Watching a 1992 movie called The Lover
about a French colonial girl and a Chinese man in '20s Saigon. It's quite erotic, along with being a fascinating study of both decadence and racism. Supposedly it's semi-biographical, based on a novel by Marguerite Duras.
Despite the scandalous subject matter, when the movie was made they had to change the age of the girl (make her older) and ensure the actress turned 18 during filming.
This is how we edit history to make it more acceptable . . . like taking the cigarette out of the hands of the chain-smoking Melvin Purvis in Public Enemies
because Michael Mann was intimidated back in his Miami Vice
Is it any wonder that we can never really understand the characters that make up the world--both past and present? Even to tell a simple story--much less one more complex--we have to make it more palatable for a 'mainstream' modern audience.
Still, this movie is strangely compelling and even poetic.