If
you haven’t heard of this movie, don’t feel bad. Part of my affection for it
may be the fact that it’s one of Steven Spielberg’s little-known masterpieces, hiding
in the dusty corners of his 50-film history. It is based on J.G. Ballard’s novel Empire of the Sun, a semiautobiographical story of his childhood in China. Ballard’s stand-in is Jamie, a spoiled young Brit
living in the wealthy International Settlement, the only sector of Shanghai
which the Japanese have not occupied. When, after Pearl Harbor, the Japanese
invade, Jamie and his parents are separated, and he is thrown into a world for
which he is totally unprepared. For him, this is the real start of World War
II.
I
think Empire of the Sun is a movie
that splits opinions. A lot depends on expectations. It might style itself as a
historical epic, or a commentary on war or race or other abstractions, but it’s
really about a little boy. It is not plot-driven but character-driven, like Lawrence of Arabia, it is a very long,
slow film in which the plot is really the hero. If one cannot empathize with
Christian Bale’s Jamie Graham, the entire movie falls apart.
I’ve
never had trouble with that. Jamie is, to me, a fascinating character. He is
spirited and imaginative, with a comic, conceited naivety that only children
with posh English accents can achieve. Thirteen-year-old Christian Bale is
extraordinary, throwing his entire heart into the character and delivering one
of the greatest child performances of all time.
