"To be a geisha is to be judged as a living work of art," says the legendary Mameha midway through director Rob Marshall's "Memoirs of a Geisha." Marshall clearly has the same hopes for his film version of Arthur Golden's wonderful book, and to say he only partially pulls it off is more observation than criticism. The film is stunningly beautiful, but its narrative focus on plot developments comes at the expense of the small details that made Golden's book so engrossing.
"Memoirs of a Geisha" is as visually evocative and alive as any film in recent memory. We're transfixed by the endless pathways of explosively red arches through which young Chiyo runs after meeting the Chairman (Ken Watanabi), around whom she will focus her life, and put on edge by the gleaming severity of the bamboo corridor that leads to Mameha's door, to which Chiyo delivers a priceless kimono that she's been forced to deface by Mameha's rival Hatsumommo. Growing up in an okiya, or geisha house, Chiyo is surrounded by the accoutrements of glamour, though is herself little more than a slave. Constantly abused by the tyrannical house geisha Hatsumommo (Gong Li), it's all Chiyo can do to avoid being thrown on the street. She barely understands what a geisha is, but can see that these elaborately dressed, painted women wield enormous power in the okiya.
Herself destined for geishahood, Chiyo is selected for apprenticeship by Mameha (Michelle Yeoh), and given the nom de geisha Sayuri. The grown Sayuri (Zhang Ziyi) learns that geisha are not simply ornate prostitutes (though there is an element of that), but rather multi-talented performers who are masters of grace and precision. Golden lingered over these details; the exactness and specificity of kimono knots, hair styling, and makeup layering; the proper and improper ways to stand, sit, walk, and pour tea; the correct way to laugh at a client's jokes, and to make eye contact. In short, all the things that make professional socializing extremely difficult work. Marshall gives us glimpses of this, but by necessity is most focused on plot machinations. There's a lot to get through; Chiyo's childhood, conversion to Sayuri, infatuation with the Chairman, rivalry with Hatsumommo, complicated relationship with the Chairman's business partner Nobu, and the Second World War took Golden well over 500 pages. At 2.5 hours, "Memoirs of a Geisha" certainly takes its time, but viewers familiar with the book will notice what's missing as much as they'll enjoy what's on screen.
It's not that "Memoirs of a Geisha"'s plot is uninteresting; on the contrary, the war between Sayuri and Hatsumommo, conducted under public flirtations, smiles, and social niceties, is often riveting. Yet what made Golden's book so absorbing, and what could make this a great, not just good, film, is its setting in a world about which most of us know very little. The lives of geisha are a fascinating subculture under the already inscrutable (to Westerners) face of Japan. Without Golden's book, viewers of "Memoirs of a Geisha," while treated to a visual banquet and engrossing story, will ultimately learn little of its enigmatic subjects and their lives.
"Memoirs of a Geisha" is as visually evocative and alive as any film in recent memory. We're transfixed by the endless pathways of explosively red arches through which young Chiyo runs after meeting the Chairman (Ken Watanabi), around whom she will focus her life, and put on edge by the gleaming severity of the bamboo corridor that leads to Mameha's door, to which Chiyo delivers a priceless kimono that she's been forced to deface by Mameha's rival Hatsumommo. Growing up in an okiya, or geisha house, Chiyo is surrounded by the accoutrements of glamour, though is herself little more than a slave. Constantly abused by the tyrannical house geisha Hatsumommo (Gong Li), it's all Chiyo can do to avoid being thrown on the street. She barely understands what a geisha is, but can see that these elaborately dressed, painted women wield enormous power in the okiya.
Herself destined for geishahood, Chiyo is selected for apprenticeship by Mameha (Michelle Yeoh), and given the nom de geisha Sayuri. The grown Sayuri (Zhang Ziyi) learns that geisha are not simply ornate prostitutes (though there is an element of that), but rather multi-talented performers who are masters of grace and precision. Golden lingered over these details; the exactness and specificity of kimono knots, hair styling, and makeup layering; the proper and improper ways to stand, sit, walk, and pour tea; the correct way to laugh at a client's jokes, and to make eye contact. In short, all the things that make professional socializing extremely difficult work. Marshall gives us glimpses of this, but by necessity is most focused on plot machinations. There's a lot to get through; Chiyo's childhood, conversion to Sayuri, infatuation with the Chairman, rivalry with Hatsumommo, complicated relationship with the Chairman's business partner Nobu, and the Second World War took Golden well over 500 pages. At 2.5 hours, "Memoirs of a Geisha" certainly takes its time, but viewers familiar with the book will notice what's missing as much as they'll enjoy what's on screen.
It's not that "Memoirs of a Geisha"'s plot is uninteresting; on the contrary, the war between Sayuri and Hatsumommo, conducted under public flirtations, smiles, and social niceties, is often riveting. Yet what made Golden's book so absorbing, and what could make this a great, not just good, film, is its setting in a world about which most of us know very little. The lives of geisha are a fascinating subculture under the already inscrutable (to Westerners) face of Japan. Without Golden's book, viewers of "Memoirs of a Geisha," while treated to a visual banquet and engrossing story, will ultimately learn little of its enigmatic subjects and their lives.