Reviewed by: ewaffle
Red Rose White Rose is a tale of wasted lives and hollowed out people. We follow the rise and collapse of Tung Jan-Biu, masterfully played by Winston Chao Wen-Hsuan, an outwardly successful Chinese businessman completely undone by his insatiable need to possess and discard women. Tung has little control and less understanding of the demons that possess him. He is handsome, wealthy, and always presents himself perfectly, which is also his main problem. He is all presentation, all surface flash with an emotional life so repressed that he can no longer experience any simple human feelings. He is detached from those who should be closest to himhis brother, his wife, his lover, his best friend. This is represented by Tungs steady rise in the business communityhis public selfwhile at home is wife is going insanehis private self.
Reviewer Score: 7
Images and devices highlight this split. Title cards, much like those of silent movies, appear regularly, reminding us that this is cinema and not real life. Voiceovers fill in some of the plot and foreshadow other parts and also function as distancing devices. One title card tells us that Tung is head to toe the archetypal Chinese man of his era having been educated in England, he takes care of his mother and brother, is practical and very hard working, so even the language used on the title cards reminds us of his alienation and isolation, archetypal not being a word one expects in that context and one that loads the hopes and expectations of the entire Chinese nation onto the protagonist.
Both Tung and Wong Giu-Yui, in an understated masterpiece of acting by Joan Chen, show the centrifugal pull of East and West on Chinese of their age, era and social class. Wong is an overseas Chinese who has married Tungs best friend and now lives with him in Shanghai. She makes it clear that she doesnt like much about China, although she does like the attentions of Chinese men when her undemanding husband is traveling. Mrs. Wong is an accomplished pianist, a skill more common among upper class women in America or Britain than in China, and plays often throughout the movie, this diagetic music both supplying and extending the score. She speaks Chinese to the servants, English to her current lover. Her life at first seems even more meaningless than Tungs since she has real focus outside of her huge apartment, spending her time shopping and in casual sexual affairs, often with men otherwise close to her husband but we see through her that Wongs life is just as banal. Being successful in business is simply something he does to provide funds and opportunity for his increasingly bleak sex-driven existence.
The cinematography is breathtaking; the set design and art direction is exquisitely detailed and they serve each other very well. Mirrored surfaces are everywhere; much of the action takes place as if behind a scrim or screen, possibly another metaphor showing how the characters are unable to really see themselves. The colors are muted, even washed out; rain falls constantly, large rooms are barely illuminated by a few small lamps. Important things happen in the shadows while that which occurs in sunlight or brightly lit wedding halls are only there for show. Red Rose White Rose is a lovely movie to look at.
Veronica Yip Yuk-Hing may not the actress one first thinks of for the role of Meng Yan-Li, Tungs repressed and pitiable wife. She gives a muted, almost muffled performance, heartbreaking in its quiet agony and despair--the audience is very much on her side when she gives birth to a daughter. Unlike Tung and Mrs. Wong, Yan-Li isnt able to paper over her fear and helplessness with mindless affairs nor is she able to detach herself from her surroundings. When she cant take the misery any more she literally retreats to the bathroom when her husband leaves, even taking her meals there, to the shock and disgust of their servant. Unlike Tung her trajectory is upward from this nadir. Yan-Li is a difficult character to like but we want to see heror someonepulls themselves from the pit created by Tung Jan-Biu.
Red Rose White Rose is not without it faults. Kwans pacing is self-indulgent and the film often drags; some scenes could be shorter and many of them could be simpler and more effective. His meticulous attention to detail sometimes becomes a fussy delight in minutia. The voiceovers would have been twice as effective if there had been half as many of themhe doesnt trust the audience to understand the points he is making and uses the voiceovers to hammer things home.
Stanley Kwan Kam-Pang and Lam Yik-Wa are in territory defined by recent masters of domestic tragedy Tennessee Williams and Harold Pinter. While only an understanding of the original language of the screenplay would allow one to compare Red Rose White Rose to Williams or Pinter (or Albee, Miller or Rattigan) that characters experience the same passionless yet frenzied lives of those created by the older playwrights and screenwriters.
Reviewed by: shelly
A sophisticated, multi-layered movie that bears repeated watching. The actresses are superb: Joan Chen is extravagantly fun as the extroverted Red Rose. Veronica Yip has an even greater challenge as the painfully repressed White Rose, and she meets it with a subtley graduated performance that forces you to hang on her every expression. As in his previous film, Centre Stage [Ruan Ling-yu], Stanley Kwan presents us with several simultaneous narrative voices. And they sometimes disagree. You're never sure whether what you're seeing or hearing is "true", or one of the characters' fictions, or a parody of some romantic/domestic scene. I'm not sure he quite pulls it off, but it did keep me slightly off-balance for the length of the movie, which is a good thing.
Reviewer Score: 9
Reviewed by: spinali
The story of a how Zhen Bao, a privileged playboy of the '20stries to reinvent himself with every new romance. "Red Rose" is Mrs. Wang (Joan Chen, in an amazing performance) -- a sensual, at times almost manic house wife largely neglected by her travelling husband. After this affair bursts, Zhao marries "White Rose" Men Lan-Yi (Veronica Yip, acting well and looking even better), a quiet, ignorant house wife he's ashamed to show in public. The photography, a good deal in macro close-ups, is more distinguished than the story; from what I can tell, director Stanley Kwan converted a distanced, almost sardonic novel into a violin-romance -- which is pretty much what he did with his remarkably similar Red Dust.
Reviewer Score: 7
[Reviewed by Steve Spinali]