New Women: A gut-punch from a different era

Is this for you?

If you like your movies light, airy, and full of easy answers, keep scrolling. New Women is a heavy, suffocating piece of history that doesn't care if you're comfortable or not.

It’s perfect for people who like old-school, black-and-white melodrama that actually bites. If you can’t handle a slow burn or subtitles that feel like they're whispering secrets, you'll probably hate it. Honestly, it’s a tough watch, but in a way that sticks to your ribs for a few days.

Ruan Lingyu is just… something else here. The way she handles the camera feels like she’s trying to hide, even when she’s standing right in the center of the frame. There’s a specific scene where she’s sitting by the window—the light is doing this weird, jagged thing across her face—and you can see her realizing exactly how trapped she is. She doesn’t need a monologue to tell you that. She just breathes differently.

The pacing is a bit weird. It starts off feeling like it wants to be this snappy story about a writer making it big, but then the movie just drops the mask. It gets dark fast. Maybe too fast? I don't know. It feels like the world closing in on her.

Observations from the cheap seats:

• The rich guys in this movie are cartoonishly awful. It’s almost funny, but then you remember it’s not meant to be.
• The background extras in the street scenes have this weird habit of looking directly into the lens. It’s distracting, but kinda haunting.
• There is a lot of smoking. Everyone is constantly lighting cigarettes like it’s the only thing keeping them tethered to the ground.

It’s strange to compare this to something like Sally. That one feels like a fever dream, while this feels like a funeral march. They’re both from the same general pocket of time, but the vibes are worlds apart.

The ending isn't a cliffhanger. It’s a dead end. You feel the floor fall out from under you. I sat there for a minute after the screen went black, just staring at the reflection in my laptop monitor. It’s a brutal, honest kind of storytelling that doesn't care about your feelings. 🎥

Maybe it’s not a masterpiece in the traditional sense, but it’s real. It’s messy. It’s sad. Sometimes, that’s plenty.