Please Approve: Let the Chinese Save the World

Protest, protest, protest — if there were any nation to protest the American ideology in “Pacific Rim,” it should be Japan first of all.

The Japanese girl in the film is pockmarked; although she is introduced as “the most intelligent person here” when making her first appearance, we see much more of her frailties in the movie. When the monsters attack Japan and the streets are in pandemonium, all the girl retains is the knowledge of how to weep helplessly, suggesting that in the face of a crisis, the Japanese military is not strong enough to withstand a single blow.

When the monsters try to shove the girl into their gaping maws, the heaven-sent weapon is an African-American soldier. He single-handedly operates an immense and fierce mecha, pacifying the deeply entrenched monsters in merely a few rounds. Emerging from inside the mecha, a radiant glow encircles the crown of his head. The Japanese girl, representing the Japanese nation, looks up in admiration at the hero who rescued her.

If you believe in the messages the film sends — that Americans are busy rescuing and Hong Kong’s people are busy using the corpses of the monsters to make their fortunes, belittling China’s image — then American scientists also have reason to protest: The two American military nuclear scientists in the movie look repulsive, their behavior is deranged and most of the time, they are disgracing themselves. Their level of research and dissection of the monsters cannot even compare to that of the Hong Kong workers, who dismember the monsters to make money.

The British of course can also protest. Why does this military campaign not include any British people? More appalling yet is that the black actor portraying the lead soldier is originally an Englishman.

Deciding to use a critical eye on this movie — which The New York Times called a “cartoon movie” — really, anyone could get angry.

Hollywood is all about the future. The future is an unknown — one may imagine it however one wants, as long as one justifies oneself. Why are these Hollywood directors’ imagined futures all so terrible? It is either occupation by evil alien forces trying to enslave the earth or that the earth has become totally barren and the human race cannot get by. Even if well-meaning aliens or monsters do not come to invade the earth, half of the people will use brutal methods to rule over the other half.

This is a simple principle of drama: Because currently the earth is considered safe and tranquil overall, dramatic conflict can only shape itself in contrast to this reality. This is basically the same reasoning found in the maxim “if a dog bites a man, it’s not news; if a man bites a dog, then it’s news.”

In “Skyfall,” British military intelligence is reduced to shambles; in “2012,” the White House falls to the enemy; in “Olympus Has Fallen,” terrorists seize the White House; in “Independence Day,” the White House is simply blown up. After 9/11, the fall of the twin towers became a very serious subject matter, or a topic for documentaries, because the twin towers really did fall, but the White House and MI6 are both alive and well, so blowing them up in movies is simply entertainment material.

When Speaking of ‘Rescue,’ Please First Ask Who ‘Destroyed’

Why is it always Americans saving the world? It is simple — these are American movies.

If it were a Chinese movie, then the ones saving the world would absolutely be Chinese people. Can we make a “saving-the-world” movie? Theoretically, it is not feasible because in order to “save” the world, one must first “destroy” it — this would involve the problem of who to make come destroy it ….

We could make aliens or monsters come and destroy the world, but if the audience really believes there are aliens and monsters, what then? We could make evil forces destroy it, but should evil forces not be throttled in the cradle before they can even make an appearance? We could let humans destroy themselves. China’s movies would probably make the Chinese people play this part — in movies, we ourselves concede to the destruction of the earth, but are we able to provide this pretext for our own discredit? If we make Americans, Brits or Russians come and destroy the world, will it not influence our relations with these other nations?

To let natural disasters come and destroy the world seems like a way to avoid blaming anyone, but would it be not revealing the untimeliness of our early warning mechanisms that we cannot protect people’s property in advance? The rumors of 2012 have already passed by, so how can movies manufacture new panics?

What to do? Making anyone out to be a destroyer is an offense. Fine, then “futures” in movies will merely consist of living peacefully and working happily: It can only be more beautiful. But the problem is, if there is seemingly no great disparity between “futures” in movies and reality, why would the audience want to spend tens of dollars to go to the theater and see such an overly familiar sort of future?

Facing this unsolvable issue, it seems our movies must abandon the “future.”

Why are the majority of heroes in movies Americans? Because American filmmakers dare establish the “enemy.”

Perhaps this enemy is one’s own people. Batman’s Gotham is believed to be the epitome of New York City — there, the police officers are corrupt, crooked officials are able to operate unhindered and the only success is the billionaire with too much money and nowhere to spend it, becoming Batman at night to save the people of his city.

The enemy is often also the Russians or Afghans. They smuggle arms, manufacture nuclear weapons, kidnap the president. The FBI, CIA, presidential bodyguards — these half-fact, half-fiction secret departments — their mode of operation must be vastly different from reality.

Can we establish a fictional enemy in our movies? It seems impossible: We are peace-loving and advocate peaceful problem resolution.

China’s Jing Ke is publicly acknowledged as a hero. He may have enemies. The formidable and violent King of Qin, he is the complete historical enemy. The Monkey King is a hero. He may have enemies — the whole land is filled with monsters waiting to attack. Plus, they are all very ferocious and strong. This is also a perfectly complete mythology.

Touching upon another dramatic problem, heroes need to have foils. Evil forces are so powerful; heroes likewise need to be strong. The Monkey King fought many monsters. How many of their names can you blurt out? The skeleton demon certainly numbers among them because the Monkey King had to fight it three times before bringing it down.

Heroes need to be outstanding, and others must hide in the background. Sherlock Holmes is legendary because of his foil: With the incompetent police force in the background, the hobbyist detective has no choice but to come out and help the police wipe their own butts.

This is a problem of drama: Who can emerge as the enemy for the artistic works of our age? Criminals are a good choice, but can we make criminals too powerful? The answer shifts, becoming a tough problem that must be solved through dramatic works.

We similarly look forward to establishing a world-class Chinese hero. We hope to export China’s system of values and hero ideology to other countries via artistic forms. However, we must first resolve these “nondramatic” troubles.