In the northern hinterlands of China, circa 1925, 19-year-old Songlian arrives at the home of a wealthy feudal landlord to take up residence as his fourth wife. Over the years, in the context of their pampered concubinage, the competition to remain worthy of their master's largesse has ensnared the three wives in a web of jealousy and resentment that ebbs at nightfall when the servants arrive to raise a red lantern outside one of their bungalows. The chosen woman is thus accorded the honour of serving the master that night. Belying her sheltered upbringing, Songlian gradually sheds her inhibitions and embarks on an ambitous piece of subterfuge designed to usurp for good her rivals' claims to the master's affection. But in a classic case of underestimating the competition, her sham is uncovered and she is summarily banished indefinitely to the solitude of the compound's spartan outer residence. It's a tragic end to a life unfulfilled.
Universally acclaimed for his stunning Oscar-nominated Ju Dour, Red Lantern offers further testimony to director Zhang Yimou's pre-eminence as one of China's most gifted filmmakers. Adapted from Su Tong's novel by Ni Zhen, the film has two fundamental strengths: the extraordinary richness of its colour scheme, now an accepted Yimou trademark; and the absolute precision with which the mechanics of subjugation and subversion, as applied to the loss of innocence, are mapped. The ramifications of the resulting metaphor - powerful old men perpetuating an outmoded status quo - was not lost on China's ruling Politburo. Like Ju Dour, Raise the Red Lantern is banned in China. Compelling to the end.
