s Board of Education for a school field trip for seventh graders. Christian Bale’s arresting performance may still be his finest ever, the use of the Welsh hymn ‘Suo Gan’ still brings goosebumps, and Allen Daviau’s breathtaking cinematography indelibly orchestrates Spielberg’s rapturous images. The film had to compete that same year -with John Boorman’s masterpiece Hope and Glory, which broached much of the same subject matter and same period, and it was bumped for the big nomination at Oscar time in favor of the Boorman’s work, though the National Board of Review handed over their Best Picture and Best Director prizes to the film and Spielberg.
Based on the autobiographical novel by J.G. Ballard, Empire of the Sun revolves around the early teenage years of a young English boy named Jamie Graham, who is living in China with his wealthy parents in the privileged Shanghai International Settlement. The father is a British diplomat, and the young boy is hopelessly spoiled and afflicted with an entitlement malady. He even tells the family’s Chinese maid that she ‘must do as she is told’ after she initially objects to him eating cookies before bedtime in their lavish, sprawling home, which showcases manicured landscaping and an in ground swimming pool. While the boy can’t be held to task by the implications of racism in his precocious declaration -his behavior is after all a product of the socially condescending era he was reared in – his parents apparently balk at studious intervention at all turns, no doubt because the servants are seen as lower class, and thereby subject to obedience. Ballard, who was exceedingly pleased with the film -he made a cameo in the costume party segment- endured the events depicted in the film, which of course was based on his writing.
Jamie’s special obsession is with Japanese planes and pilots, as can be amply seen by the adornments in his bedroom, and his outdoor engagements with toy planes. During a costume party he is brought to by his parents he explores the field in back of the house and discovers a downed Japanese airplane and nearby a Japanese soldier contingent based in and around a trench. Unbeknownst to his parents and the other English visitors the Japanese, who had just attacked Pearl Harbor, were preparing to invade the neutral settlement in a planned conquest of the most vital locations on the Chinese mainland. His father and a friend guide the boy back to safety as he is suspiciously eyed by the soldiers. The inability and unwillingness of the Brits to come to terms with the danger they are in can be attributed to their cockiness and belief they immune because of their political neutrality. Golfing on his grounds the father assures young Jim “China isn’t our war.” Of course the very idea of an over-the-top costume party on the easily discernible brink of war is defiant or at least blind ignorance. In any case it is quite the dazzling sequence, colorful and picturesque, and suffused with some of the awe-inspiring wonderment in the place discovery that will be encored several times later in the film. The transportation to the party in spiffy-clean Rolls Royces driven by chauffeurs through streets of civilian unrest are the prelude to impending disaster. Serving the purpose of a Greek chorus one bearded street vendor sits clapping a small tin box against the ground while eyeing a riveted Jamie, while chanting indecipherable words in ominous mode as the automobile passes his post.
After explosions rock his home and their enclave -a result of the initiated invasion- the boy is whisked off in frantic and terrifying mass evacuation by his parents, but after his lets go of his mother’s hand to pick up a toy plane he dropped, he is permanently separated from her in a tidal wave of humanity that engulfs everyone to the point of no return. With fleeing Chinese inhabiting every open space, and every chance to reverse closed up, the spectacular set piece is brilliantly choreographed, and most surely rank as one of the most powerful Spielberg has ever directed. Screaming for his mom, he manages to hear her final words which urge him to return home, where they will meet up with him at some point in the future. His deserted house soon falls into disarray and there is a sign on the door that proclaims it is now the property of the Imperial Emperor of Japan, which can be seen as an ironic vindication of British colonialism. Jamie is startled to see the maid and another man removing a piece of furniture, and tries to intervene, only to get slapped hard in the face by the now unemployed woman,who revels in the opportunity to gain some measure of comeuppance against her juvenile oppressor. He remains in the house for several days, eating from canned goods and boxed candies, but inevitably he roams out back to the area of occupation telling the troops “I surrender!” in a desperate attempt to receive food rations. He is either ignored or laughed at and is chased through the back alleys and food courts by a seemingly crazed street kid who calls him “Eng-a-lish boy.” He eventually incurs a beating and the theft of his shoes before a woman intervenes. He is almost run down by a truck, but the driver, Frank, takes him in to another American, a Dickensinian con artist sea merchant named Basie, who quickly assesses the possibility of selling the boy’s impressive teeth on the black market after a failed attempt to barter the boy outright to a peasant. Jamie convinces them to troll his neighborhood for expensive furnishing and items that would bring in plenty of cash, but the scheme backfires when the boy leads them to his own house, which has since been occupied by Japanese soldiers looking to set up camp, affording Jamie unintentional revenge. Hearing the strains of a Chopin mazurka he recognized as a family favorite, he expected to see his mother at the door, but instead white-clad military men, who promptly beat Basie nearly to death with lethal acrobatic efficiency.
The narrative unfolds in vignette like fashion, so even those who have seen the film multiple times may forget the exact sequence. In any event, Jamie, Basie and the others are then taken to an interment camp, the Lunghua Civilian Assembly Center, located near an air field. Wartime atrocities are seen first-hand by the boy, now initiated in true baptism-under-fire manner, seeing dead bodies up close and the horrors of war that were for too long a discarded underside of the boy’s idealized view of battlefield glory and guaranteed victory at no expense. One harrowing sequence shows Jamie administering CPR to a young woman who has no pulse. His rigorous chest pressing causes her face to turn, temporarily convincing the boy she is still alive, until appraised otherwise by Dr. Rawlins, who serves as a second father figure for Jamie after Basie. Basie is then moved to the Soochow Creek Internment Camp, but eventually is joined by Jamie. The continuing mentor sets the increasingly-resourceful boy in fruitful motion as prime runner of a trade network initiated as a practical alternative to financial profiteering. The boy exchanges cigarettes for fruit, but is exasperated to witness Basie’s theft of shoes from an expiring woman, and the continual pilfering of potatoes. Still Jamie stands by Basie, though unlike his survival-focused master, he will help out others as well. At one point the boy adoringly touches the medal on one of the planes, but is quickly confronted by a trio of fighter pilots.
Jim befriends a Japanese teenager, who is training to become a pilot. Shortly thereafter in the most emotionally overwhelming passage in the film, “Jim” endeavors to salute his friend and three others who have graduated to the position of fighter pilot, in effect paying homage to his occupiers, an astonishing gesture that thematically recalls the overwrought respect extended the Japanese by the British prisoners in David Lean’s The Bridge Over the River Kwai. The sequence is fueled by a second round of the beautiful aforementioned “Suo Gan”, which is initially sung A Cappella by Jamie, is then expanded to embrace John Williams’ soaring arrangement. The austere and tearful measure of obeisance humbles even the oft-brutal camp supervisor Sgt. Nagata, who well understands this milestone is a mere prelude to a suicide mission. But Jamie is overcome by the fact that his friend has ascended to a vocation he reveres more than any other, and the reverence clearly transcends the matter of what side he is on. The sequence sustains operatic, aching power, and may well be the most sublime of Spielberg’s entire career. Then the long-awaited American military operation by air interrupts the closing of the paean, when planes descend close to the ground to unleash a hail of bullets and grenade-like explosions that causes destruction and death. Jim races to the top of one building to play cheerleader to a P-51 Mustang that glides by his vaunted perch. The pilot even waves at Jim in an arresting slow-motion sequence that progresses with a spiritual intensity. The passage is simultaneously terrifying and awe-inspiring, and is aided immeasurably by John Williams’ choral underpinning that captures the austerity of a life-altering moment. While Jim temporarily salutes his potential rescuers and military allies in defiance of Dr. Rawlins’ orders in behalf of his safety, he joins in short order a mass exodus from the camp that the fleeing Japanese have now destroyed in retaliation for the allied air strikes. Again a spiritual undercurrent rises to the surface after the ailing Mrs. Victor perishes during the perilous marathon relocation. Suddenly a blinding light appears in the sky as Jim looks down on her body. The timing suggests that heaven was granting entrance to its newest resident, but it is soon revealed the electrifying atmospheric fallout was actually caused by the allied detonation of an atomic bomb over the city of Nagasaki, many miles away.
Jim later sees his Japanese friend trying to start a plane, but it never moves off the ground. Basie nearly sacrifices Jim by asking him to set traps under the wired fences, when in reality he was having the boy explore for land mines. With the help of his Japanese friend he averts disaster, and Basie allows him to take up residence in the American barracks. Basie is nearly pummeled to death by Nagata after the officer discovers soap from his own holdings in Basie’s stash. It should also be noted -though it is inconceivable no viewer would fail to notice it- that the masculine sounding “Jim” is now the uncontested title of choice for the boy who has long since evolved from the sheltered delicacy of his early days as “Jamie” in spirit, word and deed. The transformation reaches its ultimate transcription when the young man parrots his elders by regarding his fellow (younger) British children in the camp with smug superiority.
The reunion sequence in a Shanghai orphanage brings the story full circle, and it is extraordinary moving and well earned for a director who markedly stayed clear of sugar coating in an often dark and unforgiving tale. The scene ultimately points to the irrevocable maternal bond that will render moot the physical changes brought on by nearly four years of rugged captivity. It could well be argued that Jim doesn’t grow from his harrowing experiences, yet his weathered, muddied face -his exhausted eyes alone are telling – suggest otherwise. From a young and innocent boy he has been transformed into a war-weary veteran who has seen and lived through in a few years what almost everyone else wouldn’t in a lifetime. Existing alongside death, torture and near starvation renders the boy immune to the kind of charges that Spielberg detractors would uncover in the back-together-after-a-long separation context of the denouement. The formidable years that brought the indoctrination of class condescension and entitlement have unceremoniously yielded to a four-year education that is far more soulful and all-encompassing that anything a college could have taught. Having been along for this survival-of-the-fittest term of incarceration we well know that nothing can ever be the same, not should it be. When Jim hugs his mother, and closes his eyes, he is no doubt fantasizing his wartime nightmare is nothing more than a figment of his imagination. to be sure he has attempted to eradicate his hellish recollections before, like when he bicycles around the camp after his cherished Japanese pal is slain by Basie’s men, who are returned to highjack supplies. One misreads the friend’s use of a sword to cut a mango for the famished Jim, and fires a fatal bullet. The metaphor of a floating suitcase -thrown into a lake by Jim who couldn’t manage lugging it along anymore- that provides the closing images of the film enforces what we already know about our main character’s metamorphosis.
Christian Bale’s performance as Jamie/Jim Graham is a tour de force that surely ranks among the finest childhood turns in the history of the cinema. The actor of course has made his mark commercially over the years and is known to make astounding physical sacrifices to perfect his work, but his maiden turn was a miracle of energy, forward motion, and soulful projection, progressing from a nurtured child to a teenager with full life experiences. One can readily recall Bale standing on a vehicle during the crowd evacuation, lost and terrified; his ‘Cadillac of the Sky’ excitement; his heart-breaking homage to the pilot; his frenzied camp exploits, his subdued embrace of his mother in the closing scene, and so on. This is a grand portrayal with Bale appearing in nearly all the scenes in this two-and-a-half hour film. John Malcovich is most fine as a World War II era Fagin, smooth talking, always scheming. Joe Pantoliano as Frank is splendid as the quick to unravel accomplice of Basie; Miranda Richardson is quietly resolute as the tragic Mrs. Victor; Nigel Havers tries to bring some measure of sanity to a clearly untenable situation; Misatu Ibo makes for a punishing oppressor, but he resonantly exhibits the mournful demeanor of an officer who understands that final defeat is at hand. Takataro Kataoka as Jim’s Japanese friend is presented as a kind of symbol, but the actor brings some humanity into this madness, especially in the tragic mango scene. Also qualifying as “stars” in Empire of the Sun are the paid extras from the Chinese population who were encouraged by the country’s government to participating in the making of the film during the granted three week shoot. Some of the older ones asserted they had vivid memories of the invasion and brought back some of those bewildered emotions to their extended cameos.
Spielberg’s journeyman composer John Williams, whom some consider the most successful movie maestro of all-time, wrote his most beautiful score here in a career marked by numerous legendary contributions. The spectacularly beautiful and reasonably well-known “Suo Gan” – twice spoke of earlier in the review- has the harmonic force and soaring lyricism of a church hymn; indeed that is where it is introduced in the opening scenes when young Jamie sings with a British choir. The actual soloist is James Rainbird, anchoring the Ambrosian Junior Choir. The composition serves as a melancholic aural accompaniment for the images of restlessness seen around pre-occupied Shanghai, what with the ironic implication of its simple lyrics, which translated into English implies that no harm is imminent. The choral work’s use in Empire of the Sun was stroke of genius, what with the music and lyrics’ elegiac properties. The expansive main theme is magnificent, grand and ravishing, but with an acute sense of intimacy thanks to the ecclesiastical arrangement that hearkens to a litany with the deft fusion of instrumental and choral elements. Fans of the composer should have no difficulty discerning the opening notes bear similarity to those heard in the “Over the Moon” sequence from E.T. the Extra Terrestrial. The exhilarating “Imaginary Air Battle” from the aforementioned costume party sequence incorporates sections of the main theme, especially the choral passages; the unforgettable crowd sequence – one of the best written and directed of scenes (screenwriter Tom Stoppard did some of his best work in Empire of the Sun) also contentions some harrowing music that underlines the mass hysteria that has engulfed a terrified city. The delightful “Jim’s New Life” sequence, a bouncy scherzo, heard after Jim is accepted into the Americans’ bunks is one of the only unmitigated upbeat compositions in the score; “Cadillac of the Skies” also brings together main theme elements, but it succeeds in painting a spectacular musical panorama. For many the choral “Exsultate Justi” an arrangement of a traditional Latin text serviced by a full choir, is the incontestable highlight. After his rescue Jim rides his bike ecstatically around the camp, and the piece provides musical definition to the triumph of the human spirit. Needless to say the CD is a glorious stand alone.
Then there’s Alan Davieu’s wondrous cinematography, crafted under Spielberg’s guidance. In a film far more concerned with images than with a rigid narrative arc, the work is a veritable rush of resplendent tapestries, some etched with fantastical tracking shots and goose bump-inducing zooms, but others the result of Michael Kahn’s fluid editing, like the segment near the end in the stadium, where the Japanese have stored stolen artifacts, many which are scene in a visual montage. The rich colors seen earlier at the costume party that give pictorial explication to a life of affluence are strikingly contrasted to the drab tones of a city under siege and the sordid camps that house prisoners of war. Davieu’s employment of the sun at dusk in the fighter pilot homage centerpiece is visually magisterial, but throughout the film the images are dense and suffused with depth of emotion, rarely captured this way in the cinema. Anyone who doggedly clings to the conviction that Spielberg’s style and cinematic awareness are somehow underdeveloped, need only look at Empire of the Sun, as intimate and assured an epic that has ever been made. Tragedy, heroism, resilience, coming-of-age, and transcendence are woven into a sweeping panorama that both glorifies and expands the very tenets and capabilities of the cinema.
Sensational review Sam. I’d venture to say it is as awe-inspiring as the subject it treats. You are constantly raising the bar. I always thought Empire of the Sun was Spielberg’s most underrated film, though it seems in more recent years most are issuing the highest praise for it. As you say it is a visual experience, an epic tone poem that contains the full range of human emotions. It seems Bale can never get enough plaudits for what he accomplishes. Typically your discussion of the score is extraordinary. You are making me what to watch it again!
Awesome comment Peter! Deeply appreciated my friend! I concur that EMPIRE OF THE SUN was always underrated, but as you astutely note times are changin! The tone poem suggestion is a sound one too! Bale’s work is unsurpassed in his career methinks.
Beautiful review. In 1987 I chose Bale for my Favorite Actor of the year for the film. I knew he was the real deal even then.
I’m in complete agreement Brian! It was the best performance of that year! I’m delighted we both adore this monumental film.
My Sr yr English teacher showed us this as an example of existentialism.existentialism. Always liked it. The other film he showed was Apocalypse Now.
Great show to bring in the existential elements Tom, thanks for the great anecdote. As a teacher myself when it released I used it most effectively. APOCALYPSE NOW is of course another masterpiece.
An impassioned piece, Sam — quite extraordinary. You make me want to rush out and watch the movie Right Now!
I can’t thank you enough for that John! Deeply appreciated my friend! I do hope we can compare notes on this film in the future. I’d wager it will work exceptionally well for you!
Tremendous review of a film that gets better with every viewing.
Thanks so much Dennis–you and I have a “history” with this film, that’s for sure!
Well, I love the film. It was Spielbergs first true sign of cinematic maturity after years of youth oriented adventure films. The Color Purple attempted to break Spielberg into the adult world of filmmaking, but he seemed too overwhelmed by the task of getting serious to fully hone in on Alice Walkers metaphors and civil messages. That film suffered from the director retracting when his confusion forced him back into the same kind of frenetic energy that was a staple for films like Jaws and Raiders of the Lost Ark. Empire of the Sun not only shows Spielberg honing in on emotional maturity, but you can feel he’s holding back on his knee-jerk involuntary want to blow the whole thing up with over-the-top set pieces that would have been easier for him but would have flashwn in the face of the morality play that is the key to this epic film. Empire of the Sun paved the path for films like Lincoln, Saving Private Ryan and, most especially, his masterwork, Schindlers List. My first viewing of Empire of the Sun, in a theatre during its initial release, was one of both shock, cause I never imagined a film like this from this director, and awe because it was so well done and thought out. There was a kind of mature clarity to Empire of the Sun I think none of us were expecting. Thus, making it all the more important for us to see. The “Cadillac of the Sky” moment is one if the greatest single sequences Spielberg ever committed to film and, easily, one of the defining visual moment in American cinema for the 80’s….
Absolutely splendid continuation here Dennis! I couldn’t agree with you more on the Cadillac of the Sky segment. It is still enthralling after all these years!
Beautiful review, beautifully written and indeed a beautiful film. I loved reading this, thank you.
Thanks so much for the “beautiful” words Jarie! Yet again we are on the same page with a film!
An astonishing review that held me riveted on each word. Insights flow from your pen as infectiously as the images from Spielberg’s camera. I too was bowled over by Bale’s performance and Williams’s musical score. Hard to believe anyone couldn’t see the genius with this immediately. I voted for this on my ballot. Just brilliant, Sam!
Frank, I know well you supported this film, and much appreciate the great conversation we have shared in assessing it over the years! Many thanks for the exceedingly kind words my friend.
Sam, this is one of my husband Marc’s favorite movies! Who would have thought Christian Bale would become of the most popular and talented Hollywood actors? But we were given able hint with the remarkable performance he turned in as a prisoner of war.
I can understand why everyone is praising your review. It is brilliant.
I hear ya Celeste! Few realized at the time (1987) that Bale was primed to become one of the most hard-working and talented of actors. As you say it should have been clear enough. Many thanks for the very kind words my friend!
Pretty epic summary here Sam. Great work and of course your analysis of the music is spot on. I never knew you viewed this one so highly. I’ve seen it many times, especially when I was much younger and liked it a great deal. It’s a fascinating and moving portrait for sure and definitely deserving of a slot on this countdown. I should revisit this one at some point, because like I said it’s been many years since I’ve seen it.
Jon, it has indeed been a huge favorite since the 1987 release, and for me it deserved a much higher finish on this countdown. Still it showed up to the party and and well warranted a very close look. I’d love to talk to you about the film after you do watch it again my friend. Many thanks!
Your review is a tour de force. I haven’t seen this film since the early 90’s, but my opinion is that it is one of the greatest war films. Bale in remarkable. An assault on the senses that leaves one drained. I’ll agree it is one of the best Spielbergs.
Thanks so much for the exceedingly kind words Tim! Glad you mentioned that EMPIRE is as much a war film as it is a film about childhood. I suspect it will do well when we embark on that project, tentatively next year. Great point about Bale and the assault on the senses!
It will make my war films ballot without any doubt Sam.
Aye, mine too Tim! 🙂
Sam, you certainly make a persuasive case for the greatness of this film. Having never been much of a Spielberg fan, I’m afraid I’ve never seen this one. After reading your impassioned celebration, I most certainly will have to seek it out.
Duane, I do greatly respect your sentiments. Spielberg is not everyone’s cup of tea to be sure. But as Andrew Sarris noted in his spectacular praise for the film, he was unprepared for the soulful experience of EMPIRE, from a director whom he had previous issues with. Hence, I’d be more than a little eager to know how you respond to it. Thanks as ever for the very kind words my friend!
David Lean was supposed to direct this but Spielberg directed it as Lean would’ve probably directed. This is possibly the best film by Spielberg, at least in my opinion. This and ‘The Duel’ are the reasons why I like Spielberg
Indeed Krunal. Lean felt that Spielberg was perfectly suited for this material and he yielded after he heard his American friend was hot to trot on it. I am thrilled to hear you think it may be Spielberg’s best film, as I have thought in those precise terms for years. Many thanks!