Phew! – what would the world have done in the last few centuries without the missionary zeal of a handful of Caucasian heroes and heroines, who dragged the benighted places of the earth to their present enlightened heights, to the everlasting glory of God, themselves and, er
Hollywood? OK OK, I'm being a bit unfair to a very enjoyable film – and the real life woman whose story inspired it – to suggest that "The Inn of the Sixth Happiness" is blighted by the tendency to glorify the (Caucasian) individual at the expense of the (native) group. If you can watch it in context it's great cinema. Radiant Ingrid Bergman plays, somewhat implausibly but nonetheless effectively, the former servant Gladys Aylward, another in the long history of famous English Eccentrics, whose missionary zeal takes her quixotically on a difficult journey to a remote northern province of China. There, in the period leading up to WWII and Japan's attack on China, she becomes an indispensable part of the community, in no small part due to her work as the local Mandarin's Foot Inspector, travelling the province to enforce the new law banning the binding of women's feet. Along the way her life is shaped by her evolving friendship with the Mandarin himself, and her initially difficult relationship with handsome, bitter Captain Lin Nan.
That the Mandarin and Lin Nan are both played by Caucasian actors is not surprising for the 1950s, but is distracting and annoying. This casts no discredit on the actors themselves. Robert Donat's last film performance as the ageing, wily Mandarin, and Curt Jurgens' powerful study of a cold military man whose life is turned upside down, are both excellent, nuanced and committed. Bergman really throws herself into the part, and a large cast lend believability. Yang, the Chinese cook, adds comic humour with his entertainingly tall Bible tales; and there's a welcome appearance by the charismatic Burt Kwouk.
So I gleefully overlook the outdated attitudes and conventions, and immerse myself in a different world with great pleasure – but I take even greater pleasure from knowing that in the modern age, each country gets to tell their own stories, without Caucasian interference. Now great directors such as Ang Lee, Zhang Yimou, Ki-duk Kim, Kitano Takeshi, Mohsen Makhmalbaf and Idrissa Ouedraogo show the western world how it's done.
That the Mandarin and Lin Nan are both played by Caucasian actors is not surprising for the 1950s, but is distracting and annoying. This casts no discredit on the actors themselves. Robert Donat's last film performance as the ageing, wily Mandarin, and Curt Jurgens' powerful study of a cold military man whose life is turned upside down, are both excellent, nuanced and committed. Bergman really throws herself into the part, and a large cast lend believability. Yang, the Chinese cook, adds comic humour with his entertainingly tall Bible tales; and there's a welcome appearance by the charismatic Burt Kwouk.
So I gleefully overlook the outdated attitudes and conventions, and immerse myself in a different world with great pleasure – but I take even greater pleasure from knowing that in the modern age, each country gets to tell their own stories, without Caucasian interference. Now great directors such as Ang Lee, Zhang Yimou, Ki-duk Kim, Kitano Takeshi, Mohsen Makhmalbaf and Idrissa Ouedraogo show the western world how it's done.