Dazzled by an exotic trade

Geishas exist only in Japan, yet the actresses playing the three fragrant women at the centre of this costume drama are all Chinese. This caused outrage when casting was announced, but why the fuss?

The film's director, Rob Marshall, is American. So is Arthur Golden, the author of the novel on which it is based (as in the book, the characters converse in English).

Memoirs of a Geisha has many qualities. Authenticity isn't one of them. Golden's novel was a bestseller but don't panic if it passed you by - anyone familiar with Cinderella will instantly recognise the plot.

It swings into action in 1929, when a nine-year-old motherless drudge falls in love with a friendly, fortysomething businessman and decides that becoming a geisha is the best way to make him her own.

Enter the film's fairy godmother, in the lissome form of top geisha Mameha (ex-Bond girl Michelle Yeoh), who sets out to teach our heroine all the tricks of the game.

By the time she's 15, gangly Sayuri (played by Ziyi Zhang, of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon fame) has the makings of a poised princess. The film's wardrobe department, not to mention the choreographers and make-up people, ensure we're as dazzled by her beauty and grace as the wealthy men set to become her clients. The dominant colour in Memoirs is an explosive strawberry red. Whether on dresses, lips or flowers, it looks good enough to lick.

Not everyone, of course, is happy about the new arrival. Sayuri has enemies close to home, namely the imperious, lusty geisha Hatsumomo (Gong Li; Fairwell My Concubine, Raise the Red Lantern). Hatsumomo does everything she can to destroy Sayuri, but her temperamental ways make her ripe for a fall.

Li may be playing the loser of the piece but she saves this film. While girl-of-the-moment Zhang runs through her usual bag of tricks (the frown of concentration, the rare, incandescent smile), her more experienced co-star endows Hatsumomo with genuine mystery.

Gorgeously haughty in her haute couture, Hatsumomo is a 24-hour "exotic", a flesh-and-blood creature forced to exist in that grey area between prostitution and performance art. Such a role all but induces schizophrenia and - thanks to Li - we feel for this pretty unpleasant individual every step of the way.

With the exit of Hatsumomo, Memoirs falls to pieces. It is clearly the director's policy to underplay the grittier elements of Golden's book (blink and you'll miss the reference to Mameha's abortion), but why keep the worst elements intact? The final twist concerning Sayuri's prince charming is particularly disquieting.