The scene where Zhao Lele murders her father is so shocking that only watching the movie can truly convey its impact. The blood of her father flowing everywhere, the two women passionately kissing, the thunderous storm—if divine retribution were to descend, these two would deserve to die together.
·Fourth poem·
"To be honest, I would rather die. When she left, she wept for a long time. She said to me, 'This parting must be endured, Sappho. I am not going willingly.'"
"Without our voices, there would be no chorus; without songs, there would be no flowering forest."
—Sappho, "I Didn't Hear Her Say a Word"
Before leaving the Zhao family, Lin Fengyu had this poem spread out on the poetry collection on his desk.
After Zhao Cheng's death, the Zhao family fell apart. Lin Fengyu and Zhao Lele fled to a small fishing village by the sea. There, Lin Fengyu finally found herself again, but Zhao Lele, out of jealousy, gathered Zhao Cheng's comrades and destroyed the village.
It's no exaggeration to say that Ye Chu delivered her most outstanding performance to date in the scene where Lin Fengyu dies. When that scene played in the film, the premiere was filled with sobs. I don't want to talk about that part anymore; I still can't bear to recall that scene. I just feel that everyone was in so much pain. It was too painful. Rebellion, destruction, destruction, destruction—if we had known the inevitable destruction, would we still have rebelled?
·Fifth poem·
"Tonight I watched the moon and the Pleiades sink one after another. The night is coming to an end, youth has passed, and I lie alone on my bed, stiff and lifeless."
—Sappho, "Tonight I Look"
As the film nears its end, the elderly Zhao Lele enters a nursing home, where a director named Luo Yao frequently visits her. One day, Zhao Lele suddenly asks Luo Yao to recite this poem to her.
The film thus came to an end. Zhao Lele, her youth gone, rambled on incoherently about the past, before passing away in a state of madness and delirium.
While sorting through her belongings, Luo Yao discovered a letter Lin Fengyu had left for Zhao Lele. It was this letter that gave Zhao Lele the last glimmer of hope to live, allowing her to survive.
This letter is the crux of the entire film, arguably its most ingenious and masterful touch. Tomorrow I will dedicate a film review to analyzing this letter…
That concludes my discussion of the five poems. Now, I'll share my thoughts on the film.
The politically correct stance in today's world is "love is not about gender" and "Love is love." But director Luo Yao defies this trend and goes against the grain, depicting a love affair in "The Forest Without Flowers" that can only happen between women.
It is precisely because Lin Fengyu is a woman that she suffers this tragic fate. If she were a man, she would never have had the chance to enter the Zhao mansion.
Because Zhao Lele is a woman, from Zhao Cheng's perspective, she is merely a sexually harmless object—the love between lesbians is often automatically downgraded to friendship or sisterhood from a patriarchal perspective; "women are just so mushy." If Zhao Lele were a son, she would never have had the opportunity to be alone with Lin Fengyu.
It is precisely because Lin Fengyu is a woman that she can become the object of Zhao Lele's emotional projection after losing her mother at a young age; it is precisely because Zhao Lele is a woman that she is naturally regarded as harmless and powerless, so Lin Fengyu can be dulled to the point that her undisguised exploitation, oppression and encroachment on Lin Fengyu are categorized as playfulness and willfulness.
When Zhao Lele realizes that her love for Lin Fengyu is not maternal attachment, it will be the day her father, Zhao Cheng, dies.
When Lin Fengyu realizes that Zhao Lele and Zhao Cheng are essentially oppressors, it will be the end for her, the oppressed.
Only women can love each other like this.
After the film ended, I had a heated debate with another film critic. This critic argued that Zhao Lele was a traitor to the patriarchal system because she betrayed the self-combed women. I firmly disagreed: Zhao Lele was never loyal to any person or system. The entire world, including Lin Fengyu, was merely a footnote to her own life. If the interpretation of that footnote didn't suit her, then whether it was her biological father Zhao Cheng, the self-combed women, or even General Qian, whom she nearly killed, she would erase them all.
She did not betray one class in order to convert to another; in her eyes, she was merely a diligent proofreader, correcting the errors in the world.
In terms of logical coherence and well-developed characters, Lin Fengyu far surpasses Zhao Lele. She has a complete growth storyline, her own cunning, ideals, wisdom, and drive. However, throughout the entire film, I couldn't take my eyes off Zhao Lele.
In reality, we always pursue rationality and logic; but in art, we cannot help but be moved by the ultimate.
"The Forest Without Flowers" is a typical character-driven film. All the conflicts arise from Lin Fengyu and Zhao Lele. "What will they do?" This is the question we were most curious about while watching the film.
Zhao Lele is an extremely rare character in the entire history of gay films.
Repression, marginalization, misinterpretation, and self-harm are the main emotional components of LGBTQ+ films. Homosexual characters are often imbued with strong self-pity. But Zhao Lele is a hungry, aggressive, proactive, and predatory character. She has not a trace of self-pity, nor any shame or fear.
She didn't see Lin Fengyu as a salvation because of her own repression, because her life was devoid of any repression. She didn't fall in love with a woman to fight against patriarchal oppression, because she herself was the oppressor. Nor did she turn to a woman because she was heartbroken by a man; in fact, the boys her father introduced to her were all completely at her mercy.
She was a born lesbian; her love carried no educational significance or rebellious intent, stemming solely from her own desires and instincts. Lin Fengyu lured out her true nature, ultimately leading to her destruction.
A monster who is extremely loyal to himself.
Only a deformed product shaped by the combined forces of patriarchal neglect and indulgence, the lack of maternal education, and the nurturing of class privilege could possess such a character. Only when the privileged class of the old era has not yet fallen, and the winds of thought of the new era have already blown in, during the transition between the old and new eras, a time of utter chaos and a lack of faith, could such a monster be cultivated.
This is what makes Zhao Lele unique. A different era, a different place, a different background—none of these extraordinary individuals could have been born. Words like Lin Feng's are common, but Zhao Lele's are rare.
"The Forest Without Flowers" is not a heartwarming film about two women finding redemption from each other; rather, it's a story of two women devouring, dragging, and destroying each other. Of course, it could also be described as an epic tale of an unfortunate woman and a violent, eccentric woman, even with a hint of infantile oral fixation…
I have never seen such a coexistence of restlessness and poetry, of roughness and tenderness in a film, which does not focus on redemption but emphasizes the destructive love of women.
Logically speaking, few actresses would dare to play the role of Zhao Lele. After all, they would have to be prepared to be criticized. But Ye Chu did it, and she did it so well that I couldn't even believe that the woman in the picture was her.
When I published my review of "The Mute Woman" before, I said that Ye Chu's portrayal of Guan Yue filled a gap in the history of Chinese films regarding the role of underprivileged teenagers. It was a milestone.
Now, I want to say that Ye Chu's portrayal of Zhao Lele has expanded the territory of lesbian characters in gay films, enriched the character images in this genre, and has a landmark significance!
Of course, Ye Chu and Yang Huanyi are both excellent actors. But personally, I still prefer Zhao Lele a little more. Even though Zhao Lele is a complete scoundrel, who wouldn't pity her when she shed tears for Lin Fengyu?
My friend, unlike me, has become a staunch anti-Ye Chu after watching the movie (laughs). But in any case, if the actors' performances weren't superb, we would never have such a big disagreement.
To be honest, during the movie, I even had a moment of disbelief, thinking the two actors were truly in love. Zhao Lele's gaze towards Lin Fengyu was so deep and passionate, while Lin Fengyu's gaze towards Zhao Lele was so...repressed. Like an active volcano and a dormant volcano. Of course, this was just my illusion from being too immersed in the drama. Sometimes it's like that; the audience is often more invested in the story than the actors (laughs).
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