Depending on where you’ve grown up and under which government, Mao’s Last Dancer can either watch like a heavy-handed Western culture/capitalism propaganda piece or like a mostly enjoyable depiction of one man realizing the value of freedom in pursuing one’s dreams. If you feel some sympathy for the legacy of Mao Zedong then you’ll see elements of the former and writhe in a mix of agony and annoyance at the somewhat self-congratulatory tones that run rampant in the story and its dialogue. However, most people, knowing how history actually went, will see the film as the latter, and enjoy how the film chronicles a young boy’s growth from a youth of rigorous dance instruction to the three months spent on exhibition in America in the 1981 that would forever change his life.
As a child, Li Cunxin (Wen Bin Huang) was plucked from anonymity to study ballet in Beijing and was thus given the opportunity of a lifetime, of countless lifetimes really when you consider the severely limited opportunities afforded to Chinese people under Mao’s rule. Determined to become a famous dancer, Li practices and goes the extra mile to gain the strength needed. He gains notoriety as a teenager (Chengwu Guo), surpassing the girl he adores in talent, and eventually attracting the attention of the Chinese government as an adult (Chi Cao), being selected once again for another prestigious honor: to serve as a beacon of Chinese excellence in the imperialist America as a guest dancer with the Houston Ballet. Initially wary of American culture due to a lifetime of indoctrination (education?), Li discovers that he’s been misinformed of the condition of living in America and comes to cherish the freedom his life there affords him under the guidance of Ben Stevenson (Bruce Greenwood), the director of the Houston Ballet. Eventually he becomes a dancing phenomenon with an unexpectedly successful last-minute debut and he falls head-over-heels in love with another dancer, Liz (Amanda Schull). When it comes time to return to China, Li makes a painful decision that puts him at odds with people on all ends.
Mao’s Last Dancer is a true story, inasmuch as any film based on a real-life story is. Co-written by the actual Li Cunxin, the film brilliantly captures the first half of Li’s life before he arrives in America. Watching the training methods of Chinese ballet instructors and the strong sense of community and family pride grounds the film’s jumps back and forth between his childhood and adaptation to life in an America he was utterly unprepared for. These moments are the reason it can feel like an anti-communism propaganda piece, but the fact of the matter is that it’s how Mao’s government works and it’s how Kim Jong-Il’s North Korea works: they severely limit knowledge of the outside world beyond what they want their people to hear. Pre-internet, this cap on the flow of information was devastatingly effective in misinforming a culture and making them believe there is no such thing as a better life. Li Cunxin’s story proves though how enlightening travel can be for worldviews.
The dialogue for the film once Li arrives in America is slightly stilted as it indulges in those familiar comic moments where the language barrier rears its ugly head. Relationships form, uneven and fast, and their endpoint is all but spelled out, but it doesn’t matter. It’s really just there as window dressing for the more important themes of cultural awakening and political power plays.
Mao’s Last Dancer was filmed with a classic look and the stretches in China have a great aesthetic embracing the feel of China’s lived-in and worn-out facilities. The HD is used to great effect and the film definitely benefits from the high-resolution.
Blu-ray Bonus Features
The lone extra feature is a 20-minute exploration of the film’s creation, from its on-location shoots in China to Australia. It’s a genuinely interesting complementary piece and it’s truly a worthwhile watch.
"Mao's Last Dancer" is on sale July 26, 2011 and is rated PG. Drama. Directed by Bruce Beresford. Written by Jan Sardi, Cunxin Li. Starring Bruce Greenwood, Chi Cao, Chengwu Guo, Wen Bin Huang, Amanda Schull.
