Most critics admire The Last Emperor, and the praise gathers almost entirely in one place: the look of it. The Forbidden City sequences, Vittorio Storaro’s photography, the production design and the thousands of extras are singled out again and again, and several reviews treat the film as a useful, handsome introduction to twentieth-century Chinese history. The reviews written for its later re-releases, with an extra hour restored, are noticeably warmer than those from its first run.
The reservations gather in one place too. Pu Yi is a passive figure, and many critics find the film cool and distant as a result, with spectacle standing in for sympathy. The spread is wide. The two dissenters are both from 1987: Pauline Kael in The New Yorker calls it a pageant without a protagonist, and Vincent Canby in The New York Times finds it arthritic and awkwardly built. Slant adds a further worry about an outsider’s gaze on China.
