Let The Bullets Fly
Jiang Wen
The story: In China in the anarchic 1920s, bandit Zhang Mazi (Jiang Wen) and conman Tang (Ge You) march into Goose Town pretending to be its new mayor and his counsellor to milk the rich for the benefit of the poor. But local mobster Huang (Chow Yun Fat) stands in their way. Based on a story by Sichuan writer Ma Shitu.
This film has been a runaway success in China, beating Feng Xiaogang’s tearjerker disaster epic Aftershock (2010) to become the highest-grossing local production of all time.
What is even more impressive about its feat is that it can be seen as an attack on greedy officials when corruption continues to be a sensitive issue in China today.
At one point, Tang counsels Zhang Mazi that in order to make money as an official, he has to levy taxes on the rich first, so that the rest of the townsfolk will follow. Then he has to return the amount paid by the rich and split the money collected from the poor so that 30 per cent goes to him and 70 per cent goes to the rich.
To which Zhang retorts: “Then we’ll be collecting taxes till 2010!”
Amid comparisons of Let The Bullets Fly to classic spaghetti westerns, there has been much discussion generated among Chinese netizens because of the messages that one can read into the film.
The word for horse and shorthand for Marxism is “ma” in Chinese, so does a horse-drawn train symbolise a China that is being led by an obsolete ideology?
Since goose and the shorthand for Russia are homonyms, is Goose Town meant to point towards Soviet socialism or maybe Soviet revolution?
And what does the title, a key piece of dialogue that is repeated in the film, really mean? Who are the bullets aimed at?
But even if some of the satire and symbolism fly over one’s head, what is left is a hugely entertaining film that brings together top-notch performances, great action sequences and humour that zips and zings. Writer-director-actor Jiang Wen also has fun with the slippery nature of truth and identity and giddily piles on twist upon twist as the story unfolds.
In part because of his imposing physique, Jiang seems to have an affinity for playing characters that seem larger than life, from the wine distillery servant in Zhang Yimou’s Red Sorghum (1988) to the bandit with a heart of gold here.
He brings a glint of danger and adventure to his roles that is also sexually charged, as irresistible to Gong Li in Red Sorghum as to Carina Lau in Bullets.
At the same time, there is a deep- rooted decency and chivalry beneath his character’s swagger that makes the enigmatic Zhang such an appealing character to root for.
Jiang is well matched by Ge You who plays the wily and obsequious robbery- victim-turned-adviser to great comic effect. Yet his portrayal of Tang never feels like a caricature.
Chow Yun Fat, after more dramatic roles in recent films such as Confucius (2010) and Curse Of The Golden Flower (2006), reminds us of the comic flair he showed in films such as The Diary Of A Big Man (1988). He has some fun here in two roles: as the local mobster Huang and as the mobster’s goofy body double.
A simple dinner scene with the three men illustrates just how good the film is: Their dialogue is rich and layered and the acting is spot-on as the camera swivels about and keeps what could be a monotonous and talky sequence visually interesting. Perfectly timed gunshots further accent the scene.
As with the black-and-white black comedy Devils On The Doorstep (2000), also directed by Jiang, Let The Bullets Fly could have been leaner than its 132 minutes.
But he has such a singular and exciting vision as a film-maker that even with a sprawling two-hour-plus running time, you will not want to dodge Bullets.
(ST)