REVIEW: "Memoirs of a Geisha": Nominated for Worst Screenplay; Worst Ensemble; and Worst Director of the Year

January 16, 2006

NOTE: This review will be made without any mention of ethnicity, history, etc. This will focus ONLY on the merits of the film itself, and not any of the editorial, creative, etc. decisions.

In the $85 million historical drama Memoirs of a Geisha, director Rob Marshall has achieved the complete opposite of his success with his wonderful film Chicago. Geisha, a dreary, long, rambling film, is worthy of Oscar nominations for Best Cinematography and Best Art Direction -- and for Golden Turkey nominations for Worst Screenplay, Worst Performance by an Ensemble, and quite possibly Worst Director of the Year.

Every single actor in Geisha is guilty of severly overacting in a film whose subject absolutely demands subtlety and restraint. Several performances were so bad that they actually became flat caricatures, the actors mercilessly delivering every lines in exactly the same manner, utterly devoid of any emotional complexity or character depth.

The actors are not necessarily bad actors. But they, like the film itself, are hopelessly crippled by the meandering, unfocussed screenplay by Robin Swicord, filled with all the poorly-written dialogue, contrived situations, and empty conflicts of Arthur Golden's original novel.

The film's art direction and cinematography are undeniably beautiful. But pretty pictures cannot overcome the story's fundamental problem of a completely passive protagonist. Geisha's main character, Sayuri, never once did anything without someone telling her to do it. It was like watching a doll being passed from one owner to another: the doll doesn't actually DO anything, just goes along as its owner walks around the house.

Swicord either did not, or was not allowed to, address this obvious problem. A passive protagonist is a boring protagonist. And it makes for an extremely boring film.

Chicago, directed by Marshall, showed his ability to create great things on screen. In that film, he succeeded in creating an entirely new world, one completely alien yet compelling enough to draw audiences completely inside of it. The excellent perfomances of every member of his cast in Chicago can (arguably) be attributed to his skill as a director.

Directors are responsible for the performances you see on the screen. They have the power to hire actors; to fire actors for doing unacceptably bad jobs; to spend as much time as necessary with actors to coax the performance of their lives out of them. Directors also have the power and authority to change a script anytime, even after the last minute, if they think of a way to improve a line or see a problem that needs fixing.

But in Memoirs of a Geisha, Marshall allowed his actors to get away with performances that would be rejected by first-year film students. Flat line readings. One-note performances. Gross caricatures of character types rather than fully-realized human beings on the screen. You may blame the actors for performing badly, but the director had the power to fix that. And from what is on the screen in this film, Marshall clearly did not exercise his authority well.

Marshall also allowed the fantastically flawed script -- again, filled with problems that beginning film students could spot in a second -- to remain as bad as what made it onto the screen.

He failed in all of his responsibilities and privileges as a director. By not working hard enough to make the acting performances or screenplay great, Rob Marshall has earned his Golden Turkey for Worst Director of 2005.

I certainly hope everyone involved bounces back in 2006.

-- KEISUKE HOASHI