Rarely
have drinking games and prostitution ever looked so sophisticated. In late
Nineteenth Century Shanghai, all the well-to-do gentlemen visited the elegant
brothels or flower houses of the British Concession. These were not places to
run amok. The flower girls were more like courtesans than sex workers. It was
common for patrons to contract exclusive arrangements and the women themselves
were considered reasonably marriageable (as second wives, mind you). There was
an intricate code of conduct to be upheld by all parties in the exclusive
environment. The trappings are lush and the lighting is in fact rather crimson,
thanks to the rich, painterly cinematography of Mark Lee Ping-Bing. Fittingly,
Hou Hsiao-hsien’s delicate Flowers of
Shanghai, which screens as part of Luminosity,
MoMA’s retrospective tribute to Lee.
Like
many Hou films, Shanghai begins with
a tracking shot that sets the tone for the rest of the film. In this case, we
watch Shanghai’s Chinese elite play a drinking game, while parceling out
fragments of exposition that partially explain the central conflict. The
audience will see this apparent cousin of rock-paper-scissors many times, but
it remains utterly baffling. It is easier to understand Wang’s dilemma. The
wealthy civil servant has fallen in love with an up-and-coming “flower” named
Jasmine, despite his long-term patronage of Crimson. Panicked at the prospect
of losing her sole client, Crimson has rather publically rebuked Wang.
The
resulting scandal has the gentleman caller in a bit of a quandary. After all,
he still has feelings for Crimson as well. In fact, he even once proposed to
her, only to be rejected. Most of this we learn during the various drinking
games, but the experienced Pearl from a rival flower house is always a handy
source of gossip. The British Concession will also be talking about Emerald’s rather
bold campaign to buy her freedom.
The
brothels of Game of Thrones were
never as talky as these rarified flower houses. Yet, everyone scrupulously represses
their feelings and refuses to say the things they are dying to say. Nobody is
better suited to such fatalistic brooding than quietly charismatic “Little Tony”
Leung Chiu-Wai. Although dubbed into Cantonese, Japanese model-turned-actress
Michiko Hada is perilously fragile and acutely tragic as Crimson. Watching her
and Leung circle each other is like ballet or kabuki theater. In contrast,
Carina Lau delivers some old school cattiness as Pearl.