There have been a number of films in recent years tackling the Rape of Nanking (apparently even Zhang Yimou and Christian Bale are getting in on the action), and it’s been hard to review them, as the enormity of the crime they depict is breathtaking -- obliterating any attempt at critical evaluation. In some ways, The City of Life and Death takes things even further in that direction. For all its aesthetic flourishes and epic scope, there’s a strange asceticism to Lu Chuan’s drama that feels right: Its refusal to treat us to traditional narrative almost seems to bring us closer to the madness we’re watching onscreen.
