“Mulan” I’ll make a remake out of you

By: David Ma

“Mulan” feels like the thousandth remake of a Disney classic to come out in the past few years, and yet its circumstances are notably different. Released during a global pandemic, the movie missed out on all the fanfare of the big screen and will only be viewed in living rooms across the world, a testament to how deeply COVID-19 has affected us all. The price of $30 on top of a Disney+ subscription seems like a lot to some, perhaps fair to others, and I’m sure Disney’s marketing team thought long and hard about the exact price point that would maximize their profit. The question is: was it worth it? 

Its release solely on a streaming platform takes a toll on the movie’s aesthetics, undoubtedly gorgeous shots of mountains and palaces constrained to small screens that do little to accentuate the movie’s visual beauty. And it is a visual spectacle if nothing else, a vibrant melange of colors that pops out of the screen. An avalanche is an overwhelming wash of white, the capital is speckled with glittering greens and reds, and Mulan’s travels across the land showcase masterpieces of natural beauty.

Directed by Niki Caro and starring an ensemble cast of Asian and Asian-American actors—Liu Yifei as Mulan, Donnie Yen as her commander, and Jet Li as the Emperor, just to name a few—“Mulan” is a retelling of a story that many of us already know. The titular heroine disguises herself as a man to conscript in place of her aging father, fighting a war while keeping her identity secret. 

Although the plot is tried and true, the execution leaves something to be desired. For a two-hour movie, it felt rushed, not giving any moment sufficient time to be truly impactful. The movie tries to be a children’s tale, a commentary on gender roles, a representation of Chinese-American cinema, and a war movie all rolled into a single Disney package. That’s too much to aim for all at once, and those goals inevitably clutter the movie.

Going from animation to live action inherently sacrifices the childhood whimsy that cartoon exaggerations allow, and “Mulan” does little to recapture that feeling. The choice to remove Mushu in the live action is another notable loss, leaving the film without much of the humor and mischief of the original. Caro clearly chose to adopt a more serious tone with her direction, but by doing so she fails to find that blend of seriousness and comedy that made the original so beloved. 

Indeed, the seriousness of “Mulan” makes it more akin to a war film, and there’s a distinct scene where Mulan and her comrades are walking through the aftermath of a battle, filled with scorched bodies and desolation, that evokes the horrors of war. Combat is one of its stronger suits; the fight scenes are well choreographed, with the characters channeling wuxia movement to dance around the battlefield in stunning displays of motion. At the same time, though, the movie usually fails to find the gravitas that war films require, leaving it feeling more like children playing at being soldiers rather than a true life or death battle.

Of course, it would be impossible for me to review “Mulan” without touching on its impact beyond the screen. “Mulan” is one of few films with active Chinese-American representation, something that I inherently consider positive. However, I can hardly consider it a classic of Asian-American cinema; while everyone in front of the camera is Asian, almost nobody behind the camera can say the same. From its producers to directors to writers, Mulan is constrained by its Disney boardroom roots, rendering it a false representation of Chinese culture. At the end of the day, all that it really has going for it is its acting cast, although that is (unfortunately) a sizable accomplishment when I can count the number of blockbuster Asian-dominated films on one hand.

Of course, the controversies that have plagued “Mulan” are a whole new can of worms, distinct and yet interlinked with the issue of Asian representation in Hollywood. There have been calls to boycott “Mulan,” both because the lead actress Liu Yifei made an anti-Hong Kong protest post and because filming was done in Xinjiang, the location of many Uighur Muslim detention camps. I could easily write an entirely separate piece about those human rights violations, as well as my relationship to them as a Chinese-American, but I can only offer a cursory perspective here. So here we go, even though I’m still not sure how to make sense of my thoughts.

It’s undeniable that there are human rights violations being committed by the Chinese ruling government. By working with the Chinese government, Disney is undoubtedly sending a message that they care more about their profit than they do human rights issues—not that this is a surprising message, given the fact that Disney is unquestionably profit driven to its core. A slightly more nuanced take is that the massive backlash against “Mulan” was caused because of the scapegoating of China. As someone who browses Internet discussion boards relatively regularly, I have seen a massive rise in anti-Chinese sentiment recently, as though by focusing on the issues with the Chinese government we can ignore issues elsewhere. This is not necessarily a bad thing; the Chinese Communist Party ought to face criticism. But why boycott “Mulan” but not Disney? China has become an easy and visible target to criticize for both sides of the aisle, but it becomes vaguely uncomfortable when that vitriol starts to feel like it’s aimed at China and all it represents, instead of only the oppressive policies of the regime.

If Hollywood continues to try and bring in native Chinese actors, this is not the last we’ve seen of these types of controversies. But even without the shadows of these issues plaguing the film, it fails to be anything spectacular from a cinematic standpoint. 

After I finished the movie, sitting in my living room with a couple of my roommates, I asked one of them what he’d thought. His response was “sufficiently entertaining”—that is to say, filled with enough spectacle to pass two hours without much complaint. But it ultimately falls short of its lofty goals, leaving it just another mediocre remake.

Wake Mag