Blog From The Bench

The early reviews are in, and they suck. Judging by the paltry performance on Rotten Tomatoes, Rob Marshall’s adaptation of Memoirs of a Geisha will be going down as a stinker with the critics, who feel the movie was shallow, simplistic and detached. As to what movies all the early critics were watching, I cannot say.

I got the opportunity to see a limited release screening of Geisha this weekend, and quite enjoyed the experience. A novel long on my “to-do” list, I had not the pleasure of exploring the subtle nuances of the critically-acclaimed novel prior to seeing the film. Despite this disadvantage, I quite enjoyed the film in almost every way possible – beautiful actresses, exceptional costume design and fantastic (if often apocryphal) attention to detail.

The film has its share of problems, of course. The phonetic Engrish dialogue by the majority of the cast is a perplexing linguistic muddle that can only result when a Mandarin-speaking actresses tries to speak English with a Japanese accent. Many critics complain about the lack of native Japanese dialogue present in the film. The fact that the three main female leads are Chinese, not Japanese, is worth noting. And yes, large portions of the film were filmed in every possible location but native Japan. But none of these problems kill the film. Far from it.

Geisha may lack all kinds of authenticity, but what Hollywood film doesn’t? Think of it like a flashback to a time that never actually existed, a highly romanticized and fictionalized account of a tumultuous time during pre and post-war Japan, by way of Broadway. Considering his boisterous and often garish take on Chicago, director Marhsall has exhibited restraint in Geisha, letting the vibrant costumes, explosions of colors in cherry blossom trees and other atmospheric elements provide lavish eye-candy at every turn. More a fable than a documentary, Geisha is an impressionist examination into a cultural tradition, not a historical re-creation.

The only real noticeable drawback to the film is the length. The subdued pacing means that you feel every single minute of the film’s 150 minute runtime. The material certainly supports the duration of the film, but just takes too long to get warmed up, and the film drags at times as a result.

There is nothing particularly authentic about Memoirs of a Geisha, but the experience was nevertheless extremely enjoyable, almost whimsical in its surrealism and sensuality. Yes, a Hollywood interpretation of a Japanese cultural tradition may be lacking in authenticity, but at least it’s better than our adaptation of Godzilla.

You have to admit... we’re getting better.