It should have been Disney’s Mulan (2020) live-action remake (the return of one of the studio’s most beloved heroines), triumphant, but instead, the film managed to unite the audiences of both sides of the globe—in disappointment. If you have ever wondered how a blockbuster could frustrate both Western fans and Chinese viewers simultaneously, then this is a film you should be looking at.
First of all, Mulan (2020) was promoted as a more “authentic” rendition of the ancient Ballad of Mulan, but the fact was quite the opposite. Western viewers missed the songs and the charming dragon Mushu, whereas Chinese viewers found themselves puzzled by a cultural version that seemed, well, strange. On Douban, the biggest Chinese media review platform, the movie only got 4.9 out of 10, the lowest score for any Disney live-action remake.
So what was it that made everything fall apart? First of all, almost the entire production team was white -the director, the costume designer, and four screenwriters – people who were responsible for creating a story deeply based on Chinese history and tradition. Instead of working with artists who were raised in the culture, Disney arranged museum tours and “immersion” trips for their team. It is as if you try to make an authentic Sichuan hotpot after only watching a few videos on YouTube.
Among the many cultural gaffes, the film starts with the distortion of “chi.” According to Chinese culture, chi (qi) is the life energy that flows through everyone, not just males. The film, however, sees it as a mysterious power that can only be given to sons, thus making Mulan an Asian Elsa of sorts. Besides the fact that it completely removes the original ballad’s message of “taking the path of your own courage,” it also eliminates Mulan’s personal development—the heroine is already strong and brave at the beginning, so there is very little growth.
Moreover, there’s the place. Mulan’s family inhabits a tulou, a particular type of Southern Chinese earthen house, whereas the story is a Northern Chinese legend. The emperor, who is said to be from a northern dynasty, won’t be calling up southern troops for the war. This is a typical example of valuing looks over truth.
Another important item, the phoenix, is shown as the messenger of Mulan’s ancestors. Actually, Chinese phoenixes signify beauty and grace, not animals that come back to life from the ashes. The movie confuses the mythologies of the East and the West, thus baffling the people who know the difference.
What’s more, the “witch” character. The idea of a “witch” in Chinese culture is different from that in the West. Women with magical powers were usually considered to be respected shamans or seers, not some kind of outcasts. The movie could have effortlessly made the witch a bird spirit—an element of Chinese folklore—but instead, it went for a Western-style villain, thus losing the opportunity of genuinely deepening the story.
The very plot has numerous strange points. There is no feeling of Mulan’s leaving; she goes away with no show, and the reaction of her family is low-key. The legendary hair-cutting moment is removed; instead, there is a historically accurate but dramatically dull scene. The training scenes are dull; they lack the brilliance of the animated version, which helped you remember it.
Unfaithfulness in the details of history is just as bad. The Rourans, the actual nomadic group for the time period, are shown with Mongolian yurts and Western fantasy elements. The emperor agrees to a duel, a notion being foreign to Chinese imperial tradition, which is very thorough and analytical, and leaves no room for mistakes. The town is strangely without people during the important scenes, and the battle’s scale is ridiculously small for a movie that had a budget of $200 million.
Having an all-Asian cast was a move in the right direction as far as representation was concerned; however, the absence of Asian writers made the film feel like a puppet show of orientalist fantasy. The actors who were required by their contracts to praise the film had, obviously, very little involvement in its cultural direction.
Why is this all important? Because Hollywood, in very general terms, has been guilty of using minority cultures as mere scenic backgrounds for stories that are told by people who belong to the majority. Real representation is not just about the people you see on the screen—it is also about those you don’t see, i.e., the voices behind the scenes, who are the ones actually shaping the narratives that are in harmony with the people whose stories are being told. Mulan (2020) could be the one connecting different cultures, but unfortunately, it is a warning of what results when authenticity is traded off for grandeur.
So the next time you see a Hollywood version of a dearly-held legend, think about whether it respects the culture it purports to represent, or is it just another nice picture without any depth? The movie Mulan (2020) is a very strong indication that the question is more important than ever.