Same-sex marriage still sounds bizarre to many people nowadays, let alone a marriage between a living and a dead person. Marry My Dead Body (2022), a Taiwanese comedy movie, crazily combines the two ideas and successfully challenges the binary opposition of gay and straight in a creative and heart-warming adventure between man and ghost.
★★★★✰
As an LGBTQ+ comedy, Marry My Dead Body strikes a wonderful balance between humour and the exploration of deeper, more emotive themes. On the one hand, its interesting depiction of a homosexual human-ghost relationship boggles the mind and tickles your funny bone. On the other, the film’s handling of widespread controversies surrounding LGBTQ+ issues clashes with traditional family culture and politics. Audiences will do well to resist bursting into laughter in the first half, before falling into profound reflection and tears in the second.
Marry My Dead Body starts with the main protagonist, Ming-han Wu, who is a homophobic police officer. He accidentally picks up a red envelope on the ground whilst investigating a case. He consequently meets Mao Mao, a ghost who died unjustly in a car accident. Since then, Wu is saddled with Mao who refuses to leave him alone. As a result, Mao’s grandma suggests Wu gets married to her grandson so he can return to his corporeal life. A ghost-human homosexual relationship consequently unfolds as they begin to work together to track down Mao’s killer. Across the course of this strange yet heart-warming journey, we gain insights into the mentality of a gay and straight man over corporeal-spiritual boundaries.
What does the red envelope mean? And why does Wu necessarily need to marry a dead person? Well, ‘ghost marriage’ is a folk tradition with a history that spans 3000 years, first originating in China. A ghost marriage usually takes place when someone who is engaged dies before marriage, or when a child dies prematurely. In Taiwan, some parents will seek a ghost marriage for their daughters who pass away unmarried. They feel pain that their daughters will be alone in the afterlife, so they place red envelopes in the road which represent their daughters. The person who picks up the envelope will consequently be asked to marry them.
Ghost marriages are virtually a thing of the past nowadays, but it is still common in some less-developed regions and kept alive in the traditions of some families. Indeed, the saying ‘do not pick up a random red envelope on the floor’ is still common in Taiwanese Folklore.
In Marry My Dead Body, Mao passes away a few years after same-sex marriage is legalised in Taiwan. Mao’s grandma is heartbroken that he never had the chance to marry his loved one, so she is comforted when she discovers that a male picks up his envelope. The director and scriptwriter, Cheng Wei-hao, cleverly recreates this common Taiwanese tradition with the theme of same-sex marriage. For example, the shaman of the ghost marriage calls Wu and Mao ‘bridegroom 0’ and ‘bridegroom 1’ rather than the bridegroom and bride. While the awkwardness of this scene makes the ceremony hilarious, it is simultaneously touching to see Mao’s grandma, her friends, and the shaman, try their best to twist the traditions of Taiwanese culture and sincerely feel happy for Mao’s marriage.
It is commonly believed by many that the younger generation is more open-minded and supportive of LGBTQ+ rights compared to older generations, who are typically more stubborn and ‘set in their ways’. However, Marry My Dead Body breaks this traditional stereotype by contrasting Wu’s and Mao’s grandma’s attitudes towards gay couples. The former is young and homophobic, but the latter unconditionally supports Mao’s sexual orientation. Even the traditional ritual of ghost marriage—which has historically been confined to monogamous relationships only—can be transformed to represent more modern and inclusive values. Here, ‘old and young’ and ‘tradition and modernity’, are not enemies against each other; with respect and acceptance, they can be harmoniously blended.
Straight-gay is another binary rhetoric that Marry My Dead Body effectively challenges. In popular culture, gay characters are usually portrayed as soft and promiscuous, whereas straight characters are typically portrayed as self-willed and disrespectful. However, does sexuality necessarily imply a specific set of personality traits? When Mao ‘possesses’ Wu’s soul, Wu behaves like Mao with his character traits, whilst the pair also have a visceral argument with each other in the second half of the film. It’s these kinds of interactions throughout the film that not only heightens tension towards the climax, but also delivers a key message to the audience: we are just human beings with differing personalities; it has nothing to do with sexuality.
It cannot be denied that some scenes in the film are stereotypical in terms of its representation of non-binary people. For instance, the gay bar scenes are awash with pink neon lights, whilst many background characters also wear very revealing outfits. Mao also talks in a highly feminine manner throughout the film. However, as a comedy, it is probably inevitable that the film feels the need to make compromises to cater to the taste of mainstream audiences, whilst also attempting to create comedic effects.
The Verdict
Nevertheless, Marry My Dead Body is far from an offensive movie; it consistently shifts its focus to the exploration of unique LGBTQ+ themes and resists poking fun at the characters for the sake of cheap laughs. Unlike other LGBTQ+ films that solely illustrate the struggles and plight of the non-binary community, Marry My Dead Body presents the fluidity of tradition, personality, and sexuality, without singling out any one group in society. Whilst not the perfect LGBTQ+ film, it does well within the limitations of the market and genre, exploring the common topic of diversity in a fresh and absurd, yet inspiring and touching way.
Epitomising the current landscape of Taiwanese productions, Marry My Dead Body demonstrates a commitment to creativity and uniqueness arguably lacking in Western productions. People found it normal to marry a ghost 3000 years ago, so why is forming a family with a person of the same sex unacceptable today?
Words by Angel Sun
Support The Indiependent
We’re trying to raise £200 a month to help cover our operational costs. This includes our ‘Writer of the Month’ awards, where we recognise the amazing work produced by our contributor team. If you’ve enjoyed reading our site, we’d really appreciate it if you could donate to The Indiependent. Whether you can give £1 or £10, you’d be making a huge difference to our small team.