Post by The Social Introvert on Feb 15, 2018 14:08:21 GMT
To see a video version of my thoughts of this film, see here:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=oD6O1PD41No
For a short write up (no spoilers):
Raise the Red Lantern is an early offering from director Yimou Zhang, who would later go onto make pictures like Hero and House of Flying Daggers. It concerns a 19 year old university student in early 20th century China who’s forced to drop out from her studies after her father’s death causes her family to be subject to poverty. She makes the choice to marry into a wealthy family to a nobleman of some sort, as his fourth wife. We never really get a good look at her husband, known around the household as ‘the master’. Embodying the lack of closeness our protagonist Songlian has with him, he’s either seen with his back towards the camera or from afar. All we know about him is he’s loaded, with the abundance of furniture, lights, massages etc in the wives’ homes symbolising the safety these woman have with being with a man with such a lofty status, and the barren courtyard a clear reminder of what their status would be like out there in the world, but also a reflection of the emptiness of their own lives. The husband’s detachment matters not, because the film isn’t about him and is more concerned with the four wives, and their schemes and psychological plots to discredit each other and win the master’s favour. Tension and jealousy is rampant throughout the household, and sometimes coming from places you’d least expect.
The title refers to the red lanterns which are raised every night outside one of the wives individual homes, after the master chooses which house he wants to stay at for the night.
We never step foot outside of the family’s manor from the moment the film begins. This house, a prison for Songlian – she’s trapped by the strict family traditions and social boundaries that despite her education amount her to just another concubine for the master. It’s terrible for her, but not so bad for us as the viewer because staying inside the housing complex is a visual feast. The vibrant colour of the red lanterns against the backdrop of the dim night sky, or the gorgeous building architecture waking up with the early morning sun – it’s such a good looking movie. And it’s captured so elegantly by the camera, whose placements and movements are precise and deliberate. The shots linger, too, allowing the beauty to sink in and impress. For sure the first thing you’ll notice about the film is how good looking it is. Aside from one instance of a hand held camera scene (necessary for a particular tense part of the movie) the way this film is shot gives the film a graceful aura, an atmosphere of sophistication and class.
Class is not a word you’d use to describe the characters however. The first wife, or the “first sister” is old and aging. She pretty much keeps herself to herself, occasionally pitching in to mention traditional family customs to those otherwise uneducated, but she more or less is out of the game. She is well aware her time as an attractive source of happiness for the master is long gone and plays no part in the back stabbings and plotting that goes on around the manor. The second sister is immediately open and warm to Songlian upon her arrival, swapping clothes and stories with her. She’s like everybody’s favourite aunt, approachable, always smiling and seeing the best of a situation. The third sister, a former opera sister, is an open enemy for our protagonist. She’s sneering, spoilt and calculating, doing everything she can to divert the master’s attention away from his new wife. The maid that Songlian is assigned, Yan’er, is also worth mentioning, fiercely jealous and resentful that Songlian was chosen as the fourth wife and not her. And it may seem stupid to you and me that Yan’er even thought she had a chance, being a maid, but I guess that really is the essence of her character – that she dares to hope, dares to dream.
That’s all not to say Songlian is an angel, far from it. The fourth sister is in contention to be considered the bitchiest character in the movie, doing her fair share of scheming and plotting of her own. In her defence, she only attacks when provoked, but she does make a fair few blunders along the way that get all the wrong people into severe trouble.
Some have said that Raise the Red Lantern in an allegory for the Chinese communist regime. Whether it is or not I can’t say as I don’t have expertise on the matter. All I know is the film was an entertaining two hours spent. The conflicts, the betrayals spiral to a tragic conclusion that hits you hard when it finally comes, after a slow, delicate, deliberately-paced and Shakespere-esque examination of a woman bound, unable to escape except though madness…or death. 8/10.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=oD6O1PD41No
For a short write up (no spoilers):
Raise the Red Lantern is an early offering from director Yimou Zhang, who would later go onto make pictures like Hero and House of Flying Daggers. It concerns a 19 year old university student in early 20th century China who’s forced to drop out from her studies after her father’s death causes her family to be subject to poverty. She makes the choice to marry into a wealthy family to a nobleman of some sort, as his fourth wife. We never really get a good look at her husband, known around the household as ‘the master’. Embodying the lack of closeness our protagonist Songlian has with him, he’s either seen with his back towards the camera or from afar. All we know about him is he’s loaded, with the abundance of furniture, lights, massages etc in the wives’ homes symbolising the safety these woman have with being with a man with such a lofty status, and the barren courtyard a clear reminder of what their status would be like out there in the world, but also a reflection of the emptiness of their own lives. The husband’s detachment matters not, because the film isn’t about him and is more concerned with the four wives, and their schemes and psychological plots to discredit each other and win the master’s favour. Tension and jealousy is rampant throughout the household, and sometimes coming from places you’d least expect.
The title refers to the red lanterns which are raised every night outside one of the wives individual homes, after the master chooses which house he wants to stay at for the night.
We never step foot outside of the family’s manor from the moment the film begins. This house, a prison for Songlian – she’s trapped by the strict family traditions and social boundaries that despite her education amount her to just another concubine for the master. It’s terrible for her, but not so bad for us as the viewer because staying inside the housing complex is a visual feast. The vibrant colour of the red lanterns against the backdrop of the dim night sky, or the gorgeous building architecture waking up with the early morning sun – it’s such a good looking movie. And it’s captured so elegantly by the camera, whose placements and movements are precise and deliberate. The shots linger, too, allowing the beauty to sink in and impress. For sure the first thing you’ll notice about the film is how good looking it is. Aside from one instance of a hand held camera scene (necessary for a particular tense part of the movie) the way this film is shot gives the film a graceful aura, an atmosphere of sophistication and class.
Class is not a word you’d use to describe the characters however. The first wife, or the “first sister” is old and aging. She pretty much keeps herself to herself, occasionally pitching in to mention traditional family customs to those otherwise uneducated, but she more or less is out of the game. She is well aware her time as an attractive source of happiness for the master is long gone and plays no part in the back stabbings and plotting that goes on around the manor. The second sister is immediately open and warm to Songlian upon her arrival, swapping clothes and stories with her. She’s like everybody’s favourite aunt, approachable, always smiling and seeing the best of a situation. The third sister, a former opera sister, is an open enemy for our protagonist. She’s sneering, spoilt and calculating, doing everything she can to divert the master’s attention away from his new wife. The maid that Songlian is assigned, Yan’er, is also worth mentioning, fiercely jealous and resentful that Songlian was chosen as the fourth wife and not her. And it may seem stupid to you and me that Yan’er even thought she had a chance, being a maid, but I guess that really is the essence of her character – that she dares to hope, dares to dream.
That’s all not to say Songlian is an angel, far from it. The fourth sister is in contention to be considered the bitchiest character in the movie, doing her fair share of scheming and plotting of her own. In her defence, she only attacks when provoked, but she does make a fair few blunders along the way that get all the wrong people into severe trouble.
Some have said that Raise the Red Lantern in an allegory for the Chinese communist regime. Whether it is or not I can’t say as I don’t have expertise on the matter. All I know is the film was an entertaining two hours spent. The conflicts, the betrayals spiral to a tragic conclusion that hits you hard when it finally comes, after a slow, delicate, deliberately-paced and Shakespere-esque examination of a woman bound, unable to escape except though madness…or death. 8/10.
