Review of The Flowers of War (2011) by Kai Z — 04 Jun 2014

Historically inaccurate, baffles the mind in how awfully senseless it is. Stomach-churning war sentimentality combined with trauma porn - goes great together like opera and brutal rape. Let's all celebrate Christian Bale's white heroism for saving vestal virgins. This movie has the most whorephobic depiction of sex workers ever: it's the worst kind of whorephobia that masquerades as compassion for prostitutes, all the while pissing all over them.

The hookers must wake up extra-early every morning to put on all that makeup and iron their hair into perfect curls - because naturally, hookers all just wake up looking like porcelain dolls, and would actually need the help of a mortician to restore a plain-faced innocence: the just-prayed, nunnery look that all hookers secretly crave.

Right before they sacrifice themselves - that's when hookers are most sympathetic: when they're about to die. The only thing I learned from this movie is that rape is the only heroic redemption for being a sex worker. All the courtesans are portrayed as dumb, selfish, greedy, cowardly bitches, except for the trafficking victim who was raped at age 13. She's good because she was "never meant to be that kind of a girl." And because she reads. Whoa! Imagine a hooker who reads. Blows my mind.

I can't think of a worse movie I've ever seen in my life, and I've seen a lot of movies.