Niki Caro
Mulan

Mulan, along with The Lion King, is the Disney movie of my childhood, the one I loved and watched the most times (the first time being directly in the cinema).

Beyond the "philosophical" reflections regarding the phenomenon of live-action remakes, seeing certain films, certain stories, come alive again on the big screen is a reason for deep emotion anyway.

After watching Burton's Dumbo (beautiful and criticized in a decidedly biased and unfair manner) and, indeed, Favreau's shot-for-shot The Lion King (which, in many ways, was a true sociological phenomenon: since the original film, unlike Dumbo and The Jungle Book, was relatively recent, two or three generations went to the cinema to relive that timeless story with Shakespearean nuance, now in photorealistic version), I also awaited this new Mulan, which I would have gladly watched again in the cinema. And for which, given the temporal distance of only two decades, the same generational discussion could apply.

There's indeed an important premise to make. This film, just as with the other aforementioned examples, is mortified by viewing it on the small screen. The virtually exclusive sense of a film like this, in fact, is the cinema screening, which can enhance its undeniable chromatic, choreographic, and spectacular magnificence.

But, as we know, the film could never be distributed due to the pandemic until the decision to release it directly on the Disney+ platform.

Niki Caro's Mulan 2020 certainly pays homage to the world of Wuxia, and although the true modern masterpieces of the genre (the various Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Hero, The Assassin...) remain far off, at various moments even this remake of the late-century Disney classic holds its stance and defends itself more than worthily, always speaking visually. In certain scenes, it also impresses and is a pleasure for the eyes. On the other hand, we are still talking about a work with a budget of 300 million.

Then there's another premise to make. Compared to the original, the story maintains almost only the starting premise, the main plot aspect, linked to the legendary figure of the Chinese heroine, at war against the Empire's invaders, but loses every other real point of contact with the animated film. Which wasn't a bad thing, in fact, it gave it an additional reason for interest in seeing the revised work. Even if with the heavy distortions due to political correctness reasons, which led to the decision to eliminate certain characters to give the operation a further feminist tone.

The feminist message, by the way, is certainly accentuated here, but, for this reason, not strengthened. On the contrary. The original film was already extraordinary in this and was not improvable in any way in the representation of such a beautiful and moving parable of emancipation, rebellion, and the search for one's identity.

It is precisely the emotional side that gets strangled in this new version. Also because of one of the main substantial differences: in the cartoon, Mulan was a girl with a big heart but also very clumsy and introverted, without particular natural talents, beyond innate courage and great tenacity; here, instead, she is a warrior already super-gifted and simply has to repress her exceptional abilities for being a woman in a male and patriarchal world.

In this, the two Mulans find a point of connection of purely cultural origin: being figures to whom the oppressive role given by Tradition is too tight in their search for their place in the world.

If in the case of the first Mulan, everyone could identify and it was impossible not to feel empathy for her, here it is quite the opposite. Identification is difficult, we have a protagonist with charisma close to zero, and every great reason for pathos, as I said, is really strangled, with the addition of truly nonsensical and humiliating didacticism. And, aside from the feminist aspect mentioned above, the typical reassuring family values for the general public are still not called into question.

To save it all, at least the presence of the divine Gong Li, who still today maintains an incomparable charm, a stage presence that penetrates the screen even thirty years after her revelation to the world with the absolute masterpiece Raise the Red Lantern.

Compared to the original, we must also forget the irony and, in general, all the magic that made that classic unforgettable and immortal.

Originally, Ang Lee was supposed to direct it. Who knows how it would have been. Certainly better, even if Mulan 2020 is not entirely to be discarded. But the bitter taste in the mouth remains.