M. BUTTERFLY
A film review by Scott Renshaw
Copyright 1993 Scott Renshaw
Starring: Jeremy Irons, John Lone. Screenplay: David Henry Hwang, based on his play. Director: David Cronenberg.
I approached the film version of M. BUTTERFLY with something of a "show me" attitude. I'd had the good fortune to see a sensational production of the play by Northern California's TheatreWorks company, with an amazing lead performance by Mark Capri as Gallimard, and I felt that any other version would have to be pretty good to impress me. I also questioned the choice of David Cronenberg, whose previous efforts had all been horror films, as director. It therefore comes as a pleasant surprise that Cronenberg's M. BUTTERFLY maintains a real faithfulness to the basic themes of David Henry Hwang's Tony Award-winning play, although it loses a great deal from the absence of the stage version's Brechtian devices.
M. BUTTERFLY is based on the true story of French diplomat Bernard Boursicot, here called Rene Gallimard. Stationed in Beijing in 1964, Gallimard (Jeremy Irons) is a petty bureaucrat responsible for reviewing expense reports. One evening, he attends an embassy function for a performance of selections from Puccini's opera "Madama Butterfly." The featured vocalist is Song Liling, a mysterious figure who intrigues Gallimard. That intrigue soon leads to an affair, despite a small detail of which Gallimard is apparently unaware: Song (John Lone) is a man. Gaining confidence from his new love, Gallimard is promoted to a position of importance in French intelligence. He and Song carry on their relationship for several years, until an investigation forces him to know all there is to know about the spying game.
It's useless to argue that the story is implausible, based as it is on a real event; M. BUTTERFLY is itself an attempt to explain how it could have happened. Hwang's conclusion is that the Boursicot/Gallimard story is inextricably tied to the perception Westerners hold of the East, that of a culture of subservience. Consequently, they think of all Asians as feminized, making Gallimard's assumption of Song's gender purely cultural. Hwang and Cronenberg convey that sense of Western sexual/political arrogance in lines which draw knowing chuckles, such as Gallimard's assurance to his superior that the Vietnamese would "submit to any show of strength" by the Americans. It's an interesting theme well-explored.
Where I felt M. BUTTERFLY was less successful was in portraying the complexities of Gallimard's character. In the play, he speaks directly to the audience, a device which allows for some ironic observations of his state of mind. The film's more conventional narrative approach makes Gallimard less pathetic than he should be. Lost also is the impression that before meeting Song, Gallimard is timid and sexually inept; it is only after asserting dominance over his "Butterfly" that he becomes a "real man." Without this aspect of his personality evident, his vulnerability to the deception doesn't make as much sense. There should be a clear sense that psychologically, he *needs* Song to be a woman, and it's not quite there.
Such an emphasis on Gallimard's psychology would also have gone far toward making John Lone a credible choice as Song. B. D. Wong, the head biotechnician in JURASSIC PARK and the originator of Song on Broadway, was once attached to the film, but was passed over when Lone became available. The choice was a mistake. Lone's voice has an eerie, detached quality which I liked for its mysterious allure, but the fact is that he just looks too masculine, and an eight foot high close-up doesn't exactly promote illusion. Irons is a much better choice as Gallimard. He's great at showing Gallimard's cocky Eurocentrist side, and I loved his oddly amused expression when he first sees Song dressed as a man. Once again, however, it was the impotent Gallimard who disappeared, particularly in the too-brief look at his other extra-marital affair, where what should have been disgust instead becomes mere surprise.
M. BUTTERFLY is a fascinating story, and its screen telling is more than fair to the stage spirit. I only wish Hwang had been allowed to keep the focus on the internal. It's a good film that could have been a very good one.
On the Renshaw scale of 0 to 10 counts of espionage: 6.
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