Part Of The Picture: Outside, Inside

OUTSIDE, INSIDE
JUL 18, 2009 – DADAOCHENG, TAIPEI. THE YEAR IS 1911. An unnamed courtesan (Qi Shu) is appraising herself in a mirror – setting her earrings, stiffening her collar – when she suddenly rises. Mr. Chang (Chen Chang) is shown in. Despite the obvious affection they have for one another – her start upon seeing him; his gentle smile upon sighting her – their greeting isn’t effusive. Their joy is contained in the cool courtesy dictated by old-world custom. Wordlessly, she pours water into a basin. He washes his hands and face. “When did you arrive?” she asks. He hangs the towel on its stand and replies, “Yesterday. I met Mr. Liang on the docks at Keelung.” A manservant enters, places refreshments on the table and leaves discreetly. Chang continues, “There was a meeting today at the Eastern Restaurant, and it was packed.”
Like an attentive wife enquiring after her husband’s day, she comments with a gently mocking smile, “You mean the Mr. Liang who fled to Japan when the Reform Movement collapsed?” If he’s recognised the jibe, he ignores it. He recalls, “Mr. Liang spoke for one hour and wrote out four poems and we found them deeply moving. One poem read: Our homeland is torn asunder / Our brotherly bond is ever tighter.” It’s an uncertain time, with the future of Taiwan at stake in the negotiations between Japan and China, and we’re beginning to understand that Chang is as invested in the political as the personal. This pleasant interlude in a simulacrum of a home isn’t going to distract him from fretting about his homeland.
And ever so gradually, the motif of freedom spills over from the political to the personal. A courtesan named Ah Mei (Shi-Zheng Chen) becomes pregnant. The father, heir to the Su Tea Plantation, is willing to accept her as his concubine, offering 200 silver dollars to buy out her contract at the brothel. But the Madame asks for 300, a large sum in those times. Chang hears about the stalled negotiations when he visits his unnamed courtesan. Unexpectedly, he informs her, “I will make up the difference for them.” She wonders, “In your articles you have always criticised the keeping of concubines. Aren’t you acting against your own principles?” He replies, “I do disapprove of keeping concubines but in this case, I must assent. Ah Mei’s future must come first.” Perhaps, in his own small way, he thinks he’s contributing to a free Taiwanese people.
But nothing changes, even after a month. As before, the unnamed courtesan is in her lushly appointed quarters. As before, Mr. Chang walks in like an old friend. As before, the manservant places refreshments on the table and leaves discreetly. As before, Chang begins to talk about news from the outside. “During my travels with Mr. Liang I met many people. It has been very inspiring. Mr. Liang says China will not be ready to help our people secede from Japan for another three decades.” And as before, she conveys to him news from the inside. “Ah Mei is truly fortunate to have found such a good family… Madame is seeking a new girl to adopt.” And as before, a new girl is examined the next day. She’s ten. “Good bone structure… A little skinny,” comments Madame.
Some sort of cosmic compensation is at work – the cost of Ah Mei’s freedom is the loss of freedom for this ten-year-old. And what about the unnamed courtesan herself? As she points out to Chang, “Last time you said that you assented in Ah Mei’s case for the sake of her future. Now Madame is asking me to stay here longer. Have you given a thought about my future?” Chang’s response comes months later, during the Wuchang uprising. “I visited the hall where the treaty ceding Taiwan to Japan was signed. Thinking of Mr. Liang’s poem, I couldn’t help shedding tears. Although this place has torn my heart, it is wrenching to leave it. With all that has passed in these 17 years, the tears of the oppressed are not assuaged.” He talks about the political, of course, but as she wipes off a tear from her oppressed, non-assuaged face, it’s also become exceedingly personal.
Zui Hao De Shi Guang (2005, Taiwanese; aka Three Times). Directed by Hsiao-hsien Hou. Starring Qi Shu, Chen Chang, Fang Mei.
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Isn’t this the movie that Love Aaj Kal is supposed to be inspired from? I sure want to watch it!
Tejas: Really? I’m not at all sure this is capable of being adapted for Indian cinema. But perhaps the broad framework of three love stories in three eras can be used. Even then, I’d be really surprised
There are faint shades of Three Times in Love Aaj Kal. The theme of lovers from different era is touched upon. If it is really the basis for Love aaj Kal, I am very excited to see how Imtiaz Ali spins it. If it’s not, LAK still looks intriguing.
Imagine if our filmakers could reframe and work on stories from our various mythoogies which cross the confines of time and space…
in terms of retelling from different point of view, thought virumandi was done well…
meanwhile have to settle for popcorn films….!