Escape from the 21st Century (2024) Review

“Escape From The 21St Century” Theatrical Poster

Director: Yang Li
Cast: Ruoyun Zhang, Chuxi Zhong, Yang Song, Xiaoliang Wu, Yanmanzi Zhu, Zhengrong Wen
Running Time: 98 min. 

By Paul Bramhall

Keeping up with what is and isn’t allowed in Chinese cinema is always somewhat of a daunting task, with everything from ghosts to cleavage falling victim to strict censorship laws in recent years. While these days the National Radio and Television Administration sits directly under the Central Propaganda Department, where it’s been since 2018, during the early 2010’s the department was still just as feisty over what was considered acceptable for audiences to consume. In 2011, in its previous incarnation as the SARFT (the State Administration of Radio, Film and Television), time travel made it onto the blacklist, with the reasoning being that too many time travel stories were being released that “disrespected history and promoted superstition.”

Such reasoning may explain why there was a 4-year gap between Donnie Yen’s Iceman 3D released in 2014, where time travel didn’t really play a significant part in the plot, and 2018’s Iceman: The Time Traveller, in which time travel was central to its premise. In any case, it’s safe to say that in the latter 2010’s the ban was no longer being actively enforced, and in 2024 time travel was on the agenda again in Escape from the 21^st Century. Director Yang Li isn’t taking any chances though, so in a similar style to how China’s straight-to-streaming action genre tends to set itself in fictional Southeast Asian countries, here Li takes it one step further and sets the story on a completely different planet. Planet K to be precise, although the only giveaway that we’re not on Earth is the hazy sight of multiple moons in the daytime sky, and a passing reference to how the days are only 12 hours long rather than 24.

This isn’t the first time for Li to visit the theme of time travel, with Escape from the 21^st Century marking his third feature length production, having debuted in 2011 with Lee’s Adventure. The story of a gamer who comes across a game capable of opening a door to the past, it was a remake of his own short film from 2009, and considering the year it came out, perhaps was also partly responsible for the time travel ban! Li played it safe for his sophomore feature in 2018 with the coming-of-age comedy Nuts, so it’s good to see him return to a more creative venture with his latest.

Set in 1999, the plot focuses on a trio of 18 years old friends played by Li Zhou Zhao (The Wandering Earth), Chen Yi Chen (Love Death and Cat) and Kang Qi Xuan (Successor). After getting into a brawl with another gang from their school, they all end up in a lake along with a mix of colorful chemicals that have spilled from a bunch of oil drums amidst the scuffle, the result of which first sees Zhou Zhao realise he can travel 20 years into the future by sneezing. Leaving his 18-year-old body behind in 1999, in 2019 he’s now played by Song Yang (The Sword Identity), and discovers he’s a gun for hire working for an illegal organ trafficking syndicate.

Also able to travel back to 1999 via a sneeze, soon Yi Chen and Qi Xuan follow suit. Yi Chen’s future self is played by Zhang Ruo Yun (Sky on Fire), a journalist looking to uncover the same organ trafficking ring that Yang is involved in, while the chubby Qi Xuan finds himself played by Leon Lee (Dragon Hunter), now a ripped 30-something who’s become the alpha of the trio. Most significantly, Lee also finds himself in a relationship with Zhu Yamanzi (An Elephant Sitting Still), who back in 1999 was in a relationship with the 18-year-old Zhou Zhao that they thought would last forever. Something clearly went wrong along the way, with the Qi Xuan back in 1999 hesitant to tell Zhou Zhao that in the future he’s in a relationship with the love of his friend’s life, and in 2019 Ruo Yun’s investigation gets ever closer to uncovering that his friend Yang is now involved in illegal organ trafficking.

The complications the future hold may give some indication as to the origin of the title, and while many sites have made comparisons between Escape from the 21^st Century and Everything Everywhere All at Once (although here there’s definitely no lesbians, something that not even setting the story on another planet would fly with the Chinese censorship board!), these are for the most part surface level. If any comparison had to be made, then I was most reminded of Korean director Lee Myung-se’s distinctive visual style in the likes of 1999’s Nowhere to Hide and 2005’s Duelist. It’s safe to say that Li’s latest is the most hyper stylised piece of cinema of recent years, with an almost non-stop barrage of cinematic techniques used to tell the story. From the different aspect ratios used between 1999 and 2019, to animation being mixed in with live action, the narrative propels itself forward in a visual kaleidoscope of color.

There’s so much happening onscreen at any one time that Escape from the 21^st Century feels like a prime candidate to have the accusation of style over substance levelled against it, however behind the sensory assault the story that Li’s chosen to tell has a surprising amount of heart. Ruo Yun finds himself falling for the journalist he’s partnered with, played with a feisty zest by a scene stealing Zhong Chuxi (The Knight of Shadows: Between Yin and Yang), with the ideals of his 18-year-old self clashing with the reality of life 20 years later. A scene where she puts on a pair of headphones before fighting off a group of attackers is a highlight, with her usage of the headphones explained by her disliking the “sound of men screaming”, and the script gives her some of the best lines.

Similarly the inevitable conflict that builds between Yang and Lee is well handled, with a fight that breaks out between the pair creatively constructed so that it plays out across both 2019 and 1999 (where Zhou Zhao and Qi Xuan take over). Amidst the internal strife of the trio, Li smartly offers up a bad guy for the good guys to rail against in the form of Wu Xiaoliang (Brotherhood of Blades 2), playing a character in 2019 that’s part of the same organ trafficking ring that Yang is working for. He makes for a suitably imposing figure, with the origin of his powers linking back to the trios lives in 1999, but perhaps more importantly, his presence offers up the opportunity for a final fight set to Bonnie Tyler’s Holding Out for a Hero. It’s the final fight soundtrack you never knew you needed, but within the context of the world Escape from the 21^st Century takes place in, somehow it just works.

There’s a welcome humorous streak in Li’s latest that also works in balancing the zany tone of what unfolds onscreen. I’m not usually a fan of movies that choose to be intentionally self-aware, but after an adrenaline pumping training montage of the main trio, when it cuts to Zhung Chuxi straight after announcing “What a useless montage” directly to camera, it was impossible not to laugh. An ongoing joke around how Ruo Yun has a small brain similarly has a killer pay-off, and Li even manages to ensure a censorship board approved message is weaved into the finale via a laugh, with a damning indictment of what can happen to you if you become addicted to pornography.

In the end Escape from the 21^st Century acts as a reminder that only what we do in the present has the ability to set out the path to the future, so we should strive to be better versions of ourselves, something that’s relatable to anyone regardless of culture. The fact that it’s chosen to be told through a mix of bag pipes, kamikaze ravens, the threat of a microwaved cat, a scientist with a constantly steaming head, and references to Streetfighter II, all come together to make Li’s latest his most distinctive work yet. Perhaps most notably, it’s a sign that even within an industry where a multitude of restrictions need to be navigated around what can and can’t be shown onscreen, with the right amount of creativity and vision, it’s still possible to craft original pieces of cinema that transcend their limitations. Strongly recommended.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 8.5/10