Swallowtail & Dragonfly: The Life of Zhou Lianxia

Zhou “Ziyi” Lianxia was cursed to be a talented and sensitive artist—living in 20^th Century Mainland China. During the Republican era of the 1930s, she was a celebrity, as a prominent leader of the emerging Feminist arts movement. Again, that notoriety would not be helpful when the Cultural Revolution declared war on art and culture. Of course, to reach the violent lunacy of the Mao years, she had to survive the Japanese occupation and her father’s nasty second wife, Yi-Niang. Director-screenwriter Julia Jay Pierrepont III chronicles Zhou’s true epic story in Swallowtail & Dragonfly, which releases tomorrow in select theaters and on VOD.

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.

Wilky Lau also nicely captures her father’s internal conflict between his traditionalist perspective and progressive impulses towards his daughter. Plus, it is nice to see Russell Wong (the star of Vanishing Son, which is overdue for rediscovery) portraying Morton with appropriate class and refinement. Unfortunately, some relatively prominent supporting players do not match their screen presence.

What happens during the Cultural Revolution is appalling, but historically accurate. If anything, Pierrepont and company let the CCP off easy, but they are clearly more interested in Zhou’s family drama and romance than the political implications of her biography. That is reasonable and probably quite healthy. Despite some iffy casting, the results still merit your attention. Recommended for fans of sweeping historical family sagas, in the tradition of Lisa See and Amy Tan, as well as admirers of Zhou’s art, Swallowtail & Dragonfly releases tomorrow (7/24).