ArcherWithASilverBow

At the time of my writing this review, The Odyssey by Cristopher Nolan is being mercilessly shoved down the throats of audiences around the world. There is so much hype in every type of media, old and new, that, short of living on a desert island, it is impossible to escape or ignore. Predictably, the film itself is a heavily Americanized affair, with little to offer other than pop psychology, high moral ground and some spectacular CGI. The nominal hero, in particular, is as about as different as he can be from the legendary Homer's hero. Instead of a silver-tongued master strategist, whose unparalleled wit and cunning indiscriminately won both battles and hearts, and whose unshakable sense of purpose could get temporarily sidetracked only by his own thirst for knowledge and unbeatable zest for life, Hollywood served us with yet another strong-and-silent type, a dour six-pack warrior riddled with moral pomposity and PDST.

It is therefore with particular delight and surprised joy that I found some of the classical Greek hero's more compelling attributions in the character of Gu Pingyuan, the protagonist of the Legend of the Magnate. Not unlike the original Odysseus, Gu Pingyuan is something of a reluctant hero. Although his personal ambitions and desires are modest in scope, he keeps getting sidetracked and thrown in the midst of high-stakes conflicts of every kind mostly because his unique capacity to solve them is patently obvious both to him and to everyone around him. His adventures take him to many places in China, central and off the map, and lead him to interact with people from all walks of life. (Humans only, though; no witches, gods or giants, at least not of the literal kind.)

That being said, I don't wish to push the comparison with Odysseus too far. For all the similarities between the two heroes - resourcefulness, eloquence, resilience - Gu Pingyuan is pointedly and quintessentially Chinese. His story unfolds in a specific time (the late Qing dynasty), in specific places across China (magnificently filmed on location) and in a specific social context (the four-class system on its last legs). His adventures may be larger than life, but they remain firmly grounded in the historical realities of the 19th century China.

Moreover, Gu Pingyuan is a master strategist who makes deals, not war. In this, he is the very opposite of any aristocratic epic hero. With his plebeian down-to-earth common sense, he loathes armed conflict and its devastating consequences for common people, himself included. He couldn't care less about conquering and vanquishing; he never seeks to crush his opponents into dust for so long as they can be reasoned with. Much like any ordinary person, all he aims for is a life of peace and prosperity. This, however, is easier said than done in a society dominated by hard power, weak institutions and systemic inequality. Born as a tea farmer, trained as a scholar, framed into exile and converted into a merchant, Gu Pingyuan is officially disgraced and socially misplaced. He can rely only on his prodigious wit to make his surroundings more livable for himself and people around him.

His quest inevitably pits him against all those who stand to profit from the imperial regime on the decline. In the course of his adventures, he gets to confront small-time local bullies, incompetent, overbearing and/or corrupt public officials, aristocrats too engrossed in petty rivalries to care about massive real-life consequences of their squabbles, disillusioned army generals, trade guilds stuck in their ways, heavyweight merchants seeking to unscrupulously hoard wealth in order to compensate for their lowly social status or their self-perceived lack of personal worth. He responds to those challenges with stratagems ingeniously designed to strike a balance between healthy self-interest and other people's needs. Nobody's perfect and everybody has their own burden to bear; the trick is to discover a mutual interest in helping each other out. Gu Pingyuan operates by managing to find common ground even with the least likely and most unlikeable of people. His business acumen stems from his extraordinary capacity to grasp different points of view and quickly come up with a deal satisfactory for most.

This emphatic, balanced and seductive approach to human dealings in general, and to business activity in particular, is systematically contrasted with uncontrolled accumulation of wealth, brutally facilitated by unfair practices and pushed beyond reason by insatiable lust for power. The clash of worldviews is the primary driving force behind the Legend of the Magnate. Its implications become more overtly political in the later part of the drama, when Gu Pingyuan is forced to try and make a stand against the infamous East India Company, the biggest predator operating in China post-Opium Wars. He marks a point: but no single individual, no matter how brilliant, ultimately stands a chance against a gargantuan corporation already monopolizing more than half of global trade and habitually backing up its business propositions with a fleet of war ships. (Especially not, it is suggested, without any support from the decadent imperial regime.) Thus, Gu Pingyuan ends his astonishing career the same way he started it - officially in disgrace - but, miraculously enough, alive and kicking, and seemingly content to keep working in line with his egalitarian values off the main stage and behind the scenes,

The Legend of the Magnate is, beyond any doubt, a high-quality drama. It is well-written, fast-paced, visually breathtaking and superbly acted by Chen Xiao in the main role and a strong ensemble cast. The show invites us to step into a meticulously conceived and vividly rendered fictional world which, for all its authenticity and rich historical detail, can feel eerily contemporary. Indeed, one would have hoped that, by 21st century, humanity would have known better than to allow its 1% hog more than half of world wealth. For anyone who feels disheartened by the current state of global affairs, Gu Pingyuan's electrifying adventures will provide much jubilant amusement without the indulgence of total escapism. The multifaceted story and its ingenious hero are bound to be thoroughly and scrumptiously enjoyed by anyone looking for intelligent entertainment.

That being said, the drama is not without its weaknesses. First and foremost, in its final episodes, the story sacrifices some of its momentum to make a didactic point: namely, that it is necessary to overcome petty internal strife and stand united against the predatory dominion of the few over the many in order to make it possible for individuals and nations to live freely, prosperously and with dignity. The lesson is delivered obliquely, with internal strife taking the form of family melodrama. The result is underwhelming. Unhinged reactions by some otherwise sensible characters are bizarrely at odds with the general no-nonsense tone of the drama. The main plot remains fascinating in terms of political economy but, with the distraction of interpersonal turmoil, the finale feels too rushed to absorb all the facts in their complexity and consequently we don't get a full sense of closure. I am always sympathetic to any egalitarian cause and, considering what China when through during the "century of humiliation", I am prepared to be more tolerant of the patriotic propaganda than usual. Nevertheless, spectators could have and should have been trusted to get the point on the need for national and human brotherhood without making it quite so obvious.

The second weak point of the drama is the romance. The Legend of the Magnate is not short on strong female characters, who are all intriguing and/or likeable in their own way. However, possibly due to censorship or self-censorship issues, Gu Pingyuan's interactions with his prospective romantic interests feel inorganic and counter-intuitive.

This is most obviously the case when it comes to Gu Pingyan's love story with the main female lead, Chang Yu'er. The girl is earnest and valiant but young and illiterate and, beyond occasionally acting as our hero's bodyguard, has very little to contribute. Moreover, while he is clearly moved by her unwavering devotion and does not find her physically unattractive, he seems reluctant to commit and only succumbs to her relentless advances after being put under severe social pressure from his business partners and allies. Settling down into a reasonably happy marriage of convenience on the grounds of mutual trust, easy familiarity and long-standing respect for the in-laws is a historically realistic choice consistent with Gu Pingyuan's values. It is the attempt to masquerade the couple's relationship as a full-blown romance, in line with modern sensibilities, that feels unconvincing and half-hearted.

Much more engaging, if equally counter-intuitive, is Gu Pingyuan's tug-of-war with the female protagonist who is clearly his intellectual counterpart. A fallen princess covertly intent on a family vendetta against the regime, Su Zixuan treats life as a game of chess where she is the queen and everybody else her pawn. With her imperious manner and her anti-imperial agenda, she makes a formidable antagonist but also an invaluable ally, always one step ahead in strategic scheming thanks to her sweeping eagle's eye perspective and intricate web of connections. Her relationship with Gu Pingyuan is remarkably complex.. An implosive compound of open rivalry, begrudging respect, uneasy admiration and breezy affection, it is evidently meant to further reinforce the didactic point about the need for national and human brotherhood/sisterhood. That is all well and good except for the fact that the two characters are not siblings. They are a man and a women who might not share the same values or personal goals, but who are so equally matched in cleverness and charisma that they don't need violines in the background to make us feel breathless with anticipation. It is little surprise, then, if Gu Pingyuan's political discussion with Su Zixuan on his wedding day feels much more passionately intense than his wedding night with his pure-hearted young bride. Enough said.

If it's any consolation for those who can't do without a classic romance, the Legend of the Magnate does have a secondary love story involving the angelic but self-assertive Gu Pingyuan's former fiancée and the devilish but honorable anti-imperial rebel army general. Their passion logically ends in tragedy and tears.

For some reviewers, the lackluster finale and/or the lukewarm main romance were reasons enough to downgrade this otherwise exhilarating drama. Objectively, I agree that the Legend of the Magnate falls a little short of being an absolute masterpiece. Subjectively, the story had me riveted in spite its imperfections. In an era when sociopathic behavior seems to be on its way to becoming a new golden standard, and when money-mad moguls seem to be increasingly invading the global public sphere - not to mention the universe itself - I find it impossible not to feel dazzled by Gu Pingyuan's radically different focus and perspective. As far as I am concerned, if we can't have more men like him in real life then, by all means, let's at least have them in legends.