Broken Blossoms (1919)
By: D.W. Griffith (director, writer), Thomas Burke (story)
Starring: Lillian Gish, Richard Barthelmess, Donald Crisp
A frail waif, abused by her brutish boxer father in London’s seedy Limehouse District, is befriended by a sensitive Chinese immigrant with tragic consequences.
We’re taking it way back today, all the way to 1919 and a time when movies were still silent. I had to watch Broken Blossoms for one of my film studies classes, and while it’s a pretty significant film, I was also really pleased to discover it’s a very engaging and sincerely excellent film, as well.
When I sat down to watch this one, I was really worried it would be boring or simply odd; I’m in two film studies classes right now, and both are currently discussing early movie making. I’ve been watching a lot of silent clips and shorts, and while they certainly have historical significance, mostly they just make me think that people at the turn of the century were unaccountably strange. The first ten minutes or so of Broken Blossoms isn’t that interesting, and I thought for sure I was doomed to an hour and a half snore.
Fortunately, the story picks up and maintains a solid momentum after that first ten minutes, telling the tale of a Chinese merchant living in London who falls unwittingly in love with a fifteen year old Caucasian girl who lives near his shop with her abusive, pugilist father. I made the mistake of thinking that just because it was silent, this film might be simple; on the contrary, it’s surprisingly complex, tackling difficult subjects such as racial tolerance, interracial romance and child abuse without making a spectacle of any of them. Broken Blossoms is a wistful, tragic love story, and while it unfortunately does feature white actors in yellowface (Commonplace for the time), it portrays the central characters with care and compassion.
Being made in 1919, there are definitely some racial quirks to be had, such as constantly referring to the Chinese character as “the Yellow Man” and occasionally “Chink,” but I have to assume that D.W. Griffith didn’t hold the same animosity towards Asians as he did blacks, as the character is fully-developed and astonishingly multi-layered for the time the film was released, not just as an Asian character but a character in general. To be honest, I’m still a little bit in awe, not least of all because this was done in 1919, and we’ve apparently really not come very far since that time with regards to our film portrayals of people of color.
Broken Blossoms was gorgeous and overwhelming, and while I watched it for class, I would happily watch it again or even purchase it to keep. It’s certainly a great film to view for academic purposes, but it’s also a brilliant piece of work in its own right, and I highly recommend it to everyone.
Edited to add: Some reviews/analysis of the film that might help better explain the themes to those not familiar with Griffith or the time period: Roger Ebert and Screen Savour
I also had to watch this for a class (Asian Americans in Film and Video) and found it fairly remarkable for the period in its artistry, though certainly problematic in more ways than one. DW Griffith was a scary man, but he was a ridiculously effective and talented filmmaker, and he was in fact making an intentionally sympathetic piece.
And as you noted, the portrayal of POC hasn’t gone very far–not to mention the portrayal of Asian men and the concept of yellowface. While it’s not the only recent example, the Tiger Beatdown post on Short Circuit still just blows my mind.
Yes, absolutely; Griffith totally made BB because of all the criticism he was getting regarding his depiction of non-whites, and that’s obviously important in historical context, but when I sat down to write this, I decided I needed to focus on the merit of the film as its own entity. Otherwise I would have rambled on for ages about depictions of the Other, character archetypes and the patriarchy, and it occurred to me, but that’s really not what this blog is about. I’m considering posting some sort of meta to Like Neon as a companion piece. I’ve been pondering this review since I wrote it, about whether I ought to have gone into greater detail regarding the ideologies of the time, but I think Roger Ebert made a good, concise point in his own review of the film:
And that’s essentially how I approached it. I have to assume, or at least hope, that anybody reading this understands it’s a film to be viewed as a product of its time.
I read that post about Short Circuit awhile back, and you’re right, it’s appalling. Ultimately, that’s what I took away from BB most: the fact that we’re so fucking slow to let go of racial stereotypes, cultural appropriation and general racial fuckery.
Also, as an aside, I think it probably bears mentioning that I fully expect my attitudes and how I approach the film to change over time, since right now I’m essentially just a layman hashing this stuff out as best I can. I think I’ve got more critical viewing skills than the average person, but I’m nowhere near where I want to be, which naturally is why I’m in school for it. Right now I’m struggling a bit with how genuinely affected I was with the film despite the stereotypes and sort of…sidestepping of the racial issue, and I don’t know if that’s to do with my own privilege or if I’m simply making allowances due to the time period. It’s all really interesting, though.
I think films can affect us regardless of issues, because well-made films have that emotional resonance, even when there are some major issues going on. (I wrote a term paper on Leni Riefenstahl as an undergrad, went into some of this then, too.) I find that I can sometimes ignore or set aside some massively fucked up stuff towards women or LGBTQ people in films and books, things that directly affect me, if it’s presented in the right way, as normal in context.
It’s something hard to grasp and deal with. Definitely won’t pretend I’ve resolved my issues with that yet.