M. Butterfly 1993

In 1964, Beijing, during a time of political transformation, Rene Gallimard, a reserved accountant at the French embassy, is utterly mesmerized by the performance of opera diva Song Liling in a rendition from Madame Butterfly. After the show, he expresses to his wife, Jeanne, his newfound appreciation for the heartbreaking narrative, only to be met with scorn. Jeanne criticizes his romanticized view of the submissive Oriental woman, remarking that “the Chinese can’t stand Madame Butterfly because ‘the white man gets the girl.’”

Three weeks later, mustering newfound courage, Rene returns to the opera, where he encounters Song backstage. Their initial conversation ignites a spark, yet he feels compelled to conceal the truth from Jeanne, creating an emotional rift. Soon after, he visits Song in her parlor, a gesture deemed risky in a historically conservative society. When Rene attempts to kiss her, she reacts coolly and asks him to leave. Despite the turmoil, communication continues, but Song’s letters go unanswered by Rene.

Noticing Rene’s shift in demeanor, Ambassador Toulon comments on his transformation, stating, “you’ve become this new, aggressive, overconfident thing.” As a result, Rene is appointed Vice Consul, tasked with establishing an intelligence-gathering operation amidst the Cultural Revolution. Driven by passion, he confronts Song, and she shyly confesses, “I am your butterfly,” albeit maintaining her modesty during their intimate moments.

As their secret relationship flourishes, Rene expresses his views on the Vietnam conflict, asserting, as he tells the ambassador, that “the Oriental will always bow to a superior force.” However, Song, unbeknownst to him, is a double agent, feeding misinformation to Comrade Chin, who occurs upon American magazines in her home. Despite this deception, Rene’s romantic entanglements deepen during one of Frau Bauden’s soirées, where their affair reaches new heights.

When Song reveals her pregnancy, she plans to return to her village, promising to bring back a son, which fills Rene with joy. Yet, behind this façade, she confides to Chin about needing a blonde-haired baby as part of her cover.

Months later, witnessing the rise of the Red Guards, Rene’s world unravels. The art community he belongs to faces peril as Song brings their “son” to him. However, their dreams shatter when Red Guards apprehend her. Laid off from his diplomatic position for misjudging the Chinese and Vietnamese political landscapes, Rene faces an imminent deportation. In a striking scene, he finds Song’s courtyard filled with peasants while witnessing her forced entry into a re-education camp, a painful reminder of the harsher realities of political discord.

Fast forward to 1968 Paris, Rene watches Madame Butterfly again, tears streaming as he is engulfed by memories. Outside, chaos unfolds with pro-Communist students battling police during the riots. Rene, now living a simpler life as a motorcycle courier, unexpectedly reunites with Song. Yet, their joy is short-lived as Rene soon finds himself arrested for espionage, accused of leaking sensitive documents.

During the dramatic trial proceedings, Rene is confronted by Song, who presents as a man, clad in a suit and tie, a jaw-dropping revelation for everyone present. As she recounts how he facilitated access to diplomatic pouches for the sake of their son, the courtroom gasps. Addressing the prosecutor, Song discusses his “Oriental ways of love,” saying, “Out of which I invented myself, just for him.”

In a heartrending exchange within a police van, Song strips away the illusions, reminding Rene that he has not changed. Devastated by the truth of Song’s identity and the entire relationship being built on deception, Rene rejects him.

Eventually, in prison, Rene takes the stage for an emotional monologue, sharing his tragic tale of love with a man he believed to be a woman, prompting laughter amidst a misjudged political saga. As Song boards a plane back to China, Rene plays an audio tape of Madame Butterfly, paralleling his fate with that of the opera’s tragic heroine. Clad in Oriental attire and makeup, he portrays the ultimate tragic figure, and in front of the assembly of inmates and guards, he kneels and takes his own life by slit his throat, becoming a haunting symbol of sacrifice, love, and betrayal.