From at least the 1990s, both Chinese and Western scholars have asserted that Jingju (“Beijing Opera”) is in a state of crisis. In the first half of the twentieth century, Jingju performers of superstar status could fill auditoriums, but continued interventions from the state, and declining audiences, seemed to have sounded the death knell of this art form. Yet, as we progress through the twenty-first century, Jingju is still to be found on the Chinese stage.

Li Ruru's study provides a welcome contextualization of this discourse of “crisis,” asserting that Jingju has responded to shifting socioeconomic and political contexts since its very inception in the middle of the nineteenth century. The first of two contextual chapters conceptualizes Jingju as the product of an amalgamation of preexisting genres. By the mid- to late nineteenth century, Jingju was already being reformed as it moved south to Shanghai and incorporated Western forms and technologies. Even this early reform became caught in discussions about how national culture could reflect ideologies of the post-1911 Republic. The second chapter provides an overview of basic training (jiben gong) for actors, outlining the skills that underpin technique and, consequently, innovation. The chapter offers a systematic analysis of the relationship between actor training and philosophies of the body, and will prove a useful teaching resource.

The bulk of the study focuses on Jingju reform as undertaken by six actors from different periods and contexts. It begins with a discussion of Cheng Yanqiu (1904–58), a male actor of dan (female) roles and one of the Four Great Dan in the period of 1910 to 1940. Li argues that Cheng was a powerful actor because he was able to combine male (vigorous) and female (elegant) qualities within his performance. In a detailed analysis of his style, particularly his ability to combine Jingju skills with stylistic elements derived from Western theater, Li asserts that Cheng contributed significantly to reform in this period. Li then turns to the work of her mother, Li Yuru (1923–2008), from 1949 to the early 1960s. A female dan actor, Li Yuru was caught in the 1948 Theater Reform Movement, which transformed practitioners’ approaches to their work. By offering a close analysis of two performances—a successful modification of a preexisting play, and an unsuccessful new work reflecting communist ideology—the author argues that the latter failed because the break with tradition was too sharp.

Chapter 5 examines the jing (“painted face”) actor Ma Yongan (1942–2007). In the period from 1964 to 1976, Jingju was subject to stylistic contradiction. Whereas the nonmimetic performance style of Jingju required actors to “write meaning” (xieyi) symbolically, they were now forced to “write reality” (xieshi) for the Communist government. Li explores how these contradictory impulses were embedded in Ma's performance in Azalea Mountain. Li concludes that revolutionary performances offered a fusion of Jingju and non-Jingju elements that became significant for post-revolutionary theater.

Chapter 6 analyzes the work of the clown (chou) actor Yan Qinggu (b. 1970) since the 1980s. Li investigates how, working in an increasingly open and globalized China, Yan's knowledge of Western plays, and of Japanese Kyôgen, facilitated innovation. Because the clown role has always responded to contemporary society by virtue of its ability to incorporate improvisation as a part of its performance, Li could have contextualized Yan's achievements in this ongoing tradition. Nevertheless, the chapter brings a cautiously optimistic conclusion to Li's analysis of innovation on the mainland.

The last two case studies are from Taiwan: Kuo Hsiao-chuang (b. 1951) and Wu Hsing-kuo (b. 1953). Li persuasively argues that innovation in Taiwanese Jingju was connected to developments in the mainland, at least in spirit. Kuo incorporated modern mise-en-scène in her work, especially in Passions, where the nonmimetic aesthetics of Jingju were challenged when she was costumed to appear pregnant. Kuo's performances were based on Chinese sources, and she assimilated Western-style elements to make them appear “familiar” to the audience. In contrast, Wu Hsing-kuo “collaged” elements together, exploiting the resulting incongruity of styles. Evaluating Wu's adaptations of Shakespeare and Beckett, Li argues that both Kuo and Wu offered fresh and courageous innovation.

Li concludes that Jingju is capable of reform; it has been in constant mutation since its very inception. She asserts that, despite a dwindling audience, Jingju will continue to take center stage in discourses about Chinese culture in the twenty-first century if it remains useful to the development of cultural nationalism.

The strength of Li's study is in its interviews and in its close analysis of performance. The historical overview Li alludes to is more accessible elsewhere, but this is not the point of the study. Rather, she provides a context for contemporary debates, and an invitation to engage with Jingju as it really is, not as a singular form but as a complex continuity, an ever-shifting multiplicity.