I found myself in a strange relationship with this movie.  It’s a Korean film based on the classic Chinese historical novel Romance of the Three Kingdoms by Luo Guanzhong, and though I haven’t read the book, I’ve played the video game.  Koei’s classic MS-DOS-based game was one of my favorites from the 1980s, and not only have I played it multiple times, I’ve played all the characters in this movie.  Sometimes I got the feeling that Andy Lau was playing me.

(A version of the game is still available, as Dynasty Warriors: Empire.  I don’t particularly care for its blend of arcade and turn-based action, and the synth0-pop soundtrack makes me want to plunge knitting needles into my ears.)

The novel and its characters are very well-known in China— Mao supposedly identified strongly with Cao Cao, the book’s villain— and this may be problematic for the average Western viewer, who might be inclined to wonder, “Who are these Five Tiger Generals, anyway?”  I watched what I assume is the American cut— the action was very choppy, and characters (like the hero’s girlfriend) appeared meaningfully only to be promptly forgotten. Probably there’s a longer and better Chinese version out there beyond our shores.

But if you’re hip to the novel or the game or the history, or if you’re just into immense spectacle, you’ll completely groove on this.

One of the Four Heavenly Kings of Cantopop, Andy Lau (Fook Wing), plays Zhao Zilong (a historical character who is probably better known by an alternate name, Zhao Yun).  Lau is one of the great stalwarts of the age, having not only maintained his successful singing career but having acted in over 160 films, and the years have only given him a gravitas that wasn’t visible when he was a prancing young pop star.  (He and the other Hong Kong actors are dubbed into Mandarin for this film.  Not badly, but it was noticeable.)

The film opens at the beginning of the Warring States, when China had been split into three kingdoms ruled by generals.  The North is ruled by Cao Cao, whose motto is, “I would rather betray everybody than be betrayed by a single person.”  The South is ruled by General Not Appearing In This Film, a/k/a Sun Quan.  The West is ruled by the novel’s hero, Liu Bei, with the capable assistance of his sworn brothers from the Oath of the Peach-Tree Garden.

Just to make it clear who to cheer for, the good guys are all given flat helmets similar to those worn by British Tommies in the World Wars, whereas the bad guys wear the German stahlhelm.  Or maybe the filmmakers just thought of it as a Darth Vader hat.  The armor seems mostly to be Japanese, or maybe Korean.

Young Zilong joins Liu Bei’s army and makes the acquaintance of an older, wearier soldier, Luo, played by Sammo Hung (who also did the fight choreography).  Zilong’s unit is ordered to hold a fort in the desert against overwhelming odds, and Zilong distinguishes himself in a surprise night attack, killing the enemy general (though he gives the credit to his friend Luo). Zilong gets leave to go home and has a moving, unconventional romance with a lady puppeteer, who the movie promptly forgets about.

During a retreat, Zilong saves Liu Bei’s infant son, cutting his way through the whole of Cao Cao’s army and riding off with Cao Cao’s famous sword, the Quinggang.  [The historical Zilong not only did this, but rescued Liu Bei's wife as well.]  Zilong then becomes one of Liu Bei’s famous Five Tiger Generals, each of whom gets a cameo.

TWENTY YEARS OF CONSTANT WARFARE LATER, Zilong’s girlfriend has yet to make an appearance.  Liu Bei is dead and succeeded by the rather ridiculous son that Zilong rescued all those years ago.  The surviving Tiger Generals are superceded by younger men, and the kingdom decides to try one last campaign to unify China.  Except the new generals really can’t get along, no one wants to listen to Zilong, and the whole affair is a disaster.  Zilong is left to defend the same stupid desert fort that made his reputation decades before.

Cao Cao’s army is led by his granddaughter, Cao Ying (Maggie O), who I assume is fictional.  My best guess is that the filmmakers realized they’d forgotten about the film’s only female character and decided they needed another one.  Anyway, Cao Ying is a chip of the old Quinggang— she’s evil, scheming, treacherous, ingenious, ruthless, and a hell of a martial artist.  She likes to play her lyre while ordering men to their deaths.

Zilong is trying to delay the final battle in hopes that reinforcements might turn up.  Ying wants to delay the battle because, well, she’s evil, and she enjoys tormenting her helpless foe.  So there’s a good deal of sparring, verbal and otherwise, between the antagonists before Zilong orders the final, hopeless charge against the villainous army.  The relationship between the hero and the villainness is the best part of the movie.

Since this is a serious historical film set in China, there is no happy ending.  It’s simply not allowed.  [The real-life Zhao Zilong lived a long life and died in bed, rich with honors.)

The real reason to see this film is the spectacle, of which there is lots.  Also action, improbable fight scenes, and gorgeous desert scenery.  Andy Lau is very good, even if his voice is dubbed.

You might want to read the book first, just so you know what the hell is going on.

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It occurs to me that yesterday’s South Carolina primary signaled a paradigm shift in American politics.  In order to run for office, you no longer have to please the electorate.  You only have to please one person.

Your personal billionaire.

Newt Gingrich, the ethically-challenged former Speaker of the House, had been written off after his fourth-place finish in the New Hampshire primary.  But then his personal billionaire, Sheldon Adelson,wrote a $5 million check to a “super-PAC” supporting Gingrich, and Gingrich was able to place $3.5 million worth of ads within the ten days or so left before the primary.  Some of that money went into airing a 28-minute film accusing Mitt Romney of being an uncaring corporate raider out to deprive Americans of their jobs.  It didn’t matter that the film was loaded with inaccuracies.  It didn’t have to please anyone but a single person.

Newt’s personal billionaire.

Newt,  he of the Tiffany’s charge account, launched a ferocious attack on Romney and indeed on capitalism itself, and indulged in some savage race-baiting while he was at it.  (Populism at its best, we can all agree.)  And of course the noted serial adulterer agreed with his fellow Republicans about the need to defend the sanctity of marriage by depriving gays of their rights, and also agreed that pregnant rape victims should be forced (at gunpoint, I presume) to bear their rapists’ children.

I can only presume that many Republicans were deeply uncomfortable hearing Newt attack capitalism and saying some of the other stuff that he was saying.  But why should Newt care?

He only needs to please his personal billionaire.

(I should point out, before the knee-jerk indignant responses swarm in, that I don’t actually care if Newt committed adultery or not.  That was between him and Mrs. Newt.  And the other Mrs. Newt.  And the other Mrs. Newt.  What I care about is that he was banging Callista in his car in the Congressional parking lot while prosecuting Bill Clinton for getting a blow job in the Oval Office, because that speaks to the sort of person he is.)

Anyway, Newt’s ad-buying and race-baiting got him a decisive 40% of the South Carolina vote.  But even if he’d lost, why should he quit?

After all, he needs only to please his personal billionaire.

So how did American politics come to this pass?  After all, we have a law that says a candidate can only receive $5000 in contributions from a single person, and a $5 million check would seem to be somewhat in excess of that.  But thanks to one of our handy 5-4 Supreme Court decisions (Citizens United v Federal Election Commission, if you want to look it up), corporations (and unions) are now allowed to spend as much as they like, so long as it doesn’t go directly to a candidate.

And why would they give money to the candidate?  I mean, why bother?  They now have an unlimited license to spend however much money they want in direct advocacy of whatever it is they want to advocate.  Did either Adelson or Gingrich note or care that the film attacking Romney was loaded with inaccuracies?

Why should they?  Buy enough ads, you control the story.   And after the ad buys, the story wasn’t “Is Mitt Romney a heartless capitalist?”, but “How much of a heartless capitalist is he?”

(I will leave the answer to that as an exercise for the reader.)

How much is $5 million to a casino tycoon like Sheldon Adelson?  Well, he’s the 8th wealthiest American, and the 16th wealthiest person in the world.  According to one report, he makes over a million dollars per day. Buying a primary is chump change.

Now if you’ve got a billionaire behind you, why would you ever quit?  Why should any billionaire’s candidate retire from the race just because he loses some elections?  As long as your personal billionaire is willing to write checks, you can keep on chugging along.

That’s going to be a game-changer.  Every candidate with a personal billionaire can keep campaigning right up to the convention.  Or even past it, what the hell.

(And meanwhile,  while Republicans slag each other, and slag capitalism, of all things, Mr. Obama is sitting on top of a campaign war chest that may approach a billion dollars.  He’s his own personal billionaire.)

Which brings me to my main point.  Where the hell is my personal billionaire?

I mean, dude, I’m ready.  If I have a billionaire looking out after me, I’ll totally go on TV and say whatever crazy shit the billionaire wants me to say.  Why should I care what people think?

Because I’ll have my own personal billionaire.

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Happy Year 4710, the Year of the Water Dragon!

(Now where’s my red envelope?)

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If you’re beginning your writing career, or if you’d like to begin your writing career, there are any number of fine workshops that might help you on your way.

Only two of these, however, have me in them.  (And you want me in your workshop, you really do.)

One of these is Taos Toolbox, a workshop that I created.  This year I’ll be teaching with Nancy Kress (who is sublime) and special lecturer Daniel Abraham (whose sublimity may be open to question, but who is really, really smart).  The workshop will run for two weeks, June 10-23.  Short stories are welcome, but we also deal with novels.  We teach pacing and plotting, which most workshops won’t teach you (because they’re very hard to teach).

The other workshop is Clarion— or Clarion East, as it used to be called before it moved West to San Diego.  (I prefer to call it Clarion Classic.)  Clarion runs for six weeks, June 23-August 4, and the instructors will be the extremely formidable team of Jeffrey Ford, Marjorie Liu, Ted Chiang, Holly Black, Cassandra Clare, and my ownself.  (I’ll be teaching the fourth week.)

Clarion is a short story workshop, and it has an extremely good track record for turning out professional SF and fantasy writers.

Both workshops are still welcoming new applications.  For Clarion, you want to get in your application by the deadline of March 1.  For Toolbox, you should do yourself the favor of applying before February 1, because that’s when the price goes up.

So here’s a little compare-and-contrast on the two:

Length of Workshop:

Clarion: Six Weeks.

Toolbox: Two Weeks.

Faculty:

Clarion: Six Awesome Instructors

Toolbox: One Awesome Instructor, One Sublime Instructor, and One Really, Really Smart Guy.

Accommodation:

Clarion: Students share college apartments at UCSD.  Each has a single room and shares bathroom and kitchen with two other students.  Laundry facilities available.  Recreation facilities and pools available at extra charge.

Toolbox: Students share suites at the Snow Bear Inn in Taos Ski Valley.  Each student will have a private room and bath, and share a kitchen with one other student.  Private rooms available at extra cost.  Laundry facilities available.  Hot tub available.  Warning: at 10,000 feet.  There are bears.

Meals

Clarion: three meals per day at college dining facilities.  Restaurants and coffee shops within easy walking distance.

Toolbox: nine catered hot dinners, plenty of food available for students to make their own breakfasts, lunches, and snacks.  Usually a couple motor trips to local restaurants.  The lodge is a bit remote, but there are restaurants within walking distance.

Workshop Format

Clarion: Milford Workshop model of round-robin critique.  Instructors may add lectures, demonstrations, etc., depending on time and inclination.  Weekends free for writing or recreation.

Toolbox: Milford Workshop model of round-robin critique, plus two lectures or demonstrations per day.  Weekends free for writing or recreation.

Culture?  Recreation?

Clarion: dude, it’s San Diego.  Sea World, Zoo, waterfront, beaches, surfing, museums, theater, and San Diego Comicon!

Toolbox: dude, it’s Taos.  Galleries, communes, earthships, horseback riding, museums, mountain trails, hot springs, white-water rafting.

Scholarships:

Clarion: Yes.

Toolbox: Maybe, but not large.

Academic Credit:

Clarion: generally yes.

Toolbox: you’ll have to arrange this with your university.

Novels?

Clarion: no.

Toolbox: yes.

Alcohol?

Clarion: no

Toolbox: yes

Summary: Who says you have to choose?  Apply to both.  If you’re accepted by one and not the other, your future is made for you.  If accepted by both, you’re in the enviable position of being able to choose for yourself.

But the sad fact is, you’ll regret it if you don’t apply.  Go for it!

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