Sophia Moorehead

A Shocking Film “Raise the Red Lantern” is a rousing and inspirational film in which Xiang Yimou perfectly captures the essence of feminism. The red lantern is an interesting symbol for Yimou’s theme of feminism because the color red can be associated with blood, and thus both death and birth. When Songlian raises the red lantern on her wedding night, it is both the death of her old life, as a student, and the birth of her new life, as a concubine. The symbol of birth is also present in the lighting of the lanterns in the house of the pregnant wife. The symbol of the lantern itself is also an important prop for Yimou’s purpose. His purpose is to create a sense of urgency for the feminist cause while maintaining the extremes to which we’re influenced by the patriarchy and thus the apparent impossibility of destroying that influence. By making a lantern, a common symbol of hope and light, central to the story, Yimou suggests hope for feminism while still surrounding the lanterns by the house, a symbol of the patriarchy. Li Gong’s performance as Songlian and the technical direction of this film are spectacular but, almost 30 years later, I can see room for improvement. This film has fewer spoken lines than most other films, and where Yimou can’t use words to rebel against the master, the third wife’s Chinese opera expresses the pain and anger of the four wives. Meishan is the wife whom the house kills, and Yimou’s choice to play her opera, hauntingly and painfully, before as well as after she dies, creates a sense of women’s eternal subordination and helplessness. The cinematography of the film is superb, especially at Meishan’s death. Up until Meishan’s death, the cinematography physically traps Songlian in the dark walls of the house, never capturing any sunlight, and any sky that does appear is monotone with the rest of the frame. At Meishan’s death, we see treetops and other buildings for the first time, and half the screen is sky, as if pain and anger are the key to freedom, if Songlian could only see past the blinding snow, another symbol of the patriarchy. As a very serious actress, Li Gong plays the role of Songlian particularly well, especially as she goes insane in the eyes of everyone around her. Her performance as she creates an illusion of Meishan’s ghost is particularly stirring, because she is able to use just expressions and movements to show that she is not insane but has seen the truth about the house and its master at last. Some might think this film turns into a little too much of a soap opera near the end, but I think it perfectly complements the rising climatic action and adds depth.