Red Sorghum

Red Sorghum is an outstanding movie that is filled with beautiful imagery and lush colors. As I sat watching it, I found myself noticing the red splashes displayed about the screen like a Jackson Pollock painting and hearing the reverberation of numbers. I began to attempt to analyze the symbolism, but lacking the Chinese or Eastern background needed to "feel" the innate meaning, I stumbled over my own thoughts. Nonetheless, I will at least give note to the things that stood out and try my best to give my own impression about what they might mean.

Red, which is the color of luck, and, consequently, the most common color for wedding gowns and gift wrapping, is photographed in Red Sorghum like no other in my memory. From the red gown that graces Gong Li's body to the sun above and from the wine that flows from fired pots to the blood that runs from opened veins, hues of red permeate every inch of the screen. There are many possibilities for the meaning in the movie. It would be too simplistic to say that it means luck, because it just does not fit every circumstance in the movie. More than that, it most often seems to signify the life giving force. Blood is red, as is the nourishment of the wine, the color of the sun's rays upon the land, the sensuousness of the silk wedding gown, etc. The entire first half of the film are celebrations of life and it is filled with basic essences of the spirit and passion. But the second half of the movie is dominated by the Japanese invasion and violence of attack and retribution. The very end of the movie is entirely cast in red during a solar eclipse. Thus, red could be used to contrast the celebratory nature of living with the emptiness felt after a great loss. But I also thought that the ending was possibly just showing the eclipse of the red sun of the Japanese flag and replaced by the piercing red of the Chinese Communist Party. It is hard to say exactly, and I was unable to find any commentary on the use of color specifically.

Another very prevalent use of symbolism was the number nine. Nine is typically associated with longevity, since the two words sound identical. The heroine's name was nine and she was the ninth child, there were 9990 li on the road to Qingshakou, additionally the wine was prepared and blessed on the 9th of September, which was also Nine's birthday. The wine was called "18 Mile Red" [which is two nines together or the one added to eight is nine] and wine itself is pronounced the same as the number nine. On top of all that, the Japanese invaded nine years after the beginning of the story. This screamed to be analyzed much beyond the traditional meaning associated with the number. This could simply be a patriotic depiction of how the Chinese civilization will go on forever, even in the face of adversity; but the root meaning is still unknown to me. I am unable to find any commentary discussing this topic. Additionally, any attempt to change the traditional meaning to fit the circumstances of the movie would be a stretch being that I'm Western and I lack the full cultural awareness necessary to fully understand such subtleties.

One use of symbolism which did seem evident to me was the use of the Japanese execution of two characters in the story, San Pao and Liu Louhan. San Pao was used to symbolize the KMT, since rather than cursing the Japanese, he instead cursed the Chinese butcher ordered to flay him. San Pao was portrayed as a weak spirited villain who cowered from the Japanese and spat on the face of the Chinese butcher. Liu Louhan, on the other hand, symbolized the CCP and was shown to be very brave. He cursed the Japanese until his last breath, the movie says.
These are just a few of the uses of symbolism in the movie Red Sorghum. There are certainly more. However, I have barely scratched the surface of the meanings of these alone. Perhaps only the filmmakers know the symbols full extent and meaning. Maybe one day I may be able to ask them...


Barbaric and beautiful   June 3, 2003
Although I don't think this is quite as good as some of the other films that master Chinese film maker Zhang Yimou has made--e.g., Raise the Red Lantern (1991); The Story of Qiu Ju (1991); Ju Duo (1990)--Red Sorghum is nonetheless an outstanding film strikingly presented visually and thematically.

Gong Li stars as the betrothed of an old leprous wine maker. The film opens with her being carried in a covered sedan chair to the consummation of her wedding by a rowdy crew from the sorghum winery. It is the 1930s or a little before. They joust her about according to tradition and sing a most scary song about how horrible her life is going to be married to the leprous old man. Through a break in the sedan's enclosure as she sits alone in fear and dread she catches sight of Jiang Wen, a burly, naturalistic man with a piercing countenance. A little later after a bit of unsuccessful highway robbery during which she is released from her confinement, they exchange meaningful glances. The young man doing the voice-over identifies them as his Grandmother and Grandfather. (Obviously the leprous old man is going to miss out!)

Zhang Yimou's technique here, as in all of his films that I have seen, is to tell a story as simply as possible from a strong moral viewpoint with as little dialogue as possible and to rely on sumptuous sets, intense, highly focused camera work, veracious acting by a carefully directed cast, and of course to feature the great beauty of his star, the incomparable and mesmerizing Gong Li. If you haven't seen her, Red Sorghum is a good place to start. Jiang Wen is also very good and brings both a comedic quality to the screen as well as an invigorating vitality. His courageous and sometimes boorish behavior seems exactly right.

I should warn the viewer that this film contains striking violence and would be rated R in the United States for that and for showing a little boy always naked and for the "watering" of the wine by Jiang Wen and the boy. Indeed the film is a little crude at times and represents a view of pre-communist China and its culture that the present rulers find agreeable. The depiction of the barbarity and cruelty of the Japanese soldiers is accurate from what I know, but I must say that this film would never have seen the light of day had communist soldiers been depicted in such a manner.

Nonetheless the treatment is appropriate since Red Sorghum is a masculine, lusty film suggesting the influence of Akira Kurosawa with perhaps a bit of Clint Eastwood blended in. There are bandits and tests of manhood. The men get drunk and behave badly. Masculine sexual energy is glorified, especially in the scene where Jiang Wen carries Gong Li off to bed, holding her like a barrel under his arm, feet forward, after having "watered" her wine as though to mark his territory. The camera trailing them shows her reach up and put her arms around his neck and shoulder as much in sexual embrace as in balance.

Obviously this is Zhang Yimou before he became completely enamored of the feminist viewpoint; yet somehow, although Gong Li is allowed to fall in love with her rapist (something not possible in contemporary American cinema), Zhang Yimou manages to depict her in a light that celebrates her strength as a woman. One can see here the germination of the full blown feminism that Zhang Yimou would later develop in the aforementioned Raise the Red Lantern, Ju Dou and Qiu Ju.

As usual in Zhang Yimou's films not only are the sets gorgeous but the accompanying accouterments--the pottery, the costumes, the lush verdure of the sorghum fields, even the walls and interiors of the meat house restaurant/bar and Gong Li's bedroom--are feasts for the eyes, somehow looming before cinematographer Gu Changwei's camera more vividly than reality.

There are some indications here however that Zhang Yimou had not yet completely mastered his art, and indeed was working under the constraint of a limited budget. For example there was no opening in the sedan through which Gong Li could see Jiang Wen, and there shouldn't have been one (a peephole maybe). The pouring of the wine (into presumably empty bowls that obviously already contained wine) by Jiang Wen needed more practice. In his later films Zhang Yimou would reshoot such scenes to make them consistent with the audience's perception. Additionally, Gong Li's character was not sufficiently developed early on for us to appreciate her confident governance of the winery she had inherited. "Uncle" Luohan's apparently jealous departure from the winery and his implied relationship with and loyalty to Gong Li were also underdeveloped.

However these are minor points: in what really matters in film making--telling a story and engaging the audience in the significance and the experience of the tale--in these things Zhang Yimou not only excelled, but gave promise of his extraordinary talent that would be realized in the films to come. See this by all means, but don't miss his Raise the Red Lantern, in my opinion one of the greatest films ever made.