The — Last Emperor

The Last Emperor is legendary for its production credentials. It was a multinational co-production (Italy, China, UK) that employed over 19,000 extras and 9,000 costumes. Crucially, the Chinese government granted Bertolucci permission to film within the actual Forbidden City in Beijing—a location previously closed to Western filmmakers. This authenticity provides a stunning visual backdrop, contrasting the immense, labyrinthine halls of the palace with the intimate, often solitary figure of Puyi.

The film’s most persistent theme is psychological and physical entrapment. As a child, Puyi is told, “In this place, you are the most high… but it is also your cage.” He is surrounded by eunuchs, tutors, and servants, yet utterly isolated from the outside world. His attempts to escape—running to the great gates of the Forbidden City—are futile. Later, as a puppet emperor, he is trapped by ambition and cowardice. Finally, in prison, he learns to see his former “glory” as a crime. The Last Emperor

Bertolucci structures the narrative non-linearly, juxtaposing the opulent, ritual-bound world of the child-emperor with the stark realities of his adult imprisonment. This technique underscores the central theme: Puyi was a prisoner for his entire life—first of the Forbidden City’s golden cage, then of the Japanese, and finally of the Communist state’s ideological machinery. The Last Emperor is legendary for its production credentials

Upon release, The Last Emperor was a critical and commercial triumph. It won all nine Academy Awards for which it was nominated, including Best Picture, Best Director (Bertolucci), and Best Adapted Screenplay. It remains the last film to achieve such a clean sweep. However, the film has not been without controversy. Some historians have criticized it for historical inaccuracies (e.g., compressing timelines, omitting certain brutalities of Puyi’s collaboration). Others have noted a romanticized, almost Orientalist gaze in its depiction of the Forbidden City’s decadence. His attempts to escape—running to the great gates

Bertolucci argues that true liberation for Puyi comes not with political change but with the renunciation of identity. The climactic moment occurs when the prison warden hands him a basin and declares, “Now you are a gardener.” Puyi weeps, not in sorrow but in relief. He is finally no one.