and no 14…
by Allan Fish
(China 1934 77m) DVD0 (US special order)
Aka. Shen nu
A mother such as this
p Luo Mingyou d/w Wu Yonggang ph Hong Weilie art Wu Yonggang
Ruan Lingyu, Zhang Zhizhi, Li Keng, Li Junpan, Tian Jian,
The Goddess truly is a tragic film in many ways, one that cannot help but leave one mournful on any number of levels; firstly on account of its melancholy plot, secondly on account of it representing a national cinema soon to be snuffed out so violently by the Japanese in 1937, and finally as a memorial to that Eastern goddess (in the worshipful sense, not the euphemism from which this film gets its title) Ruan Lingyu. Nowadays, she’s more famous for being the actress that Maggie Cheung played in Stanley Kwan’s Actress than for her films themselves. Yet in her time she was as popular in Shanghai as Garbo was in Hollywood and, upon her tragic death only a year later (a suicide), mourned like Valentino. For years it was impossible to see what all the fuss was about, her films seemingly flickered out for ever like the gas lamps of the Shanghai she knew so well. She made other fine films – such as Love and Duty and Little Toys (covered later) – but The Goddess is often referred to as her definitive role and is also one of the few available for consumption. All one can say is, eat your heart out Stella Dallas.
Lingyu plays a nameless woman who, on the run from police, is helped by a gambler cum pimp who blackmails her into prostitution in order to support her son. Using her earnings to help put her son through school, he is all she lives for, but local gossips conspire to get him expelled from school, much to the distress of a kindly headmaster who leaves as a result. Soon after, her money stash is uncovered by her brutal pimp and, in a fit, she kills him by breaking a bottle over his head. Sentenced to twelve years in prison, the headmaster finds out and offers to raise and educate her son himself. The mother is grateful and resigns herself to a life in prison and anonymity.
Though such a story could very easily have descended into melodrama, it never comes remotely close to it, sticking to a much more suitable and modern naturalistic style of acting and shooting. Like Bicycle Thieves and Ikiru, it finds humanity amongst the bleakness, where the slightest gesture can speak volumes and help lift the gloomiest of spirits. Indeed, it might even be called one of the first major works about the plight of women in society, several years before the Mizoguchi works that usually receive that accolade. There’s a magical symbolism at work here, much of it expressed through Lingyu’s remarkably emotive face. From the moment the opening shot of sunset changes into a gas lamp being lit, you somehow know you are going to be taken on a dark journey, a journey into the night. And no journey in a limo, this is a feet-blistering walk into the true horror of social prejudice, poverty and the hypocrisy of one’s fellow men. “One of these days I’m going to have to give you a taste of real suffering” the vile pimp tells her, and you know she knows he would. She’s resigned to her fate and we can see no happy ending for her. Though to a degree she does get one, via proxy, as prison is in many ways the best she could hope for. As for that ending, it surely ranks, along with Pickpocket, as the most emotional scene played through bars in movie history.
Though the direction and design are perfectly in keeping with the piece and create a true vision of a Shanghai only parodied by Von Sternberg, this is Lingyu’s film in every respect. Not only because it was a definitive role for her but because of what she represented. She was not only the first true movie star of oriental cinema, but one of the greatest actresses of the silent cinema. Period. The best advice I can give is to order the DVD (which is multi region and available only directly from the San Francisco Silent Film Festival website), to both encourage that worthy organisation to release other such rarities for home viewing and to give the film the audience it deserves. The fact is, if you want to see where modern Asian queens Gong Li and Maggie Cheung owe their origins, accept no substitute.
I agree this is a seminal film from China, and along with THE PEACH GIRL a valid and deserving choice to make any “best” list of the 30’s. Great review of a film I have a very high opinion of.
A great wrap, Allan.
Mark Cousins from the UK, in his book, The Story of Film (Pavilion 2004) wrote that Ruang Lingyu played characters whose stories debated the role of women in society, and media criticism of her last role tragically lead to her suicide in 1935:
“In New Women (1935) she played a real-life actress and screenwriter who committed suicide after being hounded by the press. The prurient Shanghai tabloids tabloids of the time attacked the film and the leftist Ruan because they felt threatened by ‘New Women’. Ruan’s response was tragic – she took an overdose of pills and died. Her funeral procession was three miles long, during which three women committed suicide.”
This frame from The Goddess is very evocative with Ruan’s character shown with the pimp: http://www.earnshaw.com/shanghai-ed-india/tales/t-images/t-ruan2.jpg.
Also, the film is in the public domain and can be downloaded from here: http://www.archive.org/details/thegoddess. It is a very good print.
Thanks for the links, Tony, for those who don’t want to get an original of the film, they’ll be most useful.
And apologies for your comments getting lost. The wordpress filter does seem rather erratic, it held the comments up several times in the Moderation box.
And thanks for mentioning Mark Cousins’ book, it’s one of the very best one volume cinema histories there is. I told Sam about it several times, but sadly, things go in one ear and out of the other with dear old Sam.
I actually took the book with me to read again on the plane journeys there and back last year. Cousins’ interviews with major directors and stars Scene by Scene in the late 90s and early 00s were excellent, too. I remember superb meetings with Jack Lemmon, Kirk Douglas, Janet Leigh, Jane Russell, Jeff Bridges, Martin Scorsese, Rod Steiger, James Coburn, Lauren Bacall, Sean Connery, Dennis Hopper, Tom Hanks, Roman Polanski, Bernardo Bertolucci, Steve Martin and Jeanne Moreau. Those with Lemmon, Scorsese, Connery and Douglas were especially great.
“I told Sam about it several times, but sadly things go in one ear and out the other….”
I own one of the most comprehensive film book collections imaginable, with more money invested than I have any legitimate right to in view of the ownership of over 6,000 DVDs and 2,500 CDs. If I would have acquired the Cousins book at some point, I would have similarly been criticized for not owning something else. I am continually updating and adding to my book collection and recently purchased new volumes on Ozu, Mizoguchi, Renoir, Bresson, Ford, Japanese cinema and the Academy Awards. When one is given ‘suggestions’ on a continuous basis, one can only do so much. I have a family of 7, and my financial resources are NOT unlimited.
The fact that I bought THE GODDESS from the San Francisco Festival group when it released showed more than good faith.
I have a number of rare, priceless film volumes that I would never throw back in anyone’s face for not owning. Fact is you take suggestions and go as far as financial constrictions will allow you to go.
Tony, your contributions today to WitD have been extraordinary and I thank for it!
Yes Allan it is an excellent book I too refer to often. Bertolucci gave it a great wrap also.
Thanks Sam – Sorry for mentioning the book again 🙂
…….hey I can vouch for Sam’s book collection!……and his DVD collection too. Surprised you have room to walk around that house…Haven’t seen this Chinese film, yet, but it does sound most interesting…….
Yes, Cousins is much admired by many, not least my favourite David Thomson, but he stands alone. He also has a lilting Northern Irish accent which makes him great on TV…
LOL!!!! Tony. No problem, I will definitely get this one before Christmas.
This one really sounds excellent. I’d like to get a copy.
I read about this film in a film encyclopedia, and know of its importance in film history. But I never had opportunity to see it. Nice appraisal.