Decoded

.

VERDICT:  Popular director Chen Sicheng brings Mai Jia’s bestseller ‘Decoded’ to the screen in a wildly imaginative if often confusing genre-buster that co-stars John Cusack as a brilliant mathematician pitted against his even more brilliant Chinese pupil.

How many ambitious filmmakers have attempted to delineate the human mind onscreen in all its conscious/unconscious, dream/reality complexity, only to be shot down in flames? Rare is the Spike Jonze able to create an imaginative world inside the protagonist’s head with the cleverness and tongue-in-cheek appeal of Being John Malkovich. Actor John Cusack, who costarred in that 1999 satiric fantasy, reappears in the unexpected guise of a mathematical genius in 1944 Nanjing, China, pitting his mind against that of his spectacular Chinese pupil Jinzhen in a military race to crack the mother of all codes, which if solved would radically change the world’s political chessboard. Does it sound like a big ask for one film? Decoded, step up to the plate.

There is actually much to enjoy in this energetic two-and-a-half hour attempt to show two great minds in conversation, reflecting off each other. But its multiple characters and non-stop dialogue create a narrative jumble at the beginning that literally requires deciphering. A real genre-bender, it is spiced with dazzling computer graphics in heart-pumping dream sequences, which are blended into the thriller-type tale of an orphan who grows up in wartime China and progresses to an “unsung hero” in a cloak-and-dagger Cold War. There’s truly never a dull moment in this adaptation of a novel by top-selling Chinese author Mai Jia, and director Chen Sichung, known for his hugely successful Detective Chinatown franchise, is up to the challenge of genre-mashing that the story demands.

One unwelcome production requisite seems to be a pious coating of patriotism that feels wholly out of place whenever it pops up, rather ruining the film’s ironic take on the robotic uniformed military. When a reliable character like Jinzhen’s self-appointed guardian Prof. Rong (an impeccably elegant and in-control Daniel Wu) starts wistfully rambling on about the meaning of the word “country” as defending the people within its borders, one tends to tune out. All this leads to the film’s happy ending; namely (no spoiler here), China’s detonation of its first atomic bomb in 1964.

The story is anchored in the mind of Jinzhen, who we meet as a ruffled waif living in a dark, immense room packed with cultural symbols. This is where the professor, who is a distant relative, finds him after the death of his first teacher-discoverer, the unseen Franz Auslander. Taking the gifted boy home, Rong introduces him to his wife and daughter and waits for his promise to bloom in the coming years. But times flies and soon Jinzhen is a nerdy young man bullied by his classmates at an elite school. There Cusack finally makes his appearance as the Cambridge-educated Polish emigré Jan Lisiewicz, a spacy-brilliant math teacher who likes to propose unsolvable equations to stimulate the class. Jinzhen, in a typical burst of anti-social behavior, throws himself at the blackboard and begins to scribble away while the prof is still musing on math and the universe. After a squabble, Lisiewicz realizes the boy is a genius and humbly asks Jinzhen to allow him to be his mentor.

Chess games follow. Then history pulls them apart

It’s 1954 when cinematographer Yu Cao revs up the atmospheric night photography of old Nanjing for the introduction of two mysterious military men. These self-described Communist patriots pressure Lisiewicz to turn his formidable brain to code-breaking a crucial telegram, an act that “would save many lives.” Though the prof adamantly refuses, claiming to be apolitical, young Jinzhen (Liu Haoran, the star of Detective Chinatown) jumps at the chance – despite Lisiewicz’s stern warning to steer clear of cracking ciphers, as they are the road to madness. As things turn out, this is a Cassandra’s warning that neither one of them heeds, and it turns out to be all too true.

Cusack disappears for a long stretch while Jinzhen is inducted by the military leader Zheng (a memorable Chen Daoming) into “Area 701”, a state-run military camp in the woods that is to young Chinese code-breakers what Red Sparrow’s school was to Russian sexpionage aspirants. A sea of nerdy faces listens to propaganda bulletins for an hour every morning, then sets to work cracking a practice cipher. Suffice it to say, Jinzhen’s solution is masterful and earns him a promotion to the camp’s elite area, where he overcooks his mind on the Purple Code, used by America to help Taiwan and deposed Chinese president Chiang Kai-shek. Although this part of the film owes a lot conceptually to The Imitation Game (2014) about English math genius Alan Turing and the British team that broke the German Enigma code during WW2, its Chinese flavor is quite unique. And, of course, here the tables are turned and the audience is put in the position of rooting against the Americans and Brits.

The main point, however, is that Jinzhen is going over the edge into mental derangement. As a child he learned to use his dreams to solve problems, and now they are nightmares which offer precious clues. The first dream sequence is the most striking and original, a vision of riding a brightly lit, spinning Ferris wheel which becomes three interlocking wheels, like a coding device. This dazzling image strikes just the right note of fantasy and wonder to suggest how the unconscious mind works to solve problems. In another superbly animated scene, Jinzhen dreams he is running through a maze whose high concrete walls are closing in on him.

In yet another dream, the Beatles’ song “I Am the Walrus” is visualized in a truly frightening way (“Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” is heard elsewhere.) This glimpse of rock ‘n roll music in early 1960s China is like a fresh wind blowing into the future, certainly an improvement over the overly-present orchestral score that adds a leaden note of convention to a resonant soundscape. But Cao Yu’s versatile camerawork, Han Zhong and Ma Xiaofei surprise-filled art direction and the immersive editing by Tang Hongjia keep attention focused on the screen and story.

The cast works smoothly together, with Liu Haoran and Cusack (who oddly intones a flawless American accent throughout, despite Liseiwicz’s Polish background) bridging their cultural and political differences in an inspired closing shot.

Director, producer: Chen Sicheng
Screenwriters: Chen Sicheng, Christopher MacBride, based on a novel by Jia Mai
Cast: Liu Haoran, John Cusack, Chen Daoming, Daniel Wu, Yu Feihong, Ren Luyao, Chen Yusi, Wang Yutian
Cinematography: Cao Yu
Editing: Tang Hongjia
Art directors: Han Zhong, Ma Xiaofei
Costume design: Chen Dian, Li Zhou
Music: Lorne Balfe, Kevin Riepl
Sound: Huang Zheng, Zhang Jian
Production companies: CMC Pictures, As One Productions, Beijing Happy Pictures
World sales: CMC Pictures
In Chinese, English
Venue: Cairo International Film Festival
156  minutes