Post by clayton12 on Aug 16, 2019 10:06:02 GMT
Here's some comments I originally posted over here, for anyone who might be interested:
The Third Wife (Ash Mayfair, 2018) opens with a young 14 year old girl travelling down the river, on her way to become the third wife of a wealthy landowner in late 19th century rural Vietnam. Despite barely being older than the children of the other wives, she quickly finds herself pregnant, praying desperately for a baby boy in order to gain status in the household. As the pregnancy progresses, so do the family’s plans to arrange marriages for the eldest son and daughter. While the daughter looks forward to her impending adulthood, the son is distraught at the lack of control he has over his life and rebels – the fallout of this causing the titular third wife to question what future there is for her child in a society so bound up in gender norms.
This is a stunningly beautiful film, but one that moves way slower than the silkworms that are frequently used as a symbol of the characters’ constraints. At the end, my wife compared the director to some kind of masterchef plating up, delicately putting a flower here, a petal there, a drop of relish here, a dash of sauce here, until there’s a huge plate full of perfectly arranged garnishes and condiments, but no room for any meat. And I felt a bit like the characters were viewing their world through the eyes of a Westerner versed in third-wave feminism. But it is stunningly beautiful.
The Third Wife (Ash Mayfair, 2018) opens with a young 14 year old girl travelling down the river, on her way to become the third wife of a wealthy landowner in late 19th century rural Vietnam. Despite barely being older than the children of the other wives, she quickly finds herself pregnant, praying desperately for a baby boy in order to gain status in the household. As the pregnancy progresses, so do the family’s plans to arrange marriages for the eldest son and daughter. While the daughter looks forward to her impending adulthood, the son is distraught at the lack of control he has over his life and rebels – the fallout of this causing the titular third wife to question what future there is for her child in a society so bound up in gender norms.
This is a stunningly beautiful film, but one that moves way slower than the silkworms that are frequently used as a symbol of the characters’ constraints. At the end, my wife compared the director to some kind of masterchef plating up, delicately putting a flower here, a petal there, a drop of relish here, a dash of sauce here, until there’s a huge plate full of perfectly arranged garnishes and condiments, but no room for any meat. And I felt a bit like the characters were viewing their world through the eyes of a Westerner versed in third-wave feminism. But it is stunningly beautiful.