REVIEW: DVD Release: Hero

Film: Hero
Release date: 21st February 2005
Certificate: 12
Running time: 95 mins
Director: Yimou Zhang
Starring: Jet Li, Tony Leung Chiu Wai, Maggie Cheung, Ziyi Zhang, Donnie Yen
Genre: Action/Adventure/Martial Arts
Studio: Miramax
Format: DVD
Country: Hong Kong/China

While Zhang Yimou stuns audiences with this martial arts adventure where cinematography takes to the foreground, the message conveyed to some through the story has managed to spark debate over Yimou’s political implications of the film. But with the themes of love and war at centre stage in China, no less – what else can be expected?

Set in 3rd century BC China, the King of Qin (Daoming Chen) is on a mission to bring all the surrounding warring dominions in to one ‘united’ kingdom. Naturally, war is met along the way, sparking three illustrious assassins to seek personal revenge on the king, and end all the seemingly irrational destruction he is causing around the lands. For security, no-one is allowed within a hundred paces of the king unless proving their faith to him somehow. Enter Nameless (Jet Li), a warrior brandishing the three swords of the assassins (thus proving their defeat by his hand) who is allowed within ten paces.

Four different versions of the story ensue, each truer than the last, of how the assassins meet their demise. Essentially in all versions, there is first a battle between Nameless and Sky (Donnie Yen) in a chess house, where Sky meets his downfall. Then, there is a battle between Nameless and Flying Snow (Maggie Cheung), where she also loses out to Nameless’ unmatched skill. The third assassin, Broken Sword (Tony Leung), is also Flying Snow’s lover, and complications between the two allow for Nameless to obtain the last sword. However, there is a twist in the story, as it slowly becomes revealed that Nameless is not actually who he says he is, and now that he is within ten paces of the king, knowledge and righteousness put him to the test to discover if he really can be a true warrior…


Perhaps Yimou’s previous experience as a cinematographer influences the weight given to the film’s abounding aesthetic. However, credit must be given to this film’s cinematographer, Christopher Doyle, as the film is so amazingly visually rich. The individual versions of the story are told with different colour schemes; saturated primary colours, which provide evocative contrasts to otherwise beautiful but barren landscapes.

Tan Dun’s score provides a constant melancholy theme throughout, which is soft and dramatic, and nearly always present. This gives credence to the film’s existence as a piece of art as much as an entertaining film. Of course, drums are at hand for the fight scenes and moments of tension, which add authenticity to the Chinese culture of the film.

The storytelling should not be overlooked either. Its Rashomon-style flashbacks add layers of depth - four to be precise - to energise the story. They allow for not only four different stories to be told, but four different versions of assassin characters to be explored. In this way, Yimou gets to play with the audience by keeping it guessing until the very end.

It is difficult when watching and listening to a language so completely different from English to be able to fully appreciate what is being said, and how it is being expressed. From every other aspect that the renowned cast can be scrutinised from, none of them disappoint. They adhere to the choreography of the duel scenes with such natural ability, and although the expression of emotion is not at the forefront of the film, each carries a great weight of believability in their (many) roles.

We are not met with copious amounts of dialogue, and combat scenes fit to take your breath away seem to occupy more time in the film than any speaking. The general lack of conversation aligns with the elemental approach of the film, and so this is not a problem, however, the same ‘lost in translation’ issue can be said of the script. A western audience cannot be sure to receive the same message as what is understood by a Chinese speaking audience.

Following in the same vein, the most important feature in the film, Broken Sword’s depiction of the word ‘Tianxia’, accurately translates as ‘all under heaven’ (i.e. the world), whereas the western translation is ‘our land’, as in China. Both notions imply distinct differences, and hit on a critical debate over the film and Yimou’s intentions. Critics of Yimou have said the film’s approval by the Chinese government admit it to be a film of pro-totalitarian rule, of which Yimou has denied. Nevertheless the film certainly makes an impact politically, emotionally and visually.


Only those opposed to the wuxia genre may want to give it a wide birth, as there are a lot of combat episodes, however, those able to appreciate the elegance behind finely choreographed martial fighting, clever storytelling, and visual mastery will not want to miss it. MI