Do ma daan (Peking Opera Blues) (1986)
Screenplay by Raymond To. Directed by Hark Tsui

"For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it. (Matt. 16:25)"

Peking Opera Blues is a richly theatrical film that effectively weaves elements of opera, commedia dell'arte, slapstick, melodrama, and action-adventure. In an unusual twist, director Tsui Hark chose to use three women as his foils in this tale of compounding folly. There are two dueling follies at work in the world of Peking Opera Blues, the folly of the hero and the folly of the villain, articulated through the opposing worldviews of selfish pleasure and selfless sacrifice. In the world of the Peking Opera Blues most of the comedy revolves around physical slapstick, irony, or reversal of gender roles for both the heroes and the villains, but with decidedly different outcomes.

Peking Opera Blues is set in 1913 China, the land is in political upheaval as the conversion from millennia of imperialism to democracy left a power-vacuum, filled by territorial warlords. The story begins under the auspices that the conflict is between two feuding warlords, but the audience is soon to discover that the real drama is between those who do what they believe is right for China (democracy) and those whose sole aim is consumerist pleasure.

Director Hark takes a biting jab at the malignancy of consumer-driven pleasure by deftly switching gender-roles in several hilariously uncomfortable scenes. One of the first of these scenes involves the villainous ticketing officer commenting on an "actress" (a man named Fa, playing a woman) stating "not bad, prettier than the guy next door" then proceeding to demand that Fa become his wife. The overtly feminine actor responds, "I'm a MAN" through tears and dramatic gestures.

Moments later one of the many magnificent chase sequences takes place, during which one of the supporting heroes (Ling Pak-Hoi) is taken captive for a brief moment. The ticketing officer laughs at his good fortune, but when the tables are turned and Ling Pak-Hoi takes him captive at gunpoint, his response is much different: "doesn't he think I'm human?" the officer asks incredulously through tears. The moment is poignant not only because it illustrates the switch in traditional gender roles (men are supposed to be courageous) more importantly because it offers insight into the worldview of the selfish. Here we see that the ticketing officer (and by extension the rest of the villains) regard themselves alone as truly human and therefore weighted with innate value.

Watch carefully as several of the father characters also illustrate a selfish world-view through physical comedy and dramatic irony. One example is the theater owner splashing his daughters face in a bucket of water to wash off her stage makeup. "Women are not allowed in the theater. I'll lose face." Or take the dark irony in the scene involving General Tsao and his daughter, Tsao Wan; "always look out for yourself." General Tsao says, completely unaware that his daughter is betraying him at great danger to herself, and in an effort to preserve the infancy of democracy in China.

The counterpunch to this type of selfish pleasure is a sacrificial worldview in which a character views others in society more highly then oneself. This of course looks like folly as it denies the human instinct for self-preservation, sometimes with hilarious consequences.

Take for example the scene in which the theater owner's daughter Pat Neil takes the place of Fa on stage, allowing Fa to escape out the window. The audience watching the play has an "ah-ha" moment as they realize "women are not allowed in the theater but that is a woman, playing a man, playing a woman!" At the same moment the audience in the movie theater has an "ah-ha" moment in the spirit of folly, as they see a woman making a sacrificial move so that Fa can escape. Coincidentally, Pat Neil has always wanted to perform in the theater! So here as a side affect to her socially dangerous act, she is given the opportunity to do the thing she had dreamed of, but would never have been allowed to do under any other circumstance.

This is what sociologist Peter Berger references in his book Redeeming Laughter:

"The origins of the comic experience are found to be very close to he encounter with the numinous. Both phenomena bring about the perception of a magically transformed world and, for this reason: both are dangerous when they reach a certain degree of intensity. Dangerous to what? Dangerous, precisely, to the maintenance of ordinary, everyday reality or, if you will, to the business of living. Both phenomena produce ecstasies-literally, experiences of standing outside ordinary reality." (Berger, 206-207).

Pat Neil has this dangerous epiphany, as she makes a decision that has Fa's best interest at heart and seems like pure folly to the selfish world, suddenly it is as if God Himself has granted her deepest wish as a reward for her selflessness, even blessing her performance causing a call for an encore the following night. At this point Pat Neil's eyes are opened and she leaves the ordinary "business of living" effectively closing that door for the duration of the film. Each of the heroines has a similar experience through sacrifice, as their desires are met only after they are given up.

In the end, the villains come off looking like caricatures with a limited depth of emotion, while the heroines experience distress, pride, friendship and loyalty. However they have to experience these things in secret, as they are acting in the world of the selfish, thus making them the fools on screen, while paradoxically these women make sense to the audience in the movie theater.

One final irony: the word blues in the title doesn't seem to make sense without the context. These freedom fighters win this battle, but end up losing the war. Democracy does not survive in China, thus, the real fools (at least those worth having the blues over) are the Chinese people.

Berger, Peter L. Redeeming Laughter: The Comic Dimension to the Human Experience. New York: De Gruyter, 1997.

Tim Johnson has been producing for the past six years, with experience on over 30 projects including several international documentaries. Tim graduated from Azusa Pacific University with a degree in Communication: emphasis in media.

© Tim Johnson