Image courtesy of Sony Pictures Entertainment			Memoirs of a Geisha
After finally watching Farewell My Concubine last year on DVD, I was really looking forward to Rob Marshall’s latest film, Memoirs of a Geisha, which is based on the novel of the same name.  Unfortunately, even though Concubine is a much longer film, it also a much better one.  What I didn’t realize ahead of time is how this female “love story” is actually told by a bunch of men.  The author (Arthur Golden) is a man, the director (Rob Marshall) is a man, and the producer (Steven Spielberg) is a man.  In other words, Memoirs is really a man’s vision of the female take on love and relationships.  Maybe I should rephrase that last statement.  Memoirs is a modern day American male’s view of Japanese whores in love.  In other words, the three Japanese female leads (Ziyi Zhang, Michelle Yeoh and Gong Li) are played by Chinese actresses, they are given crass dialogue and domineering attitudes completely uncharacteristic of depression era Japanese geishas, and to top it off, they speak English.  Memoirs starts out with a man selling young Chiyo (Suzuka Ohgo) to a geisha house and her older sister to a brothel in another part of town.  As Chiyo grows up, Mother (Kaori Momoi), Auntie (Tsai Chin), and the house’s main breadwinning geisha, Hatsumomo (Gong Li), train Chiyo and another girl, Pumpkin (Youki Kudoh), to become geishas by beating them, humiliating them, and basically treating them worse than the family dog.  One day after Chiyo’s attempt to run away results in Mother’s refusal to complete Chiyo’s training, Chiyo has a fateful encounter on a bridge with a man known only as the Chairman (Ken Watanabe).  The Chairman sees her crying and buys her a sweet, which, apparently is all Chiyo needs to fall in love, and keeps his handkerchief as a prized possession.
The Chairman then sends his own geisha, Mameha (Michelle Yeoh) to take Chiyo under her wing and complete her training as an apprentice geisha (played by Ziyi Zhang), Mameha changes Chiyo’s name to Sayuri and starts introducing her to all of her wealthy “clients.”  Of course, the conniving Hatsumomo and her apprentice Pumpkin can’t stand the competition and do everything in their power to tarnish Sayuri’s reputation.	Image courtesy of Sony Pictures Entertainment
Distorted male logic then leads Mameha to auction off Sayuri’s virginity to the highest bidder (Dr. Crab played by Randall Duk Kim) just to prove Sayuri’s worth.  Later, when Mother names Sayuri as heir to her geisha house instead of Pumpkin, Hatsumomo finds the Chairman’s handkerchief,  Sayuri and Hatsumomo get into a huge cat fight and burn down the geisha house.  Finally, WWII scatters the cat-fighting geishas to separate parts of Japan before they are eventually reunited for a final act of revenge and revelation which is so flat and underdeveloped it’s almost reminiscent of a teenage girl.  I have so many issues with Memoirs that I don't even know where to start.  The first problem I have involves the meaning of the word “geisha.”  First, we have Mameha’s definition of geisha being “a moving work of art.”  Accurate – no.  Romantic – definitely.  Next, the Merriam-Webster Dictionary definition of geisha is “a Japanese girl or woman who is trained to provide entertaining company for men.” [1]  Accurate – somewhat.  Politically correct– without question.  The true meaning of geisha is finally revealed when Dr. Crab deflowers Sayuri because Mameha tells her afterwards that "she is now a real geisha."  OK, let me if I understand…geisha is the Japanese word for a high-class, artsy hooker?
Image courtesy of Sony Pictures Entertainment		My second problem with Memoirs of a Geisha is the fact that it’s billed as a love story.  Uh...is it supposed to be the love story of a pedophile?  Come on, get real.  When Sayuri finally learns the truth about the Chairman overseeing every part of her development as a geisha, it's not romantic, it’s downright creepy.  I can see how the Chairman would be nice to a little girl he found crying on a bridge; but, to secretly send his own geisha to train and mold that little girl into a woman that he physically desires is somewhat twisted.
When are men going to learn that molding women into their own personal model of femininity is not romantic?  The love angle would have worked better if the Chairman had not fallen in love with Chiyo as a child; and, instead had lost touch before falling in love with her after she is an adult.  Also, how are we supposed to believe these two characters are in love if we aren’t even aware of the Chairman’s feelings until the very last scene?  Throughout the entire film, we see Sayuri’s substitute father-figure type adoration disguised as her unrequited love for the Chairman; but, Marshall keeps us in the dark about his creepy obsession with her since that fateful day on the bridge until their story is all but over.  Another reason, I hesitate to call Memoirs a “love story” is the overabundance of  estrogen-induced, back-stabbing revenge.  Yes, I will admit that women are cruel – especially when they are fighting over a man – but, when I left the theater, I felt like I had just spent two and a half hours watching a tale of vengeance instead of love.  Mother is mad as Chiyo for running away and refuses to finish her geisha training, Hatsumomo is jealous of Sayuri and tries to destroy her reputation, Sayuri is jealous that Mameha’s client is the Chairman, Mameha betrays Sayuri by auctioning off her virginity to Dr. Crab, and Pumpkin seeks revenge when Mother naming Sayuri as the successor to the geisha house instead of Pumpkin.  Why can't we all just get along?  Oops, I almost forgot.  Men are telling this story; and, apparently they believe pedophilic infatuation and estrogen-driven cat fights are romantic.
Aesthetically, Memoirs of a Geisha is beautifully shot film.  The rich colors and elaborate sets are reminiscent of the period epics of Hollywood’s golden age; and, the acting is superb.  Zhang’s ability to convey innocence while maintaining a strong will creates an intriguingly complex heroine, Li’s mastery of manipulative sexuality transforms her into a great female villain, and Yeoh’s combination of intelligence and compassionate manipulation serves as the perfect balance between the two.  Where Memoirs falls flat is its lack of resolution.  Marshall spends so much time having these women constantly fight, he forgets to develop a believable love story, and leaves you feeling as if the film still needs a woman’s touch.		Image courtesy of Sony Pictures Entertainment
© Left From Hollywood 2006 [1] Mish, Frederick C., Editor in Chief.  The Merriam-Webster Dictionary.  United States of America:           Merriam-Webster, Inc., 1997, p. 315.