Memoirs of a Geisha

"Memoirs of a Geisha" is a movie about looking pretty. The story, of course, is about geisha, women who sell their virginity to the highest bidder. (But they're not prostitutes.) The women put on beautiful make-up and do beautiful dances. The movie is like that, too. The cinematography is stunning, and the women are beautiful. Underneath the cinematography and the women, however, is an overlong, unneccessarily cruel film.

The movie begins with the main character and her sister being sold to someone who, in turn, sells them to different women to be raised as housekeepers/geisha. One of the geisha at our main character's place takes an instant dislike to her, and does terrible things to her, such as forcing her to paint on an expensive dress, resulting in a beating. One day, the main character (I'll be damned if I have to look up what everybody's names are) runs away and contacts her sister, and they plan to run away. When she gets back, she finds the geisha having sex with a man, which is strictly forbidden. (But they're not prostitutes.) As a result, the house is locked up and she never sees her sister again.

Later, a chairman for an unknown company helps the main character by buying her a treat. (For some reason, the chairman is never given a name. It seems to be a rule that a movie that thinks it's better than it is will keep names from the audience just to frustrate us.) This proves to be a pivotal moment in her life: She decides to repay him by becoming a geisha, and trying to become his geisha, despite his dislike of them.

"Memoirs" is, like the 2000 charmer "Chocolat," an example of what I call a 'fauxrin film.' They're movies about far-off countries, produced with local actors in stories that seem specialized to their locales. But they're not foreign films, because they're produced by American studios, made in American English, for American audiences. In fact, "Memoirs" manages to screw up the fauxrin feel by getting Chinese actresses for a Japanese story, and by producing the film on a soundstage in America. There's something odd about the idea of trying to transport audiences to another culture while filming in their own. Nonetheless, I really can't criticize those decisions; there are reasons for them, after all.

What I can criticize is the story. Now, I don't doubt that geishas were bought from poor farmers. I don't doubt that they were put through misery. I don't doubt that any of that kind of thing would happen. Realistically, the miserable parts of the film makes sense.

But the misery isn't the point. The movie isn't intended to be a realistic portrayal of the lives of geisha; it's intended to be a romantic look at geisha-hood. In fact, one gets the feeling that the misery is there to accentuate the (implausible) happy ending; the main character and the audience go through misery just to make the final images shinier. It's a tacky ploy to manipulate the audience into going "aww, how sweet."

The movie is beautiful. There's no doubt about that; spending so much money, it would be difficult to get an ugly film out of it. But there's nothing underneath the surface that drives the film.