“She paints her face to hide her face. Her eyes are deep water. It is not for Geisha to want. It is not for geisha to feel.” – Sayuri Nitta

Memoirs of a Geisha, the 2005 film based off of Arthur Golden’s novel, recounts the life story of  Chiyo, later taking the name Nitta Sayuri, after she and her sister were ripped from their small fishing village in Japan. the movie follows her through her journey, from her rural routes, to when she becomes one of the most highly regarded geishas, and further to when the looming war throws the country into a tailspin.

The specific scene I selected, as pictured above, is one where Chiyo was approached by “The Chairman” who would become her life-long obsession. The Chairman was accompanied by two geishas, who stepped aside while Chiyo and he spoke. After treating her to shaved ice, The Chairman departs with his geishas and Chiyo runs away from the scene.

This film won over 24 awards, including 3 Oscars, for its beautifully executed chronicling of Chiyo’s story. The elements of mise-en-scene from this particular scene no doubt contributed to the overall success of the film, incorporating decisive camera work in addition to authentic wardrobe, scenery, and casting.

The scene begins with a shot of Chiyo sitting on a bridge; the focus is on her face, being framed by the wood of the bridge. When the chairman enters the shot, it returns to this same positioning with him bending down to her level and entering this “frame”. In fact, nearly the entire scene is notably shot from her height. In doing this, the films director Rob Marshall created continuity throughout the story and reiterated the idea that this is Chiyo’s story that we happen to be invited into.

This unique camera work continues, with the focus always returning to either Chiyo or The Chairman after any cutting away or panning to highlight their surroundings. Even when some of the geishas accompanying The Chairman began speaking, the camera’s focus maintained on The Chairman for several seconds before briefly switching to the woman speaking and then returning to The Chairman. Along with other aspects, such as the camera level and other Point of View shots which helped to convey the idea that this is Chiyo’s story, this idea of focus and how it remained for long sequences on The Chairman is representative of how Chiyo remained focused on The Chairman over the years; she would occasionally lose focus but always returned to herself and The Chairman.

The close-up and medium close-up shots keep your eye away from the otherwise distracting beauty of the surroundings and onto the dominant characters. The glimpses of the background show all of the commotion and beauty of a city square in an early 1930’s Japanese spring. The flowering trees, traditional Japanese outfits, and well constructed sets all do a phenomenal job of selling the authenticity of the story. Despite the romance of the setting, this scene gives off more of a kind, fatherly figure perception to The Chairman as opposed to the more romantic partner role for Sayuri Nitta (Chiyo) that develops later in the film. I think this was a smart choice because, as Chiyo appears to be only around the age 9 or 10, this would have been more off-putting than how they did it in the film.

That wasn’t the only smart choice that the writers, cameramen, and all others involved in this film made; despite its length of over two hours, few moments feel unneeded or wasted. While the drama of this romance, complete with the obstacles, passion, temptation, and  love characteristic of the genre did feel quite sad and depressing at moments, it never felt artificial. Consequently, I would call it one of the best films I’ve ever seen, with its beautiful writing, score, as well as many of the elements of mise-en-scene, and there is nary a thing that I would change about it.