DANIEL SCHWENDINGER
ENGLISH
11/30/2018
M. BUTTERFLY:
A SHIFT IN BALANCE
M. Butterfly is a very interesting subject within the theatrical world. It is a play that serves three very significant features. The play itself is made as a criticism and deconstruction of Orientalist stereotypes, a subversion of Giacomo Puccini’s opera, Madama Butterfly, and a retelling of a true event — the honeypot affair between Bernard Bouriscot, a French diplomat, and a (male) Chinese actor and spy, Shi Pei Pu. The play itself does not follow these events completely, but it does serve as a recognizable dramatization of the romance, and its criticism of the orientalist mindset and fetishization is incredibly powerful. In 1993, M. Butterfly was adapted into a film directed by David Cronenberg. While both the screenplay and the theatrical script were written by the same author, David Henry Hwang, there are some differences in characterization in both the film and the play that cause different reactions from the viewer.
As Puccini’s Madama Butterfly was told as a tragedy, based upon the love and loss of an uncaring and neglectful man by a submissive stereotype of a Japanese woman, David Henry Hwang fully utilized the opportunity to make a piece of art that took a stance in opposition to that. The depiction of Song as the opera singer playing Butterfly herself is incredibly on the nose, and sets up an incredible subversion of character that is guaranteed to be thrilling. However, Hwang and Cronenberg’s versions of this story handle the aspects of the subversion quite differently through the characterization of Song and Rene.
The first difference presents itself at the opening scenes of each piece of media. Within the written script, the story is immediately obvious as as a retelling of a man’s life through flashbacks. The opening scene, in fact, begins with Rene Gallimard, our starring male, in prison, sitting with a tape recorder, capturing the countless stories of the times he had with Song. However, in the film, it differs. The film opens directly upon the image of when a young french diplomat, Rene Gallimard, is viewing an performance of Giacomo Puccini’s Madama Butterfly. Croenberg’s M. Butterfly seems to skip over any evidence of the events being flashbacks at the start of the film. The only time we are made aware that this story has been, in fact, a retelling of his life, is at the end, where it is posited that Rene’s dramatic scenes in front of his audience in prison has been what, we, the viewers of the film, have been seeing.
This means that in the play, we are immediately made aware of the emotional states at the end of this story. It gives us context for Rene’s storytelling. The film ends on a similar scene, but we are not given the as much understanding that Rene has perhaps planned and thought this dramatization through, and the performance in the closing scene seems more unplanned. With this, it can be argued that the awareness given at the beginning of the play of the fact that it consists of flashbacks prepares the audience for the incredibly dramatic end of the story.
Within the play, Gallimard is given more depth – He is a man full of insecurity for his lack of social skills, the status of his career, and his appearance, most of which stem from a childhood full of rejection. In the first scene of the play, he reflects upon his social difficulties and rejection from his peers by stating that he was “the least likely to be invited to a party (Act 1, scene 2)”, and then within this scene he goes on to express that the only social benefit he has now is to make people laugh. He is ridiculed by his peers, and that makes him unhappy. Because he was so dissatisfied with his image and self as a child and still continues to be somewhat dissatisfied the boost in confidence and power he recieves when becoming involved with Song is a drastic shift. In the written script, we see that Rene, when “loved by… the perfect woman” (Hwang, act 1, scene 3), his Butterfly, is allowed to leave his insecurities of rejection behind and become quite an uncaring and manipulative person.
In the film, Rene is, physically, very handsome, and while it is clear that he is both slightly socially inept in the way he speaks (especially towards Song at the beginning of their communications) and that he is still very insecure about his achievements within his career and ridiculed by his peers, he does not maintain that light that this is a drastic power shift for him. This creates the atmosphere that his involvement in this affair (and subsequent betrayal), as well as his obvious need for dominance, is brought on entirely by a want for something different. This makes him seem more undeserving of the events of his romance with Song.
Song causes a remarkable amount trouble in this relationship as well. She is a man disguised as a woman for his acting career, but Rene never notices, or at least refuses to acknowledge it. Throughout their relationship, Song purposely perpetuates the Orientalism that Rene displays, sexpressing that she cannot undress herself, yet she can please a man, as she was taught the ancient Chinese ways, and she cannot depart too far from her culture’s expectations. She completely acts with the stereotypes of submissiveness, creating a very clear dominance for Rene, despite her actions as a spy and her betrayal to her lover.
It is made obvious that Song actions are for her country and the Communist party’s benefit, but it does become obvious, at least within the play, that she loves Rene. Her reasonings for her entire facade are understandable, and while still despicable and improper, she is doing it to serve a perceived better purpose. It is not forgivable, but Song is doing what she believes she must do in order for her, her country and her political party to stay safe. In the film, this is seen as something she must do, but within the script, it seems more heartbreaking.
To add context to the difference in Song’s feeling of love for Rene, there is the court scene. The tone that is heard from Song during and after they are seen within the court is smug, almost vindictive, while in the written script, at least afterwards, it seems more desperate — marked especially by his question of “So you never really loved me? Only when I was playing a part?” and after Rene’s quite succinct rejection, his cry of “What am I supposed to do now?” (Hwang, Act 3, scene 3) brings a very sad sense of loneliness to the play. However, even though this is a scene with little difference in dialogue in the film, you can see that the feeling drawn out by the tone and the work of the camera have created a different, more upsetting atmosphere.
Of course, to tie in with the differences of the beginning of the story, there is also the difference of the end. Again, within the play there is a link between the two. Rene is obviously within prison in both scenes. However, he is only in prison within the end of the film. There are also differences within his performance. In the play, we see that Rene is not alone onstage through the entire scene. There are dancers that contribute to the performance, helping him to put on his makeup and his costume of Butterfly. These dancers interact with him as he monologues of his “vision” of “the Orient” (Hwang, Act 3, scene 3), but also as he expresses sincerity in his love for Song, making it clear that he at least somewhat believes he was undeserving of Song’s care. Towards the end, The dancers hand him the knife he uses to slit his throat. As he does this, Song is observing from nearby, calling out to him, smoking a cigarette.
In the film, Rene is alone. He is obviously recreating the ending of Puccini’s Opera, showing himself as the victim, a long actor soliloquizing on a stage. He dons his makeup on his own. Interestingly, the ending of the film does borrow dialogue from the beginning of the play, most notably Rene’s soft speaking of “I, Rene Gallimard, have known and loved… by the perfect woman.” (Cronenberg) In this borrowing of dialogue as well as his new monologue and distinct announcement of himself as Madame Butterfly, we can see that Rene is portraying himself as the true victim of his story. Where as the ending of the play creates more of a balance, again hitting on the love that Song does harbor for Rene.
In all of this, it can be observed that Song is meant to be seen very clearly as the sole villain of the story within the film. She is not as obvious in her love for Rene. Her actions are manipulative and cruel, and Rene is seemingly more helpless, undeserving, or even more pathetic than his written counterpart. Rene’s actions are despicable and quite ridiculous– He truly believes that all ‘Oriental’ women have the desire to be treated badly by the men they persue, he is disgustingly unfaithful to Song, and he objectifies and fetishizes her in ways that, though somewhat perpetuated by Song’s facade, are unacceptable. He even admits this to Song.
Despite this, however, the film gives way for his actions to be forgiven by the audience, showing his emotions through this helpless lens. Rene seems to be a much sadder person, allowing the viewer to sympathize. Of course, this is quite a gross and upsetting change, and while the film could be said to be a more direct subversion or reversal of the story told in the original Madama Butterfly, it distinctly turns back and reinforces ideals that the play itself was written to dissolve, particularly the themes of misogyny and Orientalism.
Another, more technical aspect for comparison is the fact that a film allows for the usage of camerawork and framing that is impossible within a live viewing of a theatrical production. If one is only reading the script and is unable to observe a live performance, there is also the aspect that a film creates tone and voice to the dialogue, which can draw one’s original interpretations of the words within the script to different conclusions. These tools can be used to draw in audiences differently and to allow the drawing of focus to specific details and elements in a way that, while entirely possible to exist within in a stage play, would prove to be very difficult. This can have incredibly drastic effects, such as the examples of characterization and the striking difference in the relationship of Rene and Song between Cronenberg’s interpretation of the script and the theatrical production in itself.
The most important example of this is within facial and bodily expression. In a stage production of M. Butterfly, the actor must rely more so on movement and their presentation through body language, whereas in the film, these actions would seem exaggerated and unnecessary. The opposite also applies. If Song, in the scene where he observes Renee’s dramatic performance at the end of the film (despite the fact that there are differences at the end of the script), were to stand within the crowd and only make the stoic face he expresses within the film during a theatrical production, it would be veru difficult to decipher his feelings from the audience.
These differences help make for a large difference in the tone of the two pieces, and makes the ending of the play itself seem more powerful. Song being made to verbalize his distress by his words of “Butterfly? Butterfly?” while gazing upon what remains of Rene makes for a more emotionally vulnerable ending to the story, and ties back into the increased feeling that Song really does harbor caring feelings for Rene.
Whether it be through the relationship between Rene and Song, the differences in context for the audience, or through the technical means of productions, the differences between the play and the film of M. Butterfly are stark and emotionally distinct. The improved and in depth context of Rene’s recordings sets the scene for his dramatic onstage suicide in a much clearer way, and the retelling of the play with a film camera and changes in script allowed Rene’s actions to be depicted in a quite forgivable and understandable light. All of these aspects create a dissonance between these pieces of art, and looking at them both fully, create an upsetting scism of both positive and negative subversions of Madama Butterfly.
Citations:
Hwang, David Henry. M. Butterfly. New York: Dramatists Play Service, 1988.
Cronenberg, David, director. M. Butterfly.