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When Will Our Reflection Show Who We are Inside: A Reflection on Mulan and Representation

By: Michelle Huang


The first time I saw a YouTube ad for Disney’s live action remake of Mulan, my eyes welled up as I recognized the all-Asian cast and traditional film style. Mulan was the only mainstream Chinese (not to mention badass femisinst) representation I had growing up in an American suburb, and I had never felt so much pride and joy to see my favorite childhood story evolve into a dynamic and nuanced reflection of my culture: or so I thought.

Although Disney tried to make the film more “realistic” and more like popular Chinese period pieces (getting rid of musical numbers and Mushu), the film was not so much of a reflection of the traditional Mulan story, but more of a reflection of its white directors, screenwriters, costume designers, score writers, makeup artists… you get the point. The all-Asian cast on screen was overshadowed by the white crew off-screen, making the Asian actors seem like mere puppets of the story white people have developed. Why did Mulan’s costume designer have to “do intense research in European museums” on historical Chinese costumes when Disney could have hired one of thousands of Chinese designers who was already immersed in the culture? Why did Disney invite Christina Aguilera to sing “Reflection” when any Asian artist could have related the song to their own cultural identity? Why did the original 1998 movie have more female Asian writers than the ‘woke’ remake does???

An even bigger slap to the face is how Disney bastardized the idea of qi, the concept of life force and the flow of energy that is essential Chinese medicine and culture. Traditionally, qi is something everyone has and can strengthen through martial arts and medicinal practices, but in the film, qi is regarded as something like a superpower. The movie version of Mulan is shunned because she is born with qi that allows her to have superhuman balance and strength only men are meant to have, and her “special power” is what she relies on to defeat the invaders of her homeland. Not only is this a drastic misinterpretation of Chinese culture, the concept of qi takes away all the strength and power Mulan developed for herself in previous iterations of the story. Women of color don’t need superpowers to feel marginalized, and they sure as hell don’t need them to overcome adversity and find strength within themselves. The original Mulan was ordinary woman who defied all odds to make the ultimate sacrifice for her family, but in this new movie, she has devolved from the complex feminist icon we all knew and loved into a one-dimmensional, invulnerable charicature of her former self.

Who is this girl I see, staring straight back at me? This Mulan is not the Chinese cultural icon that I have grown to admire and love. Her story was not told authentically in the way that I hoped it would have been, and the new iteration was not only full cultural insensitivity and inaccuracies, but also diminished the strength and development of a strong Asian female character on screen. Mulan’s downfall could have been prevented if Mulan had just as much representation behind the camera as it did in front of it. If Asian-Americans (especially Asian American women) had control of the stories that are told on screen, maybe the movies we watch would be real reflections of ourselves instead of vague assumptions of what culture and empowerment are supposed to be.