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There is an oft-played game around a pub table that prompts hearty debate, gleeful banter and just plain mockery. No, it’s not discovering your porn name (although that can be equally fun, even outside of college) but asking ‘dead or alive, name eight people you’d like to have a dinner with?’ After a viewing of Children of the Silk Road, you too will wish that George Hogg could pass the after dinner mints.
In his most recent on screen outing as protagonist Hogg, Jonathan Rhys Meyers has foregone the Terry de Havilland platforms and glimmering Lycra of his famed Velvet Goldmine performance in favour of tweeds and cotton. As an introduction to the scenes we are about to encounter, text floats across the screen explaining the historical context with which we are about to engage; and it’s grim.
A self-proclaimed ‘inexperienced’ journalist, Englishman Hogg wrangles his way to Nanjing in order to document the atrocities caused by the Japanese towards the native Chinese. It is upon this escapade that he encounters a Chinese revolutionary played by Yun-Fat Chow (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon), whose friendship with nurse Lee Pearson (Radha Mitchell) will ultimately confirm his fate. That fate however, is exactly what will not only test his determination, but also define him as a man.
Hence, upon Pearson’s suggestion Hogg convalesce as headmaster of a boys’ orphanage, teaching them to write, speak English, and of course the famous British sport, basketball. Although on the surface such activities may seem silly, his behaviour ultimately quashes the Lord of the Flies instinct that quite understandably took over, and he draws upon their abilities empowering each individual.
Such lessons are the very beginning, as it is resolved that the 60 orphans should traverse dangerous terrain, in order to reach safety on the outskirts of the Mongolian desert. In walking terms, that’s about a three month journey.
It’s at this juncture that I should admit to having not read the book upon which this film has been adapted. This crux raises an interesting issue, particularly in terms of truth and by consequence ‘validity’ of the story. According to the book, two major characters who are missing (including Rewi Alley who founded the school) conspired to lead the boys to safety and recruited Hogg as headmaster.
When you hear the deep, guttural no doubt American-inflected words ‘based on a true story’ reverberate on your surround sound system, you tend to think you’re in for a heartfelt movie. Equally, you don’t take it too seriously, because after all it is a film and therefore will have been through many script changes, edits and a downright culling by the time it hits the big screen – a generalisation that very often rings true. But let’s look at this as a film, independent of the book.
Jonathan Rhys Meyers has a gangly, at times effeminate demeanour that rather fits the literate beta-male Oxford graduate and is in fact a compelling aspect of his performance. The steely assistance of Mitchell’s character and Michelle Yeoh’s co-conspirator Mrs. Wang add to this tale that is both humorous and humbling. It should also be noted that the children are inherently likeable and convincing.
This picture follows a successful line of films that manage to diminish the ‘Hollywood’ predilection for sanitisation, with depictions of the war and the Orient. Both The Painted Veil and Memoirs of a Geisha encapsulate beauty on screen, whilst remaining true to the narrative and the characters – a virtue true of Children of the Silk Road. Cinematographer Zhao Xiaoding’s consistent off-centre focus not only echoes films past, but also allows for the cinema screen to expose the magnitude of the landscape.
The obvious journey metaphor applies here, that of the children along the Silk Road and Hogg’s personal development. As a story it is hugely moving, and the director’s inclusion of survivor interviews as the credits roll is a winner. Even if at times factually inaccurate, Children of the Silk Road illustrates the determination of all involved, in spite of the predicament. In times of uncertainty this is food for thought.
Credits
Director: Roger Spottiswood
Writers: James MacManus, Jane Hawksley
Cinematographer: Zhao Xiaoding
Cast: Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Michelle Yeoh, Rhada Mitchell, Chow Yun Fat
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