The life story of Pu Yi, who ascended the throne of China at the age of three, and was eventually deposed, is told in flashback during his detention and "reeducation" at a prison camp in the 1950s.
In this story Bertolucci found both a match for his political and humanist concerns, and an outlet for his desire to work on an epic scale. His recreation of the Forbidden City, with its archaic pageantry and poisonous insulation, is awesome in its meticulous detail, and its flow of imagery and color. The bright reds in the scenes of childhood form a meaningful contrast with the drab grays and blues of the scenes in the prison.
More important than the film's formal techniques, however, is its use of the epic form to portray an unusual vantage point on modern history. Pu Yi represents the ancient ways, the heirarchy that had ruled for centuries, but which was already on the way out at the time of his birth. He thus stands at an ironic crossroads, a figure stuck in the past through no choice of his own, literally imprisoned by his own rule as emperor, and - despite an urge to escape to the outer world - mentally imprisoned as well. The emperor is really a pawn, and later, by his own tragic choice, he becomes a puppet of the Japanese. The film thus displays the spectacle of modern history from the point of view of a supposed leader, which is in fact the point of view of an almost passive observer swept along by the tide, just as millions of victims were swept along by the murderous forces let loose in that deadly 20th century. The personal story of Pu Yi, emperor, reflects the pathos of an agonized, powerless witness.
John Lone plays the adult Pu Yi with a fragile, tentative sort of dignity. We can see the young man struggling to maintain the pretence of power even to himself. The later scenes in Manchuria, when he has fooled himself into reprising the role of emperor with Japanese support, are heartbreaking. Slowly it dawns on him that he has chosen complete ruin for his lot. In the role of the empress, Joan Chen expertly portrays the transformation from loving hearted girl to bitterly disillusioned woman. Peter O'Toole lends his arch, amusing English manner to the role of the Emperor's tutor Johnson. His performance is hypnotic, which is not all to the good, actually, since he tends to overwhelm the other actors.
Success sometimes has a way of inspiring scepticism. The Last Emperor ended up winning nine Academy Awards, including best picture and director, and one of the unexpected results of this is that the film gained the stuffy aura of respectability. More than one critic has complained that the title character is too passive, as if that wasn't exactly the point. Admittedly, Bertolucci is missing a certain something - I am tempted to call it "soul" for lack of a better word - that would deepen his film and allow the elements to cohere in a way that really strikes to the heart of the viewer. But rather than wish that the director had genius in addition to talent, I choose to appreciate what he did attain - a remarkable portrait of the world from the point of view of greatness grown ineffectual. In a sly sort of way, the film knows that the individual nowadays, faced with the nightmare of history, would most likely wish for the same thing as the emperor turned humble gardener - to be left in peace.
