Director Report Card: Steven Spielberg (1987)

13. Empire of the Sun

By the last third of the eighties, Steven Spielberg was not just a director but an industry onto himself. Spielberg was already producing his friends' movies before the previous decade was over. In 1981, Amblin Productions – the company Spielberg created in the late sixties to produce his own films – released its first movie that he didn't direct, forgotten John Belushi vehicle "Continental Divide." As the decade went on, Spielberg had almost as much success as a producer as he did as a director. He shepherded blockbusters like "Poltergeist," "Gremlins," "Back to the Future," and "An American Tail." Amblin had even begun to work on television, with "Amazing Stories." In 1985, Spielberg's incredible success gave him a chance to work with one of his heroes. David Lean, whose "Bridge on the River Kwai" inspired young Steven, was attached to direct an adaptation of "Empire of the Sun." Spielberg loved J.G. Ballard's autobiographical novel, about growing up as an English boy in Japanese-occupied China, and agreed to produce it. Spielberg was so devoted to the material that, after Lean ultimately passed on the project, he took up the directorial reigns himself. "Empire of the Sun" would become his 1987 release. 

In 1863, British and American forces created The Shanghai International Settlement within China. Though under Chinese sovereignty, the British sought to recreate all the comforts of home deep within China. This is where Jamie Graham, a quizzical ten-year-old British boy with a fascination with airplanes, grows up with his aristocratic family. The Settlement was largely untouched by the mayhem of the Sino-Japanese War until December of 1941. After the bombing of Pearl Harbor, the Japanese army occupy the Settlement and officially bring it to an end. Jamie is separated from his family and is soon homeless in the contested area. Befriending American drifters, "Jim" willingly gives himself up to the Japanese army. He waits out the rest of the war in the harsh conditions of an internment camp, seeing more death and destruction than any boy should but maintaining his dreams of flight. 

“Empire of the Sun” is, most often, classified as a story about the loss of innocence. At the beginning of the story, Jamie lives a life of privilege. He loses that shortly after the occupation begins, being forced to scavenge for food and water in abandoned mansions. He's attacked and witnesses acts of cruelty after being separated from his parents. Once he winds up in the prison camp, the boy's abrupt transition into adulthood is complete. This is symbolized in the way his name changes. He's "Jamie" in the earlier scenes, among his childhood home. He becomes "Jim" while living on the streets, a shorter and tougher sounding name that marks the change he's experienced. The safer, protected world of his younger years is torn away and he has to learn to survive in a far harsher world. 

As much as it’s fair to characterize “Empire of the Sun” as a story about a boy forced to grow up fast, it’s also a film about how dreams can survive even the harshest of conditions. Jamie loves airplanes. His room is decorated with models of planes. He frequently plays with a little miniature plane. A key sequence has him discovering a down Japanese jet and climbing inside the cockpit. This fascination persists even as he’s introduced to the hardships of the occupation. He bonds with a Japanese youth who also has a toy plane. As American forces bomb the camp near the end, he excitedly points out the exact models of planes. A very important scene has him getting close to a Japanese Zero for the first time. The boy feels an almost spiritual connection with planes. It’s symbolic, of course, of his desire to fly away from his current difficulties. Yet it also represents a childlike longing for a fantastical dream. No matter how harsh the conditions Jim lives through are, his heart is not truly hardened because he can still hold onto that sense of wonder.

That element, holding onto a sense of childish whimsy during even the harshest of experiences, is what most links “Empire of the Sun” to Spielberg’s other films. In some ways, this one feels like a companion piece to “E.T.” Both are coming-of-age movies. The angle is very different. Elliot is a lonely kid who comes out of his shell. Jamie Graham is a slightly spoiled brat, a very privileged young man, who learns the hard way what the real world is like. A scene where he chastises a Chinese servant after the occupation begins, just to get a slap to the face in response, sums up that arc up. “Empire of the Sun” is also a little thornier than “E.T.,” for obvious reasons. A key scene has Jim spying on his American friend as he prepares to make love to a woman, a good illustration of the budding interest in sex and romance boys that age are starting to experience. Ultimately, this is still a story of growing up, a universal theme that resonates through historical fiction and tales of aliens.

The war time setting does provide an inevitable tension to the story. Shortly after fleeing his childhood home, Jamie is accosted on the street by a thief. His attempts to surrender himself to the Japanese brings with it a lot of uncertainty. Once inside the camp, the various attempts to escape up the suspense considerably. A well-executed moment has the boy hiding in the tall grass as a Japanese officer watches near-by. The fear of living under the strict, violent Japanese military adds a sense of unease to much of the movie's back-half. These are the moments when "Empire of the Sun's" debt to David Lean become most clear. Spielberg's sentimental side might've increased throughout the eighties but his ability to pull off a rattling suspense sequence never left him.

"Empire of the Sun" is certainly home to several spellbinding sequences. The best occurs early on, when Jim comes across that airplane. The editing switches into high-gear as the boy imagines himself as a heroic fighter pilot, the camera swooping around him. This proceeds an incredible reveal, that an embankment of Japanese soldiers is just over a hill right next to the plane. This is one of those moments that are so spectacularly framed, you wonder how they pulled them off. Not to mention a clever visualization of how unaware all the white gentry in the Settlement are of the danger right outside their community. That kind of bravado filmmaking is on display all throughout "Empire of the Sun." Such as when Jim wanders through the empty, abandoned mansion that was his home. Or a moment near the end, where the exhausted and worn boy sees a heavenly halo of light in the sky. There's a sense of subtly and control visible in other scenes, such as when a dead girl's eyes twitch as Jim attempts to revive her. If these episodes are inspired by real events from Ballard's life, and we can assume many of them are, the film makes sure we understand how important they are.

And it's only natural that the movie is fucking gorgeous too. Allen Daviau is back at cinematographer and he guarantees that this motion picture is truly a thing of beauty. The scene where Jim, in the empty mansion, steps away from the dusty floor, only for the footprints left behind to be blown away, is going to stick in my memory for a while. So will that fateful meeting with the Zero jet, backlit by sparks and sunlit, the Japanese soldiers rendered as silhouettes behind the boy. That sort of golden hour photography shows up throughout the film but not just because it looks nice. The sun overhead brings the title, and the Japanese flag to mind, as a force always hanging over the heroes' heads. It's not a mistake that the most victorious moments in the story, when part of the camp goes up in a glorious fireball, occurs during the coolness of the night. 

As was the case with "The Color Purple," you do wonder if sentimental Spielberg was the right person to tell this particular story. This is a story of war and imprisonment that still manages to contain itself within a PG rating. There are times throughout the film where you feel like the story is holding back, resisting the need to inflict anything too intense or horrible on its young protagonist. And maybe that's how Ballard experienced things. I haven't read the book, which is itself a fictionalized recounting of events, so I can't say for sure. A careful course must always be charted when depicted other nations during wartime, least other cultures be reduced to a monstrous other. The Japanese military is shown to be brutal here. Yet, considering the sheer scale of the atrocities the Japanese army committed in China during the war, I sometimes felt like "Empire of the Sun" was being too soft on them. There's just this unavoidable feeling throughout the film that maybe someone willing to bring a slightly harder edge to the material might've elevated it from the status of pretty good to truly great. 

While “E.T.” gifted the world with Drew Barrymore, Spielberg's next coming-of-age movie would similarly launch the career of a beloved performer. Thirteen year old Christian Bale stars as Jim. It's admittedly amusing how recognizable Bale was, at even such a young age. I don't just mean his physical appearance. The intensity the actor would later bring to parts like Patrick Bateman or Bruce Wayne is evident here. He was already shedding weight, to play an emaciated prison camp inmate. Bale is clearly committed to the performance, taking us on Jim's emotional journey from boy to man. His tearful monologue, about how he no longer remembers his mother's voice, probably would've been mawkish in the hands of most child actors yet Bale makes it properly heart-wrenching.

A strong collection of character actors is assembled to support the young Bale. John Malkovich and Joe Pantoliano are especially memorable as the American expats that befriend the young Jamie. Malkovich, wearing a disguising hat and glasses in his early scenes, is still immediately recognizable thanks to his distinctive voice. Malkovich walks a fine line between being a likable mentor figure while also having the slightly edgy, unnerving energy that the actor excels at so well. Pantoliano allows his anxious side to show as Malkovich's companion, someone far more shaken up by the grave circumstances. Masato Ibu is also the right level of intimidating as the sergeant who oversees the camp. 

By this point in their careers, the films of Steven Spielberg and the music of John Williams was just about inseparable. Expectedly, Williams contributes another elegant, meaningful score. Children's choral music, sometimes incorporating the Chinese language, is sprinkled throughout a score that features a lot of the rising brass, symphonic strings, and emotional bombast we've come to expect from the composer. Nobody captures the wonder of childhood in music the way Williams does. Yet that choral music brings with it a feeling of melancholy, doing a perhaps better job of suggesting the loss of innocence then the actual film does at times. Fitting its setting, there's an undercurrent of danger to the music here, often provided by appropriately militaristic melodies. Williams' music does a great job of gifting the film all the emotions it needs and invoking the story's location without resorting to cliches. 

In the arc of Steven Spielberg's overall career, “Empire of the Sun” is inevitably regarded as an overlooked gem. The film didn't make as much money as his action/adventure spectacles, though it seems unlikely it was ever meant to. The film was warmly received by most critics. It eventually earned six Academy Award nominations, mostly in the technical categories, but wouldn't walk away with any wins. Compared to the crowd pleasing blockbusters that made his reputation and the more beloved serious dramas he would make later on, “Empire of the Sun” definitely feels less well discussed. While the director's sentimental streak ultimately holds the movie back, it's still a handsomely produced picture with a poignant script and some strong performances. [Grade: B]