China Ningbo Performance & Arts Group MULAN Review
September 18, 2026 | David H. Koch Theater – New York, NY, USA
As a New Yorker, I see Hua Mulan in myself from time to time, trying to blend in on the subway, fighting mental battles (fortunately not physical ones), and staying strong and centered during life’s challenges.
So when the Chinese dance drama troupe China Ningbo Performance & Arts Group brought its MULAN for its debut at David H. Koch Theatre, I was immediately pulled in and ecstatic to see on opening night that the seats quickly filled up.
Created by Zhou Liya and Han Zhen, this award-winning 135-minute production offers an intriguing midpoint between East and West, blending traditional dance and martial arts choreography with Euro-American contemporary dance technique, particularly in its ensemble works.
What impressed me the most about the production was its use of choreography to communicate traditional Chinese values.
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China Ningbo Performance & Arts Group MULAN Review
Grounding herself midstage against a circle of red light, Tang Xinyi, the title heroine, appears in an androgynous silhouette as she performs a slow sword dance. Clad in her maroon armour, she deliberately uses this moment to introduce us to Chinese culture. The color red carries cultural significance, and through martial arts or “gongfu”-inspired movements, she emphasizes the importance of discipline, focus and restraint.
Shortly after the Prologue, Mulan’s Father (Wang Zheng) and Little Mulan (Liu Siyu), playfully express their joyful bond by butting heads across a table and teasing one another about their strengths. They eventually embrace while a statuesque ensemble in the background slowly move in pas de deux at their respective tables.
The image underscores the importance of family and the value of keeping familial obligations at the foreground.
Respect for elders is another value woven throughout the show. Before enlisting herself in her father’s place, Mulan kneels at his feet, physically lowering herself to symbolize respect and honor. Later, after disguising herself as a man (and also upon returning from war), she bows at her father’s feet. The sign of respect reminded me of the genuflections in George Balanchine’s Prodigal Son, but here, their physical representation is rooted as a daughter in the East.
Another hallmark in its choreography that keeps the tradition alive is drawing on the heightened emotional expressiveness associated with traditional Chinese dance and opera, using the face as an extension of the body to reveal nuances in relationships.
Zhou and Han ingeniously demonstrate their understanding of this tradition, especially in the opening act, when the families are torn apart as the men are drafted into war. The women line up stage right and the men stage left. As the men prepare to leave, the women pack their partners’ bags and approach them.
One woman drops the bag and walks away in tears; another strikes her partner’s chest in anger; another embraces her husband. One man becomes angry with his partner, while the final couple lingers as the man drops to his knees before the woman. Eventually, he cries as he slowly drifts away from her.
These small variations in behavior make the scene emotionally persuasive.
Rather than presenting grief as one uniform experience, the choreography gives us a spectrum of panic, anger, fear, tenderness, and loss.
Later, the production shifts towards comic relief. A floor dance featuring a dozen half-naked men sleeping provides a superb creation of obliviousness. As Mulan tosses and turns in mortification, the men roll around and over one another, snoring, one scratching his back, dreaming, sneezing, one swatting mosquitos on his leg, and one even wandering off to relieve themselves in the bushes… (I’m still laughing).
The choreography also stresses traditional social expectations surrounding femininity and masculinity.
When Mulan privately imagines herself living truthfully as a woman again, a dreamy ensemble of women appears behind her in elegant white gowns, each holding a mirror as they advance slowly towards the audience performing a slow group adagio that shows off their softness, grace and female figure (and yes, I definitely noticed the man sitting next to me lean forward during this scene).
In contrast, the male ensemble performs muscular-charged fighting sequences, acrobatic lifts, handstands, and combative contemporary floorwork. The entire dance troupe is outstanding, but Xia Tian (as General Wei) stole the show with his effortless aerials, 540s and other gravity-defying feats.
Beyond the choreography, I also appreciated seeing other production elements come to life.
An alternate ending from the Disney version familiar to many Western audiences feels more realistic, and a new orphan character further reinforces the realism of acknowledging Mulan’s historical circumstances.
The traditional music composed by Du Ming complements the choreography beautifully. Its use of the pentatonic scale, along with instruments such as the guzheng, erhu, panflutes and a variety of tanggu drums and percussions, creates an authentic sonic soundscape.
Wang Yukuan’s costumes are modern and danceable, allowing the artists freedom of movement while also supporting Xia Tian’s flips.
The props seamlessly integrated into the choreography. In the spears and the sickle blade dances, the ensemble performs punching, lunging, jabbing, fighting and aiming motions with physical charity that makes the weapons appear both dramatic and safe to dance with.
Han Jiang’s lighting design is on point during moments of death, when red light floods the stage following the fall of a soldier. Tan Ze’en’s cutting-edge projections, including calligraphic imagery, and Zhu Hai’s lyrical poems, which function as a synopsis, add further layers to the production.
Together, these elements demonstrate an ambitious and thoughtful artistic collaboration.
Still, the production is not without its imbalances. The areas that could have been improved largely come down to issues of overuse and underuse.
The repeated use of frontal, stationary, Terracotta Army-like poses sometimes turns choreography into posturing rather than movement that genuinely engages. I found myself wondering how the production might communicate toughness without having the dancers continually appear to perform the idea of toughness.
The 15-meter revolving stage is another example. Its repeated use may have been intended to suggest the cycles of life, war, and remembrance, but eventually it became more dizzying than spectacular. The platform rotates when Mulan is with her father at the beginning, when the ensemble gathers around the tables, during the duet between Mulan and the General, and again to depict the aftermath of war.
By the time it returned yet again, I began to see it less as a meaningful theatrical device and more as a conveyor belt generating movement without requiring the choreography itself to travel.
This reliance on the revolving stage also results in the underuse of the talented dancers. Given the company’s technical ability, I wanted to see more kaleidoscopic formations, spatial transformations, and traveling ensemble choreography. The dancers are clearly capable of much more, and the production occasionally underuses that potential.
The acts before intermission satisfied me more than the ambiguous ending. The characters pendulum between appearing alive and dead. For me, the uncertainty ultimately weakened rather than deepened the emotional impact and believability.
There were also smaller technical distractions. The music occasionally felt too loud, and the opening credits appearing before Mulan’s sword dance obscured her powerful presence.
Mulan is a character who resonates with me personally, and I appreciated how the show amplifies an Asian perspective that is still too often underrepresented on American stages.
The production is no doubt ambitious, visually striking, and truly inspired me as an audience member. Even with those artistic imbalances, I am deeply grateful to experience work like this in New York.
MULAN does more than revisit a familiar heroine: it bridges greater cross-cultural understanding, invites Western audiences into a different culture framework, and presents a sense of shared beauty in humanity.
Featured Photo of Tang Xinyi as the title heroine in China Arts and Entertainment Group‘s presentation of of Zhou Liya and Han Zhen’s MULAN. Photo by Zhou Huanxin.
