Challenges of the imagination
After reading the "Geishments of Confessions" by Arthur Golden, I hovered for a moment in a different dimension, I went back to the old era and rose a little above everyday life.
I wanted to stay in this state for a while, so I watched a film directed by Rob Marshall.
"American Geisha Confessions" quickly brought me down to earth, stealing only the story I learned, a large part of what made it extraordinary. The story of Sayuri is a story about fulfilling a dream that accidentally sprouted in the interior of a little girl who is a servant in okiya, a geisha house.
Sayuri, living the illusion that she can return to her childhood, find her sister and continue her old life, refuse to follow the path of the geisha she has been chosen for.
However, when he meets a man who forever sneaks into her heart, he realizes that only on this way he can meet him again. So he sets a goal, prays for success and waits for the development of events. One day he gets his chance, and the sky and the earth begin to favor her in striving to become a true geisha. First of all, the creation of Sayuri (Ziyi Zhang) fails. We were not shown anything above the mask of a geisha, whereas in the assumption, thanks to its eponymous denominations, we are to get to know its interior. Sayuri utters a few simple sentences for 145 minutes. Even narrative comments do not save her. It seems empty, washed out of emotions, learned and artificial. It is terrible compared to the book's prototype of a complex personality, strong character, strong instinct of survival and great life wisdom.
Instead of a charismatic and confident woman, we get a girl with the Cinderella mentality (a very apt and repeatedly used comparison) that can be carried with the wind. There is no better case for other characters who are as simple as a piece of paper, and in their personality there is no complexity that you can think about for a moment.
During two and a half hours, despite the multithreading and the vastness of the plot, it was time to devote a moment to the characters in the film were somehow, and not only they were. Women's beauty and charm rule the world they see. An exaggeration, however, is to beautify the character to the limit. Geishas, of course, have to be an object of delight, so their perfection is understandable. However, it is difficult to understand why the one-armed and repulsive Mr. Nobu (Kôji Yakusho) was originally perfected, depriving the protagonist of any coherence, or Mama (Kaori Momoi), looking like a somewhat smoky work of art at any time of the day or night. It's hard to get rid of the impression that a little bit of realism would be much better here.
Perhaps, according to the creators, it would ruin the entire beautiful picture shown in the film? Because the picture is indeed beautiful.
There is no doubt about it.
The charm of Japanese streets, great scenography, wonderful costumes and beautiful people - that's what we find on it. It's hard not to fall in love with the fairy-tale atmosphere that creates these elements.
Everything wonderfully complements the magic music of John Williams, which helps to move into a completely different, fantastic world. These beautiful particles together create such a delightful puzzle that the viewer wants to float above the ground. He begins to dream and turns off the reality around him for a moment in favor of the beauty that his eyes enjoy. Even for such aesthetic experience, a movie is worth watching. It is advisable then to turn a blind eye to the obvious passing of the truth, because it can spoil the reception of the picture. Was this the reality of Japanese reality in the 1930s? It was presented as Westerners would like to see it. Without this trick, it would be hard for the public to admire the film, because there would be problems with understanding a culture so different from ours, with values and patterns so different. That's why the film was Americanized, leaving only scraps of Japanese reality. Kneeling on tatami instead of sitting in armchairs is not enough to present cultural differences. It is hard to get rid of the idea that by Americanizing Japan, recipients have been robbed of the opportunity to learn something that could be much more fascinating than the values and canons that we already know by heart. So we received a beautiful picture, which you can stare at for hours, and in it a fairy tale told so that we would like it and that we would gladly pay for seeing it. However, we did not get a story in Japanese, but a story in American that leaves us unsatisfied and dissatisfied with the fact that by creating a film for a mass audience, we were fed the same as always when we had an appetite for something completely different.
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