Memoirs of a Geisha, or Journal of a Call Girl?
Two girls are sold into slavery; one is sent directly to the brothel, but young Chiyo is placed in a house and destined to become “Geisha.� What is a geisha, you ask? Rob Marshall‘s film unpacks this slowly. The director of Chicago gives us a stylized version of geisha life that seems one part Japanese Cinderella, one part Showgirls, and one part salvation… at least, until you step away from the PG-13 narrative and think about it.
Blue-eyed Chiyo is a servant in the geisha house and perceived as a threat by the house favorite, Hatsumomo, though the young girl has no desire to be a geisha and simply wants to find her sister and escape. This is not to be, and she is beaten and oppressed in a world with no choices or freedom. When a wealthy Chairman surrounded by geisha shows the little girl one of the few acts of kindness she’s ever received, she decides to become geisha so that she might have the affection of a gentleman like him. An oddly reserved cat-fight begins as Chiyo struggles to become geisha, which seems to be the western equivalent of a highly-paid escort/entertainer. She receives help from another house geisha, Mameha (Michelle Yeoh), whose goal seems to be using the young girl to strategically take down the mean-spirited Hatsumomo and put Chiyo in place to inherit the house.
Chiyo (Zhang Ziyi) rises to become the most famous geisha in Japan and takes the new name Sayuri. She even enters the world of her beloved Chairman (Ken Watanabe)… but finds herself reluctantly on the arm of the friend to which he owes his life. The advent of World War II disrupts her plan further; there is no time or place for geisha in tumultuous times and she works in a small village, separated from the man she desires to love. After the war, it seems everything she does backfires… but in the end she realizes that the Chairman has been, in a strange fatherly/romantic fashion, guiding events since they first met to raise her up, give her a better life, make her his own and take care of her. It’s almost a beautiful portrait of the Christian narrative—God’s love for us, freeing us from bondage into which we’re born&mdashuntil you step out of the confines of the film and look at the culture and role of the geisha. Throw all the kimono and silk you want over it, “geishaâ€� is still a synonym for “prostitute.â€�
“We sell our skills, not our bodies,� Mameha tells Sayuri, “the very word ‘geisha’ means ‘artist’�… (except, of course, when Sayuri’s virginity is auctioned off to the highest bidder, a geisha tradition which plays a pivotal role in the film). Artistry, more money, and less frequency doesn’t mean you’re not a whore. Even the happy ending, pairing her with a man who will take care of her exclusively, cannot hide the fact that the princely, charming man in question is married with children. There is something lackluster about this film that many have ascribed to the screenplay, or the direction... but I fear it is the very subject matter which presents the problem.
Within the fantasy framework of the film, one can enjoy this tale of suffering, endurance, and liberation. Still, though the movie takes great pains to paint a portrait and keep us from looking past the edges of the canvas… it ultimately fails. Director Rob Marshall’s film is beautiful and endearing, but ultimately fails to have narrative sustenance.
Blue-eyed Chiyo is a servant in the geisha house and perceived as a threat by the house favorite, Hatsumomo, though the young girl has no desire to be a geisha and simply wants to find her sister and escape. This is not to be, and she is beaten and oppressed in a world with no choices or freedom. When a wealthy Chairman surrounded by geisha shows the little girl one of the few acts of kindness she’s ever received, she decides to become geisha so that she might have the affection of a gentleman like him. An oddly reserved cat-fight begins as Chiyo struggles to become geisha, which seems to be the western equivalent of a highly-paid escort/entertainer. She receives help from another house geisha, Mameha (Michelle Yeoh), whose goal seems to be using the young girl to strategically take down the mean-spirited Hatsumomo and put Chiyo in place to inherit the house.
Chiyo (Zhang Ziyi) rises to become the most famous geisha in Japan and takes the new name Sayuri. She even enters the world of her beloved Chairman (Ken Watanabe)… but finds herself reluctantly on the arm of the friend to which he owes his life. The advent of World War II disrupts her plan further; there is no time or place for geisha in tumultuous times and she works in a small village, separated from the man she desires to love. After the war, it seems everything she does backfires… but in the end she realizes that the Chairman has been, in a strange fatherly/romantic fashion, guiding events since they first met to raise her up, give her a better life, make her his own and take care of her. It’s almost a beautiful portrait of the Christian narrative—God’s love for us, freeing us from bondage into which we’re born&mdashuntil you step out of the confines of the film and look at the culture and role of the geisha. Throw all the kimono and silk you want over it, “geishaâ€� is still a synonym for “prostitute.â€�
“We sell our skills, not our bodies,� Mameha tells Sayuri, “the very word ‘geisha’ means ‘artist’�… (except, of course, when Sayuri’s virginity is auctioned off to the highest bidder, a geisha tradition which plays a pivotal role in the film). Artistry, more money, and less frequency doesn’t mean you’re not a whore. Even the happy ending, pairing her with a man who will take care of her exclusively, cannot hide the fact that the princely, charming man in question is married with children. There is something lackluster about this film that many have ascribed to the screenplay, or the direction... but I fear it is the very subject matter which presents the problem.
Within the fantasy framework of the film, one can enjoy this tale of suffering, endurance, and liberation. Still, though the movie takes great pains to paint a portrait and keep us from looking past the edges of the canvas… it ultimately fails. Director Rob Marshall’s film is beautiful and endearing, but ultimately fails to have narrative sustenance.
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