Sadly, 'Geisha' just another pretty face
A film more gorgeous than "Memoirs of a Geisha" is difficult to find. However, Rob Marshall's adaptation of the runaway bestseller is more adept at delicate cosmetics than deep dramatics. You can look, but don't expect to be touched.
Marshall and his gifted crew emulate the extraordinary detail of Arthur Golden's novel, a lush arrangement of 1930s costumes, settings and makeup to make Japanophiles swoon. The geisha lifestyle, protocol and politics of subservience are richly detailed. But the jealousies and blocked romance framing Golden's research aren't enough to carry a film.
The memoirs in question are those of Chiyo, a child of poverty sold to the proprietor of a geisha house where she will someday meet the high standards of the revered practice. The opening scenes of Marshall's film have a Dickensian tone as young Chiyo (Suzuka Ohgo) and her sister are yanked from their parents, then separated in Kyoto. Menial labor and canings don't curb Chiyo's fascination with these painted, pampered escorts for wealthy men.
This isn't prostitution, although sex is a key element of geisha success. Teasing is a subtle art kept within the culture's polite standards. Virginity is preserved and sold at silent auctions among the wealthiest clients. The bidding record is currently held by the house's resident diva, Hatsumomo (Gong Li, a performance worth remembering at award time). Grownup Chiyo (Ziyi Zhang) is renamed Sayuri and blossoms into a threat for Hatsumomo's top perch.
Sayuri's coming-out party is the film's signature, an elegant catwalk dance for prospective clients under a flurry of fake snow. Zhang's performance is muted by the character's repressed circumstances; geishas are trained to restrain all expression, so an accurate performance is the same. But she's a shimmering screen presence, with an easy face to read beneath the powder.
The love story Golden conceived for Sayuri never takes off, despite another dignified portrayal of Japanese manhood by Ken Watanabe (The Last Samurai). He is known only as the Chairman since any further familiarity with Sayuri would be improper. The Chairman met her as a child, displaying kindness she hadn't experienced at the geisha house.
Perhaps he recognizes her as an adult. Sayuri can't be certain because, under geisha code, she can't ask or offer herself to him. There's resolution, but the entire unrequited love angle suffers by the era's attitude prohibiting showy moments. A late jump to post-World War II invasion of ugly Americans soiling geisha culture dilutes the attraction even more.
Marshall's slavish attention to detail is the film's best attribute, filling the screen with exaggerated colors and cherry blossom beauty. Everything is expertly framed by cinematographer Dion Beebe, Marshall's collaborator on the Oscar-winning musical Chicago. Expect to see him, costumer Colleen Atwood and the production design team among the next Oscar nominees. Memoirs of a Geisha is pretty, and pretty vacant.
Rating: PG-13 for sexual situations and brief drug content Length: 145 minutes Theaters: Carmike 7, Spartan 16, Hollywood 20 (Greenville)