Mulan (2020) Review
- Daniel O'Connor
- Sep 7, 2020
- 4 min read
"Loyal. Brave. True." As well as describing the titular heroine, these three virtues epitomise director Niki Caro's (Whale Rider) live-action retelling of Mulan. Unlike 2017's outstanding Beauty and the Beast or last year's show-stopping Aladdin, this Disney Renaissance remake bravely discards the original's beloved music and mythical characters (Farewell Mushu) and instead takes a more authentic approach, remaining loyal and true to Chinese folklore.
Like all of Disney's recent live-action films, Mulan's opening credit castle is fittingly themed. This time the studio spotlights Shanghai Disneyland's "Enchanted Storybook Castle", and it looks dazzling. However, also like fellow live-action reimaginings (Maleficent in particular), Mulan quickly finds itself on uneven footing with a poorly executed and unnecessary prologue. To establish that she is 'different', a young, brash and disruptive Mulan (Crystal Rao) chases a chicken around her peaceful village - an elaborate set piece that would slot perfectly into EPCOT's China pavilion - using bad wirework and dodgy CGI. There are less cliché ways to illustrate disorder but thankfully this sequence is Caro's only mishap and she uses the rest of the film to represent, explore and challenge Chinese culture, tradition and beliefs.
With an empowering real-life legend as its subject, 1998's Mulan was already a feminist tale ahead of its time and this 2020 adaptation adds welcome commentary on gender politics in China. Mulan (Yifei Liu) is brought up under the tradition that "a daughter brings honour [to her family] through marriage" and that any disobeying women risk being ostracised. Therefore Mulan's decision to disguise her femininity and secretly take her elderly father's place in the Emperor's army is both heroic and dangerous. Boldly, Caro portrays this transformation (a key plot point) very subtly. There is no emotional monologue, dramatic haircut or shiny new armour, but a softer moment where Mulan sees her reflection in her father's beguiling - and merchandisable - sword and gracefully speaks "Loyal, Brave. True". It's elegantly understated and embodies the character's selflessness.
By downplaying this significant sequence, Caro's film does require a suspension of disbelief because Mulan, now masquerading as Hua Jun, definitely still looks and sounds like a woman. Nevertheless, Mulan's Commander and fellow soldiers are unaware of her womanhood - the magic of storytelling, folks! - and she has many, sometimes humorous/sometimes vulnerable, near-miss moments. Yet like the many kick-ass heroines before her (Wonder Woman's iconic 'No Man's Land' sequence), there comes a point on the battlefield where Mulan is pushed to courageously risk everything and embrace her true identity. She unties her hair, embarks on her horse and fights where no woman has done before, all scored to a beautiful updated instrumental of "Reflection" by Harry Gregson-Williams. This acts as the character's true transformation sequence and it is glorious.
It is one of the film's new characters who accelerates Mulan's self-realisation: Xianniang, a shape-shifting witch portrayed by a disappointingly wooden Li Gong. Unlike Jason Scott Lee's underwritten and generic Böri Khan, Xianniang is a complex villain with an impressive skillset (her clawwwwwws) and poignant similarities to the titular heroine. She too was once a young, unruly and outlandish master of 'chi' (boundless warrior skills) but was vilified and exiled by her community. Thus Xianniang envies Mulan's courage and builds resentment for her freedom and successes. It could be said that Xianniang represents Mulan's distorted, what-could-have-been reflection.
Another new addition is the vibrant and symbolic Phoenix spirit that guides and emboldens Mulan when she is at her most vulnerable. As described by her father during the prologue, this Phoenix represents the presence of Mulan's warrior ancestors who will give her the strength, honour and support to rise from weakness. This adds a layer of sentimental, familial magic to the film and cumulates toward a very fulfilling and powerful shot in the third act of a determined Mulan standing in front of the Phoenix's electrifying wings, tactfully playing into China's collectivistic values. Moreover, Mulan's pledge to make amends to her family instead of accepting an exciting job offer is something I'm sure the Chinese government will appreciate about Disney's remake. After all, "devotion to family is an essential virtue".
My only recurring issue with Mulan is the film's abrupt and clunky editing. There are many gorgeous and moving shots that are ruined and disrupted by a rapid cut to (usually) Böri Khan invading another village. An extra second of screen-time to allow these moments to breathe would have made all the difference.
2020 was on track to be a great year for Asian representation in entertainment: Korea's Parasite won Best Picture, Marvel's landmark Shang-Chi was about to begin filming, and Disney's valentine to China Mulan was ready to hit cinemas. Yet even though Niki Caro's film demonstrates loving cultural appreciation, it is bittersweet that it has cheated out of its theatrical status. The camera spinning wire-fu, star-making performance from Yifei Liu, luscious and colourful landscapes, and surprise Ming-Na Wen cameo deserve to be bathed in silver-screen glory. Unfortunately, that cinematic experience will remain as legend.
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