Category IIA On July 28, 1976, an earthquake that registered 8.3 on the Richter scale hit Tangshan. The death toll was estimated at 240,000, with other sources claiming that as many as 750,000 people perished, making it one of the most devastating earthquakes in history. This event is the starting point of “Aftershock,” an epic film directed by Feng Xiaogang (“The Banquet”). First, we see a family of four on an intensely hot day. The mother, Yuanni (Xu Fan), lovingly brushes talc on her twins, a boy and a girl, before she sneaks off with her husband to have sex in the back of his truck. When the earthquake hits, the children are alone, and the parents rush back to them. This cleverly sets up a situation where we can witness the mayhem on the streets. Strangely, the brutal deaths we witness all seem personal, crafted for maximum horror. The ground opens up, killing numerous people. Large metal objects fall from buildings, graphically crushing those running to safety. In short, it is disaster porn.

The emotional manipulation is ramped up when the dust clears, transforming the film into a standard weepie. The twins are both trapped under a giant slab of concrete, and Yuanni is forced to make a “Sophie’s choice”: she can only choose to save one child. She chooses her son, Feng Da, and they set off to seek medical care. Cut to a shot of the army marching in formation, bringing order to chaos… yeah, the government saves the day! Meanwhile, the abandoned girl, Feng Deng, miraculously survives, gets adopted by two soldiers, and spends the rest of the film being bittercakes about her mother’s choice. She even makes it into med school, really bringing home the message: “Sorry, mom, you chose to save the wrong kid!”

I am ashamed to admit it, but halfway through the film, when the mother is having a simple dinner with a neighbor, I started crying, and could not stop until the credits were rolling. I used two packs of tissues, and felt angry at the fact that I had succumbed to this manipulative spectacle. While tears streamed down my face, I wondered: why do we make films about disasters? Is it to make sense of the tragic event? Is it to memorialize the event in history? Or is it simply to make sport of the misery of others? Had the film been less heavy-handed in its approach to the tragedy, perhaps these questions would not have arisen.