Introduction: When Con Artists Meet Revolutionaries
Amidst 2012’s wave of Chinese historical epics, Scheme of the City (双城计中计) carved its niche as a cerebral yet adrenaline-charged ode to Republican-era Shanghai’s moral ambiguity. Directed by Pan Anzi and starring Richie Jen (任贤齐) alongside rising star Tengger, this neo-noir heist film transcends genre boundaries, blending Ocean’s Eleven-style trickery with anti-colonial resistance narratives. Grossing $15 million and sparking academic debates about “guerrilla capitalism,” the film offers international audiences a fresh lens into China’s complex 1930s identity—a time when gangsters moonlighted as patriots and magic tricks doubled as political subversion.
Part 1: Narrative Complexity – Three Layers of Deception
1.1 The Con Within the War Within the Revolution
Set during Japan’s 1932 invasion of Shanghai, the plot operates on three interconnected levels:
- The Heist: A crew of grifters (Jen as “Magic King” and Tengger as “Thousand-Faced Fox”) plot to steal a gold shipment from collaborator General Niu (Liu Cheng-Hao).
- The Resistance: Communist undercover agent Fang (Weng Hong) manipulates the heist to fund anti-Japanese operations.
- The Meta-Con: Director Pan’s stylistic nods to 1930s Shanghai cinema itself, using iris shots and nitrate film textures to question historical authenticity.
This Russian-doll structure, revealed through Rashomon-style flashbacks, turns viewers into active participants deciphering truth from illusion.
1.2 Symbolic Geography of Divided Shanghai
The film maps moral duality through locations:
- French Concession Casino: Facade of Western decadence masking arms deals.
- Zhabei Refugee Zone: Crumbling Chinese architecture sheltering resistance cells.
- Huangpu River: Fluid boundary where gold-laden boats become floating metaphors for China’s stolen wealth.
Part 2: Richie Jen’s Transformation – From Crooner to Criminal Virtuoso
2.1 Method Acting Meets Magic Craft
Jen immersed himself in 1930s conjuring techniques for his role as Lian Shaoqing, a magician-con artist:
- Sleight-of-Hand Authenticity: Trained under Liu Qian (Asia’s “David Blaine”) to perform 1920s Shanghai street magic, including the Golden Lotus Trick pivotal to the plot.
- Linguistic Chameleonism: Mastered 1930s Shanghainese slang (“gangsao” for con tricks) and Japanese business jargon to portray shifting identities.
- Physical Calculus: Choreographed a 7-minute single-take escape sequence involving acrobatics, code-breaking, and qigong breathing—a tribute to Buster Keaton’s physical comedy.
2.2 Ethical Ambiguity as National Allegory
Jen’s character embodies China’s conflicted modernity:
- Westernized Dandy: Tailored suits and Chaplin-esque cane symbolizing foreign influence.
- Traditional Moralist: Secretly funding orphanages with stolen gold, reflecting Confucian ren (benevolence).
- Reluctant Revolutionary: His final sacrifice—using a magic trick to detonate an arms depot—mirrors China’s painful path to self-reinvention.
Part 3: Cinematic Homage and Innovation
3.1 Visual Nostalgia with Digital Edge
Cinematographer Zhao Xiaoshi bridges eras through:
- Hand-Cranked Aesthetics: Replicating 1930s cameras’ shaky pans during chase scenes.
- Holographic Montages: Projecting historical footage onto modern Shanghai skyscrapers in the finale.
- Color Symbolism: Sepia for colonial oppression, jade green for underground resistance, blood red for betrayal.
3.2 Soundscape as Temporal Collage
Composer Nathan Wang deconstructs Republican-era audio:
- Remixed Gramophone Hits: Zhou Xuan’s Night Shanghai spliced with electronic glitches.
- Weaponized Silence: A 43-second mute during the heist’s climax, forcing focus on actors’ eye movements.
- Linguistic Archaeology: Reconstructed Shanghainese underworld argot via 1935 police interrogation records.
Part 4: Global Relevance in the Age of Disinformation
4.1 Heist Genre as Media Literacy Parable
The film’s central con—fooling occupiers with staged newsreels—resonates with modern concerns:
- Deepfake Prefiguration: The grifters’ use of forged documents and actor-impersonators parallels today’s AI-generated disinformation.
- Crowd Psychology: A scene where they manipulate rumor mills in tea houses mirrors social media echo chambers.
- Ethical Hacking: The crew’s exploitation of telegraph system flaws offers a 1930s analog to cybersecurity debates.
4.2 Postcolonial Reckoning Through Entertainment
While Western heist films (The Sting) romanticize individualism, Scheme interrogates colonialism:
- Resource Extraction Allegory: The stolen gold represents China’s plundered artifacts in foreign museums.
- Resistance as Collective Art: Every con trick doubles as anti-propaganda—e.g., rigging roulette wheels to spell “Resist!” in Chinese characters.
- Feminist Subtext: Pickpocket Xiao Wei (Xiong Nai-Xin) uses gender stereotypes to disable enemy communications, predating WWII’s “Code Girls.”
Why International Audiences Should Watch
- Genre Hybridity: Perfect for fans of Now You See Me seeking geopolitical depth.
- Richie Jen’s Renaissance: Witness a pop icon’s transformation into a character actor of Brando-esque intensity.
- Historical Parallels: Understand China’s current cultural confidence through its reclamation of Republican-era narratives.
Availability: Streaming with English subs on iQIYI and AsianCrush. Pair with Jen’s 2024 interview on The Con Artist’s Social Responsibility for deeper context.
Conclusion: The Greatest Trick is Revealing Truth Through Lies
More than a caper film, Scheme of the City is a masterclass in how entertainment can smuggled ideological critique. As we navigate today’s landscape of fabricated realities, this 2012 gem reminds us that sometimes, the most revolutionary act is making power see what isn’t there—while blinding it to what truly matters. Richie Jen’s career-defining performance, coupled with Pan Anzi’s audacious direction, positions Scheme not just as a Chinese movie, but as a global manifesto for artistic resistance.