Women, Tradition, and Chinese Film

   Women and Chinese culture have a difficult relationship, if the films we’ve seen are any indicator. In a way, all of the films we have seen, from Yellow Earth to Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon have something to say about this relationship. More often than not, we see a culture in which women are at times more commodity than person, to be shipped off or even used as a bartering chip (as in Yellow Earth, for the son’s marriage), with no choice in the matter. Marriage and tradition are at the core of this issue, and the films we have seen have taken several different angles at this problem, from giving the women ways in which to maneuver around and even fight tradition to making them witness firsthand its power. The two films I think show some of the most interesting views of the female place in society are Raise the Red Lantern and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Beyond the scope of the story, the cinematography in these films serves to accent the messages the film has, and adds layers all its own.

   The opening scene of Raise the Red Lantern is one of the most powerful scenes in the movie, and makes its stance on Chinese marriage tradition clear from the start. Songlian’s face is all that is visible here, gazing past the camera with hollow eyes as she talks to her stepmother off screen. By having only her face with the traditional wall in the background, the mise en scene is focused on the human element of this question of tradition rather than the cultural side. This becomes all the more clear when the two are done speaking, and the scene continues to show the tears falling down her face despite her efforts to keep her face stoic. However, one of the most subtle yet eerie effects of the scene is the presence of tradition throughout. Though she is talking to her stepmother, the other woman does not appear on screen, instead representing the faceless, formless wraith of tradition that hovers over Songlian and women in her position. As her choice settles into her mind, traditional Chinese music begins playing louder and louder in the background as a reminder of the traditions that have brought her to this place and will drive her through the plot of the movie, against her will. Finally, the camera captures the scene as a fixed shot, never budging an inch, perhaps as a reminder of the rigid nature of the culture and tradition that about to consume Songlian.

   Songlian’s first meeting with the master of the household focuses less on Songlian as a woman or even a human being, but instead as another part of the culture- an item to be consumed. The camera is fixed for the start of the scene, and there is no music to take away from the master’s words towards her, the silence making the audience feel the same discomfort that Songlian feels. She is in the center of the shot, surrounded by several reminders of tradition, such as scrolls, silk, paintings, and, of course, the red lanterns themselves. She is, here, an item no different than the lanterns she is told to pick up- an item brought forth by tradition to be enjoyed by the master of the household. As such, the camera allows us to see more of her body as opposed to simply her face as in the opening scene, thus allowing the audience to study her just as the master does. The master, like the voice of her stepmother, remains mostly formless, as the audience never gets a glimpse of his face to give him identity. Instead, he remains a faceless symbol of traditional patriarchal power. As the scene captures, Songlian is desperate to escape this and hesitant to obey his commands, but must do so to satisfy the master and therefore tradition. The camera moves only to capture her movements; she is the object of the master’s gaze, and cannot escape it.

   Perhaps the most chilling scene of the film comes near the conclusion, when the third mistress is taken away and hanged by the master’s servants. It begins with Songlian in her room, which has changed to reflect the true nature of tradition; without the light of the festive lanterns, her room is a dark, empty place, devoid of natural light and given hollow meaning by the decorations about it. Songlian is stirred by a woman’s screams, and ventures out into the snow to follow the pursuers. Songlian acts as a voyeur, her gender and her position rendering her incapable of doing anything but watch. There is no soundtrack here; instead, only the methodical steps of the retainers and occasionally the third mistress’s muffled cries break the silence. Like in earlier scenes, the grounds themselves here represent tradition with their omnipresence, surrounding the women at all times. Here, as earlier in the film, the sheer scope of the walls often envelops and dwarfs the women, but here, the snow merely furthers this effect, the shrouding the actions of the retainers. Once they reach their destination, instead of being immediately granted confirmation, the scene lingers on, forcing the audience into Songlian’s horrified shoes as the third mistress disappears into the room. What follows is perhaps the most uncomfortable silence in the entire film, whereupon there is very little movement and no sound, and the audience merely waits for confirmation of the third mistress’s death. The silence here is made more meaningful when the third mistress’s earlier actions are considered; in her attempts to fight against tradition, she would fill the compound with her voice as it echoed off the walls, defying its size and strength by filling the empty walls. As she dies, her voice is taken from her, and she dies without as much as a scream. The men file out, and the door is locked- tradition and custom have been upheld.

   The scenes in Raise the Red Lantern often serve to show the plight of women in tradition. The scenery about them is often used to accentuate and even make real the prison that tradition cast around them. The medium and long shots tend to rob them of some of their humanity, while the rare close ups reflect the human elements of their struggles. Sound, like scenery can often serve to remind the audience of the tradition running throughout, while silence can reveal the truth harshly.

   Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, takes a different approach to tradition and customs. Jen, the main character, is presented as a woman with the same plight as Songlian: she is soon to be married. However, the film and the plot both do many things to differentiate itself from Red Lantern’s message, while keeping some of the elements intact. For example, the first shot in which Jen is introduced has her standing before a myriad of Chinese furniture and scrolls, and in a traditional dress. Her entire body is present, unlike the shot Songlian has, but the context pulls this shot apart from it. Jen is objectified with the rest of the room as a part of Chinese culture and tradition, but this is merely a shot, rather than a backdrop for the entire scene. In the following scene, the conversation between her, the retainer, and Shu Lien is followed by the camera to accommodate different views. The view is not masculine, but is neutral or even feminine, as Shu Lien is understood to be the most powerful character on screen. Jen’s pleasant and even happy demeanor are far set apart from Songlian’s misery in the first two scenes mentioned above. This shot is further complimented by a scene a few scenes later, in which Shu Lien and Jen converse as Jen does calligraphy. Again, Jen is set against a traditional background and is practicing calligraphy, which Shu Lien compares to swordplay (a more masculine form). Jen again fulfills her gender role here, but at this point it has been mentioned that there is more than meets the eye with her. This shot seems to suggest that while tradition certainly exists in this world, there exist ways to circumvent it.

   The first fight scene between Shu Lien and Jen is telling of the gender portrayal in the film. Unlike even Drunken Master, in which Chan’s aunt, while skilled, has a particularly feminine fighting style, Jen and Shu Lien have a fight that would denote power regardless of gender. The action is fast and the camera moves to capture it, but the fight is one that would be expected of two master martial artists; though the artistic “flying” is abound, in this particular clip, the fighting is centered on the ground, with both combatants using a fighting style that defies gender. Though there are some examples, their fighting styles avoid moves associated with extreme femininity, such as high kicks and flexibility. In her penultimate move, Shu Lien uses sheer brute force, a more masculine tactic, to put Jen on the defensive and nearly finish her. Unlike Red Lantern, the close camera shows their power and skills despite the intimidating traditional buildings looming around them, granting them personality. This, then, is a world in which fighting is equal opportunity. Though the Jade Fox exclaims later that women can be used for sex but not to learn martial arts, Shu Lien offers a counterpoint both here and when they fight later when she beats Jen, and seems to enjoy regard as Li Mu Bai’s near equal, and is an esteemed member of her academy. Though the tradition surrounding marriage exists, fighting is a way to escape it.

   The best portrayal of female power comes briefly but without answer. Once Jen returns to Shu Lien, and then again decides to flee, she decends upon the male practitioners and begins fighting them. Shu Lien quickly orders them away so that she may fight her herself. The men, with varying expressions of shame and disappointment, do as they are told. When the scene ends, the camera’s sole focus are these two women. Again, in this scene, the film defies tradition. Whereas men traditionally are the masters of the art, here they are first beaten by a girl, and then ordered away by another woman. Though brief, this scene exhibits the respect and power Shu Lien, a woman who defied tradition in order to fight, and Jen, a woman who was doing her best to defy tradition, hold in the film and in their world. This is a world in which action may be taken to go against tradition, in which training and hard work may bring not only an escape from tradition, but a place to go without it (Li Mu Bai and Dark Cloud, respectively). Tradition exists here in the weapons, the fighting styles, and even the setting itself, but the combatants are different entirely.

   Raise the Red Lantern and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon use their cinematography and mise en scene to build different perceptions of women and the tradition they find themselves in. While one shows a prison and the other a chance at freedom, both use camera, music, and other factors in order to portray their main characters. Tradition is problematic in these films, standing as something unjust and to be escaped from if possible, though the opportunity may not exist in reality. They portray the plight and difficulties of women during the time, and in doing so, enlighten the audience of a world unknown.