Mulan (

2020

) ½

I greeted the first trailers for Mulan with a degree of cautious optimism. The Disney live-action films have generally had a problem justifying their existence, after all, most are just bland copies of the original cartoons offering little beyond snappy visuals, nostalgia, and progressive talking points. However, Mulan looked like it was at least trying to do something a bit different with the story, resembling a big-budget Wuxia along the lines of Hero (2002) or House of Flying Daggers (2004). This was accompanied by news that the remake was eliminating the original's goofy cartoon dragon Mushu along with all of the musical numbers to capture a more realistic and serious tone. Whatever the result such changes would have on the overall fabric of the story, you certainly could not accuse Disney or director Niki Caro of just doing a copy-paste of the original film. Unfortunately, Mulan resembles Suspiria (2018) in that it is undoubtedly different from its original film but also just as obviously inferior.

The issues begin right from the start when we're introduced to Mulan and her family. In the original, we're treated to several heartwarming scenes between Mulan and her family before the invasion of the Huns pulls her off to war. In particular, the relationship between Mulan and her stoic, though nonetheless doting, father is efficiently flushed out. This is important because it is concern for her crippled father that serves as Mulan's primary motivation for bucking traditional rules about military service and disguising herself as a man. We don't get any of this because it would require Mulan to appear weak and vulnerable (at least emotionally) and the film is far too concerned with establishing her as a bad-ass martial arts master. She doesn't have to train these powers (are you kidding me she's a female character in the current year) and instead has them because of an abundance of chi. Oddly enough these superpowers are supposed to be taboo for women, so Mulan is told to hide her powers lest she be branded a witch and exiled from civilized society. I'm no expert on Chinese medicine, but a cursory examination of the concept of Chi will quickly reveal how bogus this is.

Credit where credit is due: The sets and props here are lovely. Mulan and the rest of her village live in a large circular structure that resembles a modern-day apartment block ringed around a central courtyard. I've been informed by my wife who knows a bit more about these matters than me, that while the structure is based on real historical designs, it is from a totally different time period and region than where Mulan is supposed to take place. However, to me, this seems like an acceptable departure from historical fact, not only because it is a neat bit of architecture but also because it helps draw the viewer into Mulan's world a bit more. This is a film for the Chinese market first and foremost, and the vast majority of Chinese viewers will be those that have lived their entire lives in sprawling apartment complexes. This makes her life immediately familiar, though still obviously rooted in the distant past.

Mulan's tranquil existence in her apartment block/village is disrupted though when Bori Khan, the leader of the Rourans (a nomadic steppe tribe) launches an invasion of China. He is assisted (and utterly upstaged) by Xian Lang, a witch who has the same Chi powers as Mulan. The relationship between these two villains makes no sense at all. Khan openly describes Xian Lang as his slave and puppet, promising her vengeance against the China that wronged her, but little else for all the help she gives him. This would be fine if Khan was the more powerful of the two or had some leverage over his minion, but as far as I can tell Xian Lang only follows him due to a lack of imagination on her part. There is nothing stopping her from killing Khan and any other Rouran leaders that oppose her rule and uniting all the tribes under her control. Lady, you can shape-shift, possess people, crush anything in your way with kung-fu, and transform into a hawk; why in God's name are you trying to ride some loser's coattails?

Even if he wasn't completely upstaged by his second-in-command, the Bori Khan here would still count as a massive downgrade from the version we got in the animated movie. Bori Khan there was a ruthless warlord whose sole motivation in invading China was to prove his own martial prowess. The Chinese emperor built a defensive wall along his borders and Bori Khan interpreted this as a challenge. He wanted to invade simply to show that he could and that no wall would prevent him from doing as he pleased. When his lieutenant informs him that the horde could easily side-step the imperial army, Khan opts instead to face them in open combat, as he has no interest in victory if said victory does not confirm his superiority over his foes It's hardly the most nuanced motivation, and Khan in the original animated movie is certainly a one-dimensional character, but he remains absolutely captivating despite his minimal screen time. The Bori Khan here has more relate-able motivations, but also much more boring ones. He wants to kill the emperor to get revenge for his father who the emperor killed in a previous war. Despite the change in motivation, he is no less one-note than his predecessor, while also being more boring to boot. The weakness of Bori Khan only makes me more disappointed that Xian Lang never usurps his position.

Once Mulan arrives at the army's camp, it becomes obvious that Disney has tinkered with Mulan's romantic interests in the name of contemporary politics. The character of Sheng, the young captain who trains Mulan and her comrades has been eliminated, and instead the army is commanded by General Tung, played by Donnie Yen. Yen is easy enough on the eyes, but he is way too old to be a love interest for Mulan. Instead, Mulan's chief paramour will be her fellow recruit, Chen. Obviously, this is to ward off accusations that the film is encouraging romantic parings between bosses and their underlings, a subject that has become taboo since the wave of me too allegations started to purge Hollywood of some of its sex pests. Personally, I'd be fine with problematic relationships onscreen if producers could stop raping people off-screen but I guess a pointless reworking of Mulan's love interest is about as much as I can hope for.

For reasons I cannot begin to fathom, Mulan continues to hide her chi super-powers once she has disguised herself as a man. Even if we uncritically accept the notion that women are not supposed to wield chi in this society, why would Mulan continue to hide this power after she disguised herself as a man? It's not like the martial powers granted by her chi are irrelevant to being a soldier, indeed her powers once she starts using them will save the entire army from destruction. We're very much in the Kessen [2000] land where a single hero is more than a match for an entire battalion of mooks. Besides, it's not like wielding chi is any less of a cultural infraction for a woman than disguising yourself as a man and joining the army. The punishment for both is dishonor and exile, so if you're already breaking one you might as well break the other while you're at it. As it stands Mulan is just intentionally handicapping both herself and by extension her army. The only way this would make sense is if Mulan's original plan was to slink off after the first battle and return home, but there's no indication that that is the case either.

It quickly becomes apparent that the musical numbers this movie has removed were not just goofy song and dance sequences, they were also highly efficient means of storytelling. You cannot, for instance, have Mulan just say “My reflection doesn't match the way I see myself” because that is absurdly clunky and far too on the nose, however having her sing a song which says nearly that exact line is completely acceptable. Indeed in the original movie, entire arcs were introduced and resolved in the space of a single musical number. This was the case with the training montage where the other soldiers go from hating Mulan to accepting her as their honored comrade. Obviously, you don't need these songs to effectively tell the same story, but you need a strategy to replace the role they play in the story if you're going to have a chance at success. Unfortunately, the sequences that replace these songs are vastly less efficient and the film drags horribly for most of its second act as a result. There are so many scenes that feel long and tedious and it takes forever for the Chinese imperial army to be drawn into an open battle with the barbarian invaders. Not that things get much better from there.

The film has seemingly married the worst elements of Hollywood action movies with the worst elements of their Chinese counterparts. So you have fight sequences that are robbed of any thrill by rapid cuts and heavy-handed editing that relies so heavily on low-mo that you'd be forgiven for thinking you're watching an early Zach Synder film, followed up by CGI that would have looked second-rate twenty years ago. Seriously, just compare the fake-looking phoenix in this movie with the Balrog from Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Rings (2001) and see which one comes out on top. Indeed the CGI is so bad that I wonder where in the world this film's nearly quarter of a billion-dollar budget went. Though to be fair, the sub-par action scenes are far more galling especially given the way this film puts on airs of being a full-fledged wuxia. It seems especially baffling to me that the film did not outsource the fight scene cinematography and choreography to Chinese experts. One of the advantages of filming in China with an all Chinese cast (excluding Jason Scott Lee anyway) would be ready access to the best craftsmen of cinematic violence in the world. That their help was either not sought or their advice was ignored by the American filmmakers strikes me as the height of folly and hubris.

More troubling than the mediocre fight scenes and shoddy special effects though is the protagonist herself. Mulan here is very much in the mold of the bland, hyper-competent female protagonists that Disney has been dumping into all of their major film series lately, most notably in the form of Captain Marvel (2019) and Rey from the Star Wars sequel trilogy. The character begins the film as nearly omnipotent superwomen and then their biggest hurdle is learning to accept the fact that they have godlike powers and they should use them freely. I'll confess, I don't see the appeal of this trope in the slightest, as it makes nearly every conflict a foregone conclusion. Of course, Mulan will whup Bori Khan's ass, because her kung-fu powers means that she's utterly invulnerable except when the plot demands it.

Her physical superiority is not even the most galling aspect of this characterization though. Mulan also has apparently mastered hypnotic suggestion as well, because whenever there is a disagreement the rest of the cast will fall to their feet and obey her like they have been brainwashed! For instance, once the army discovers that Mulan is a woman they cast her out and tell her that they will execute her if they see her again. After one scene away from the camp, she returns and they gladly allow her to lead them. Even more galling is when she manages to convince Xian Lang to turn against Bori Khan and help the Imperial Chinese that cast her out and who up until this point she has devoted her life to destroying. What's more, it's not some silvered tongue argument or clever logical ploy out of The Devil and Daniel Webster (1941) that wins her over. No, Mulan is able to sway the witch simply by existing. Seriously, what the fuck is this crap?

More than anything, this film shows that Disney has almost no idea how to appeal to the Chinese market. Treating a female action protagonist as a revolutionary addition to the genre may be absurd in the West (though it doesn't deter progressive filmmakers for some reason), but in China, which has had wuxia starring women since the 1960s (Come Drink with me (1966) is the earliest one I've seen, though Mulan Joins the Army (1939) might count), it is utterly ridiculous. Moreover, why would you ever watch Mulan if you're used to films like Hero (2002), Drunken Master II (1994), and Dragon Inn (1967)? Hell, the average Shaw Brothers comedy from the 1970s is a more compelling action movie than this movie! To say nothing of all the hundreds of low budget, but high intensity, action films that Mainland China, Hong Kong, and Taiwan have turned out over the years. Sure, the budget here is higher than all but the most lavish PRC production, and that does translate to some excellent sets and costumes, but those are little extras that can enhance the core film, and in Mulan, the core action scenes left me wanting. Western movies have succeeded in Asia in the past, and even made enough money to justify a cash-grab sequel or two despite bombing in their domestic markets (I'm looking at you Pacific Rim (2013)), but they don't do this by merely being grouped in genres that have been traditionally popular in Asia. Pacific Rim (2013) made a boatload of money in China not because it was a Kaiju movie but because it was a good Kaiju movie. Mulan on the flip side is failing not because it was a wuxia but because it was a crappy wuxia.

The film is also littered with Western cultural artifacts, that the American director and the four American screenwriters inserted because they are not intimately familiar with Chinese culture. There are all manner of details from small actions (anyone whose seen a court drama knows that an enlisted soldier would not interrupt the emperor) to large plot-critical elements (the film's entire understanding of chi and its relationship to gender). Your outlook will determine, to a great deal just how much of an issue these sorts of things are. Personally, I find it rather charming when foreign films get things wrong about my country. For instance, I love that Rumble in the Bronx (1995) claims to be set in NYC but has multiple shots where there are mountains on the horizon or when the Mexican Santa Claus (1959) has Saint Nick battling The forces of Hell. Yet I am decidedly in the minority on this one, and many viewers see these sorts of oversights as evidence of the creator's stupidity or bigotry. Given that fact it seems downright negligent that one of the four screenwriters on this movie wasn't an expert in the culture and period that they are trying to depict.