April 16, 2001 Table of Contents Home Back Issues         Feminist Filmtakes by Laura Weinstock Patriarchy is the "Hidden Dragon"     "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon." Directed by Ang Lee. Starring Chow Yun-fat and Michelle Yeoh. Stunningly visual, daring fight scenes with women warriors. Feminist. It is no great surprise that "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" was nominated for numerous awards at this year's Oscar's, including Best Picture. "Tiger" is a true crossover film. It is wonderful whether you've never seen a martial arts movie or whether you're a fan. The two times I saw "Tiger," the audience was about 50 percent Asian, 50 percent non-Asian. There are stupendous fighting scenes. Warriors, particularly top-notch women, fly over roofs and battle on the tops of immense trees. Yet, one leaves the theater feeling peaceful. The movie's greatest asset is Michelle Yeoh. She is a supreme martial arts expert (you can catch her in "Supercop" and in the James Bond flick, "Tomorrow Never Dies.") Her deft exchange of kicks, punches, flying moves and unsurpassed skill using every conceivable weapon satisfied this feminist mind and body. More impressive still is her solidity. She is the movie's anchor. When she moves, she embodies strength, equanimity, and a self-confidence so rare, the world may never before have witnessed it in a female character on-screen. When she speaks, it is from a place of deep wisdom. She knows what is correct and how to achieve what is needed. The forces of the cosmos seem to speak through her. Which is not to say she is without flaws -- her greatest being her inability to challenge her society's rigid social codes. In the end, this prevents her from experiencing true love. It also contributes to the tragedy that ensues. On one level, the action is straightforward (though it's often confusing to keep track of all of the players). Yu Shu Lien (Michelle Yeoh) is entrusted with a valuable 400 year old sword, by her longtime warrior friend, Li Mu Bai (Chow Yun-fat). Mu Bai wants to surrender his warrior ways for a more meditative life. Shu Lien runs her late father's security business. She presents the sword to a friend. Almost immediately, the sword is stolen by a masked person. Shu Lien pursues. The audience is treated to the first of many flying, almost poetic battles. The thief escapes to the governor's compound. Shu Lien devises a plan to uncover the thief's identity, force the sword's return and save face for the governor. We learn that the governor's daughter is about to marry a man that will improve her father's standing in the world, but whom she does not care for. We learn that she is a gifted fighter, with perhaps the greatest potential of any before her. We learn that her governess has been her martial arts tutor and is actually the evil Jade Fox, murderer of Mu Bai's master. On a deeper level, the movie is all metaphor. Who is Mu Bai? Honorable warrior, man of integrity sickened by the corruption and violence he has witnessed? Yes. But he is also a man struggling to resist temptation and desire. He cannot quite give up his passion for the sword. He cannot be a monastic or find inner peace. He cannot reach out to the woman he loves. True there is a warrior code to circumvent. But at heart, he does not feel worthy of her love because of what he battles within himself. He wants to help the governor's daughter, Jen, (Zhang Ziyi) avoid her evil nature. But as beautiful Jen challenges, does he want to train her, or does he want a little more than swordplay? On the other end of the spectrum is Shu Lien. She has perhaps too much inner peace and not enough temptation. She is too good. She accepts the world too much the way it is. What no one is saying in any review, of course, is that the movie provides an unusual motive for evil: sexism. Jade Fox, a talented warrior, wanted to be trained at the exclusive all male warrior school at Wudan Mountain. Anguished, she denounces Mu Bai's master who sleeps with women but won't train them. Jade Fox then went a little far and murdered the master. Without condoning this murder, Ang Lee does show how extreme injustice -- being locked out of any means to learn and improve and be powerful in the world -- could turn a woman to crime. How many of the women in this country, socialized to give up everything for husbands and children in the 1950's, went quietly insane? Potential, creativity, energy that needs other avenues of expression can turn inward or outward at a terrible cost. Too bad the film-maker is inconsistent with his disavowal of sexism. The film's greatest shortcoming is the failed relationship between the two women, Shu Lien and Jen. They start out as friends, but become adversaries. Possibly this occurs because Shu Lien does not encourage Jen to pursue a warrior life, but to marry a man she doesn't love and repress her true nature. Yet, Shu Lien does try to explain to Jen, that even though warriors appear free (compared to married women), they too have rules and paths they cannot follow. The two women might have worked out their differences. Shu Lien could have tried to save Jen's soul and become her tutor. She had the inner strength and the martial arts to do it. Why then did Mu Bai act as if he were the only "man" for the job? He even thought he could convince the masters at Wudan to make an exception and admit Jen to the fraternity. One wonders if a place of such hypocrisy could undo the years of poison Jen has ingested from parents, teachers, friends. The greatest evil is not Jade Fox, but the patriarchal world that helped create her. No one is immune to the suffering it inflicts. Not even someone as good as Shu Lien. If only she had redirected her fierceness toward tackling the true roots of evil. That job is open to all of us.