The Oppressive Walls of “Raise the Red Lantern”
“Raise the Red Lantern” is a poignant exploration of the oppression of women under the feudalistic ethics of old China. Within the confines of the Chen family compound, individuals become prisoners, their spirits crushed regardless of their innocence, talent, noble birth, or education. Initially, this oppression feels alien, but gradually, submission becomes ingrained, until escape seems impossible. The rituals of lighting, extinguishing, and sealing lanterns mirror the cycles of favor, rivalry, and disgrace. Some fade into old age, others meet their demise, while still others bury their true selves alive. The red lanterns hang high, year after year, a constant backdrop to the ever-changing faces of women transformed from young girls to wives and then to ghosts. The faceless patriarch, Master Chen, embodies the oppressive system itself. No matter how ambitious or proud a woman may be, she ultimately finds herself confined within a different kind of cage. In a society where values are distorted, those who retain their clarity suffer the most.
A Coffin Without Spring
At first glance, the solemn, orderly courtyard resembles a massive coffin, devoid of spring, only experiencing summer, autumn, and winter. It is governed by inviolable rules and exudes an eerie atmosphere, burying countless women within its walls. The feudal ethics that have persisted for millennia serve as the talisman sealing this coffin. Master Chen’s ability to nonchalantly take another concubine stems from his understanding that these “ghosts” pose no greater threat than the rigid social norms. The women trapped within this culture are confined not only physically but also spiritually. Isolated from alternative choices, they are driven to infighting. The mother’s control over Songlian, even before she enters the Chen household, foreshadows the tragic fate awaiting the educated and headstrong young woman. To gain a sliver of value within the feudal system, they resort to subservience and scheming for a son. Feudal ethics are terrifying, transforming individuals without their awareness. The enlightened Third Wife, singing and dancing, boldly asserts her physical autonomy, but pays a steep price for her rebellion, meeting a tragic end. The film also portrays the ill-fated Yan’er, who dreams of a better life but freezes to death in the snow, the scheming Second Wife who hides daggers behind her smile, and the devout First Wife who has lost the will to fight. All are victims of a cannibalistic society, reduced to parasitic plants dependent on men, trapped in a cycle of mutual manipulation, forever denied the light of day.
Symmetry and Confinement
The film’s panoramic shots consistently employ symmetry, emphasizing the confinement of the human spirit under feudal ethics.
Music as an Extension of Meaning
The film’s music, from the desolate flute melodies played by Chen’s eldest son to the Third Wife’s unrestrained yet despairing Peking opera, and the joyous tunes accompanying Songlian’s arrival, creates a sense of extension beyond the visuals. This extension amplifies the film’s oppressive and satirical tones. The music accompanying Songlian’s hesitant and fearful journey towards the “dead man’s house” when the Third Wife is persecuted is suffocating. The film’s ending, with Songlian endlessly circling her courtyard, underscores the film’s message: feudal ethics are the external constraint, while the human heart is the internal prison. The heart becomes a courtyard without an exit, imprisoning and ultimately destroying itself. The cyclical melodies infuse the visuals with a sense of timelessness, immersing the audience in an unending despair, particularly for female viewers who may struggle to find spiritual release. This is the film’s profound impact.
Color and Symbolism
The film’s color palette is pure and vibrant, shifting with the seasons and the protagonist’s emotions, with a predominance of cool tones. This starkness highlights the morbid beauty of the red lanterns, creating a sharp contrast with the surrounding environment. While seemingly festive, they symbolize the oppression of patriarchal power. The film reflects the pervasive phenomenon of male dominance and female subservience in old China, where a wife’s status is derived from her husband and a mother’s from her son. The Third Wife’s audacity to be willful, compete for attention, and challenge the Second Wife, while the latter must endure and conceal her true feelings, stems from the Third Wife’s son, while the Second Wife only has daughters. Women lead tragic lives, like dolls, seemingly “failing” the test of marriage regardless of their education. The extreme desire for status leads to self-destruction. In the patriarchal society where “three women make a drama,” women are the main players, assuming various roles. As the Third Wife says, even the best performance cannot deceive oneself. This is an insurmountable social phenomenon that can only be accurately and profoundly reflected through artistic expression.
The Absent Patriarch
Throughout the film, Master Chen embodies the “Chen family rules,” behind which lies the more extensive and deeply rooted feudal ethics. His recurring appearances, though often indirect, offer different and deeper layers of meaning. Master Chen’s “absence” suggests that feudal ethics invisibly govern people, depriving them of freedom and even the right to be human. This is more insidious and deeply ingrained than visible oppression, sending a chill down the spine.