As a final act of devotion, Stuart Morton, Zhou’s friend and avid collector, buys her scrapbooks at auction, prompting the film’s flashbacks that dramatize her eventful life. Indeed, he lived to remember because she eventually convinces him to flee to Hong Kong as the victorious Communists consolidated power.
Although a prodigious artist, Yi-Niang, the “wicked stepmother,” nearly convinced her father to bind her feet, knowing it would crush her spirit. Fortunately, her father appreciated and supported Zhou’s artistic talent. He also agreed to her marriage to Xu Wanping, a photographer who shared her avant-garde interests (at least by the standards of their times). Soon, Zhou was a regular in the society pages, due to both her artistic accomplishments and her fashion sensibilities.
Those were salad days. Then WWII broke out. To Pierrepont’s credit, she includes references to the expat Jewish community, which found refuge in Shanghai and a friend in Zhou. Yet, she and Xu persevered, only to be separated while he was in Hong Kong for business, right when Mao and the CCP closed China off to the outside world.
Frankly, the film’s best scenes document the oppression Zhou endured during the Cultural Revolution. Clearly, those who rose the highest in the Red Cadre ranks were those of the lowest character. Yet, Zhou scores a powerful symbolic victory when she embraces the supposedly degrading task of painting common white wash basins.
Pierrepont’s English-language dialogue will give ideologically-charged pedants any easy excuse to dismiss her film. However, it is really quite literate and historically grounded. It is a decent looking period production, but the film still has a contemporary vibe that clashes with the setting. The cast is also inconsistent, despite the acute sensitivity of Vanessa Yao, as Zhou.
