Xiu Xiu

This is a very powerful movie about a very important and real subject. It made its point very forcefully with the use of strong and explicit scenes that I'm afraid have been with me ever since I watched this movie and promise to appear in my mind day and night for quite some time. I hate to say that I wish I hadn't seen a well-made movie, but that is the case here. If you are very emotionally affected by movies like I am, I recommend that you pick up a good book about the history of sexual politics in China instead.

Joan Chen, who has had a modest career as an actress in American films and TV, makes her directorial debut here in this brutal, poignant and beautiful Mandarin language film. Starring Lu Lu as Xiu Xiu, a teenaged girl from the city sent to the country during Mao's cultural revolution, and Lopsang as Lao Jin, a castrated Tibetan nomad who is to teach her horse husbandry, Tian yu is not so much an indictment of communist China as it is an indictment of human nature. Xiu Xiu is brutalized by small-minded bureaucratic males as has happened throughout human history, be they communist or feudal, her innocence and youth traded for an apple, her buoyant hope for life dashed by blind political and economic forces, and her self-respect stolen from her by the twisted logic of rape and lust.

What elevates this story above what we have seen many times before is the striking beauty of the Tibetan countryside and the fine characterizations of both Xiu Xiu and Lao Jin. Lao Jin is a "gelding," made fun of by others, a man of quiet disposition who falls in love with his beautiful young charge, but stands aside because of his impotence. Xiu Xiu has an imperial nature natural to favored girls everywhere, be they Japanese "princesses" or American "valley girls," a nature very well depicted by the script and very well acted out by Lu Lu, whose delicate beauty and spicy temperament clash well with Lao Jin's Taoist stoicism. At one point he remarks wisely that "every place is the same," meaning of course that it is what we bring to the place that really matters. But his wisdom is completely lost on the teenaged girl who wants and needs society and all that it has to offer. And so, the underlying "love affair" between the two can never be...except...as it is in the end.

Lopsang's performance is entirely convincing and Lu Lu is fascinating to watch. Joan Chen did a fine job with both of them while managing to keep politics and political agendas in the background. She concentrated on the human tragedy and made it universal. Both of her central characters had flaws that in some way led to the great sadness that they experienced, and yet they were not to blame. In this naturalistic expression we are reminded of the tragedies of novelists Thomas Hardy and Theodore Dreiser; and of course Chen was influenced by the work of Chinese director Zhang Yimou, in particular his sad, but captivating Raise the Red Lantern (1991) in which a beautiful girl is consumed and brutalized by societal forces of a different nature.

This film misses being a masterpiece because of a hurried resolution leading to an ending that needed a bit more shaping. Nonetheless this is an arresting and compelling drama, beautifully filmed and sensitively directed.

But be forewarned. "Celestial Bath" is a disturbing film not easily shaken from the mind.

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Though there was the usual disclaimer at the end regarding persons living or dead, this film has an undeniable authentic feel.

The Tibetan country-side is at once breathtaking and desolate; a perfect setting for a tale of unimaginable brutality. Far from overwhelming the movie, the music underscores Chen's theme of suffering and injustice visited upon young Chinese girls who were separated from their families and sent to places unknown, never to be heard from or seen again; young girls who were in effect disappeared. This is a film that will stay with me for a long time to come.

What affected me and haunts me most about Xiu Xiu is the character of Lao Jin and his tender, sexless love and caring for Xiu Xiu. He does his best to make her life easier in a place that she hates, and his pain and frustration mount as he sees how she is destroying herself. His deep, sincere, and inarticulate caring for her touched me profoundly. I wished that a romantic love could develop between them (and I am not generally into movie romances -- very few of them really work for me) but that was out of the question from the beginning, since Lao Jin was castrated. That very fact gave their relationship a sense of tragedy from the beginning.

I would love to see more of this Tibetan actor, Lobsang. Imdb info shows this movie as his only film credit.

The locale was spectacular and gorgeously photographed. Only intellectually could I understand Xiu Xiu's dislike of such a gorgeous place (as well as her lack of appreciation for Lao Jin's caring for her). But both characters were very believable and involving, and this sad movie will stay with me for a long time.

This was a truly beautiful film. Joan Chen has directed a movie of uncommon grace, beauty, and sensitivity. She has a subtle hand and an eye for imagery that are almost unrivaled in the movie industry. The two lead actors delivered flawless and engaging performances (and that saying quite a bit considering how little dialogue is exchanged). I really enjoyed watching these three masters displaying their craft.

My only reservation about this movie (here comes a vague plot give away, but it's about the end of the of the movie, so watch out) is that Xui Xui's reaction at the very, very end of the movie seemed psychologically inconsistent with how her character had been developed.