Showing posts with label Yimou Zhang. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Yimou Zhang. Show all posts
REVIEW: DVD Release: Riding Alone For Thousands Of Miles
Film: Riding Alone For Thousands Of Miles
Release date: 13th August 2007
Certificate: PG
Running time: 105 mins
Director: Yimou Zhang & Yasuo Furuhata
Starring: Ken Takakura, Kiichi Nakai, Jiang Wen, Shinobu Terajima, Qiu Lin
Genre: Drama
Studio: Sony
Format: DVD
Country: Hong Kong/China/Japan
Yimou Zhang and his long-time director of photography Xiaoding Zhao, the pair of whom crafted the beautiful House Of Flying Daggers and Curse Of The Golden Flower, once again create a film of stunning beauty both visually and emotionally, as a father begins his quest to get closer to his son.
Gou-ichi Takata (Ken Takakura) has become estranged from his son over many years, and his only remaining link is his daughter-in-law, Rie (Shinobu Terajima), who is desperately trying to get Ken-ichi to see his father again. When Takata discovers that his son has terminal cancer, he travels into central Tokyo for the first time in more than a decade only to find his son rejecting his visit.
In a desperate attempt for her father-in-law to know his son, Rie hands him a tape of her husband’s television work on his greatest love – Chinese folk operas. In a final bid to do something for his son, Takata decides to go to China to find singer Li Jiamin, watch his performance of Riding Alone For Thousands Of Miles, and film it for his son.
He is impeded every step of the way by protocol, suspicion, the fact that he is a gaijin (foreigner) and, most of all, by the fact that the performer his son wanted to see now resides in a prison. Takata works tirelessly with the help of an unlikely friend, Lingo, and a kindly translator, as his quest takes him deep into rural China to find another man’s son, so he can find his own…
Those more accustomed to Zhang’s previous works might consider Riding Alone For Thousands Of Miles to be altogether more simplistic. With this film, the visuals, whilst astounding, are overshadowed by a set of heartfelt performances from a dedicated and talented cast. The performance provided by Ken Takakura is especially engaging, as his character is forced to come to terms with facts about himself and his son. His performance is both endearing and heart-rending, filled with poignancy and pain. In one conversation, realising just how little he ever knew his son, he implores his translator to “tell me about my son,” only to discover that despite their differences, they were more similar than either of them ever knew.
The film is able to tackle a wide range of complex emotions from loss, grievance and fear, to elation and comfort, and throughout the film, there are constant reminders of the level of isolation the characters are suffering. Takata is in a country where he can’t speak the language, and is dependent on a phone signal to get translations; Yang Yang is an orphan before Takata appears to take him to his father; Rie is left with only a dying husband; and the further the film develops, the further into rural China they travel, and the more isolated the environments become. The performances afforded by the cast are responsible for much of the on screen emotion. It is, however, a boon to discover a film dealing with pain and isolation that somehow still manages to incorporate a subtle humour throughout the film, such as the repeated prison scenes in which, despite being a folk opera, the warden deems it necessary to have a disco light rotating – simply because it is there. Slight elements of humour throughout the film enable a somewhat bitter film to become far more palatable.
The pace of the film occasionally develops a sluggish feeling, however, but it is rapidly compensated for by a set of astounding visuals, which might not live up to the likes of House Of Flying Daggers but still manage to create a picturesque beauty out of the most barren and inhospitable landscapes. These landscapes contribute to the isolated feeling constant within the film, and Zhao’s cinematography allows a feeling of warmth to even a sheltered cavern in the wilderness - and the very simplicity and natural beauty of the shot allows the film a depth previously unplumbed.
Whilst there is predictability within the film that cannot be denied, there is a shift in the archetypal characters, which makes the film more interesting. The seemingly generic plot of a sick father attempting to make amends to his children is sometimes overplayed after so many years, but subverting it to a surviving father trying to make amends to a dying child is slightly more novel, and allows Riding Alone For Thousands Of Miles to interact with slightly different subject matters. The idea of a child burying a parent is distressing but a part of life, whereas the idea of a parent burying a child is open to a more emotional impact. The film is ready and willing to tug at the heartstrings, and does so with as much vigour as any tear-jerker out there,
This is not a standard tear-jerker – it is a film that grips you, that you feel, and one that reminds you what the important things in life really are, if only for the duration. This bittersweet film might seem slightly predictable in places, but it is a film that truly proves it’s not the destination that counts, it’s the journey. JK
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
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
Zhang Yimous’ sumptuous historical warrior epic certainly lives up to, if not surpasses, the two years of excited hype that this is the most expensive Chinese film ever made. Falling firmly within the wuxia genre, this breathtaking (although sometimes mind boggling) piece of cinematography softly coaxes you through a dramatic journey of loyalty, love and sacrifice that deals with both personal and political issues without feeling as though you are having to wade through a torrent of boringly obvious morals and ethics.
The determined dream of King Qin (Daoming Chen) to become the first emperor of China draws the attention of three deadly assassins from neighbouring warring kingdoms. It seems as though there is nobody who can defeat the killers until an enigmatic nameless warrior, surprisingly called Nameless (Jet Li), appears to seek a private audience with the naturally wary king.
Nameless claims to have battled and beaten all three of the king’s enemies - Broken Sword (Tony Leung), Flying Snow (Maggie Cheung) and Long Sky (Donnie Yen) - and modestly explains the details of the slayings. Even with the dead assassins’ weapons as proof of their demise at his feet, the king is unconvinced and proceeds to put forward a completely different version of how he thinks events played out.
Two powerful men with two opposing powerful stories, but which is the right one?
The actors carry off a solid set of performances, creating powerful, complex characters. Particularly of note is Jet Li’s portrayal of Nameless, our perfectly inscrutable hero warrior, who manages to subtly layer his character, leaving the audience questioning whether his motives are entirely honourable and honest. Maggie Cheung’s never faltering grace and beauty also shines through by combing a lethal combination of femme fatale with the ability to slay opponents with the ease of a warm knife through butter.
The director stretches the delicious battle scenes so that they make up a huge portion of the film, and revised in different ways according to who is telling the tale. Time is taken to create a tantalising flow of impressive frames that only serves to whet the appetite for the next. The direction is wonderfully unique, a prime example being when Nameless and Long Sky are engaged in battle purely in their minds. It is undoubtedly amazing visual art, but the audience would be forgiven for thinking they were being deliberately swept away by the set design to detract from the sometimes dubious plot points.
But, to be honest, it’s hard to care or be bothered to rack our brains over such mere doubts when there is so much more to be inspired by. Christopher Doyle is in charge of photography and has managed to create a masterpiece. Whether it’s the goose pimple inducing battle sequences, the majestic serenity of the floating assassins, or the fantastically vibrant use of nature and landscape that takes your breath away, it’s the perfection of imagery that makes Hero a must to watch.
Although the backdrop is arguably one of the most beautiful in cinematography, the halting nature of the narrative doesn’t give the characters enough opportunity to open up and develop to their fullest potential. Confusing changes in the storytelling and the battle scenes means the audience spends more time trying to figure this out and has less time concentrating on the characters. Subsequently, the film lacks the emotional appeal that made Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon such a winner.
Still, Zhang Yimou certainly has succeeded in making a special martial arts spectacle, although to merely class Hero as a martial arts film doesn’t give justice to the sublime richness of the movie. Although the warriors float around the screen as if part of a tightly woven, intricate dance, the audience knows that the possibility of blood, pain and death is ever present - a poetic brutality if you will - but these moments are kept comfortably waiting in the wings whilst the senses are overwhelmed by the genius of the picture.
All in all, this beautifully beguiling story is a timeless action movie, a heavyweight title clincher that will enjoy both commercial success as well as satisfying lovers of foreign films. At times lacking in plot substance and slightly confusing which, possibly, has been anticipated by the director, prompting the use of colour coding to indicate through which eyes the story is being told and also the individual stages in the story. However, this is a mere spot of rust in an otherwise impeccable suit of armour. Hero is an awe inspiring experience that should be sought by all movie lovers.
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
Finally, two years after its creation, and as a result of severe petitioning to Miramax Studios from Quentin Tarantino, Zhang Yimou’s Hero obtained its western cinematic and unedited DVD release. Following in the mould of its spiritual predecessor Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, Hero is a succession of sweeping landscapes, vivid colours and high wire action that sees Jet Li return to his native China to assume the lead role.
Summoned by the King, an orphaned warrior, Nameless, is hurriedly ushered through the gates of the palace so as to confirm a miraculous achievement. Presenting the Prime Minister with three boxes, each containing the weapons of three powerful assassins killed by Nameless, he is permitted into the throne room to drink tea with the King.
The King is a single-minded militant who wages war on the other regions in China, yet his philosophy is to do so not for personal gain but to make the nation strong, unifying them under a single leadership and language. Eager to learn how this mysterious warrior, who held a position of nothing more than a mere local Prefect in his Kingdom of Qin, defeated these assassins, the King invites Nameless to recount his feats. Nameless states he does not possess the abilities to have defeated them collectively yet reveals by separating and confronting each assailant individually he knew he would be victorious.
While it is widely known Broken Sword and Flying Snow are lovers, Nameless reveals that the couple had not spoken to each other in three years because of an illicit encounter Snow had had with the third assassin, Sky. Shown through flashback, Nameless, having infiltrated a calligraphy school in Zhao, reveals to the remaining martial arts masters the remains of Sky’s spear, claiming that Snow's compassion would lead her to avenge his death. This revelation leads to a startling and spiraling sequence of events where Broken Sword, distraught by the actions of his paramour, engages in sexual gratification with his student Moon to earn Snow’s resentment. Snow in a fit of indignation and rage retaliates by killing her former lover. Nameless, in the hall of the King, states this emotional unsettling as a result of the cunning plan he had instigated made the disposal of Snow in combat a formality.
After pondering this lavish tale, the King of Qin announces he has been deceived by the orphaned swordsman, and professes his own entirely new account of what transpired…
With directorial projects that have earned him Golden Bear’s and the elusive Grand Jury Prize, it is unsurprising that Hero exudes the confidence of a director who is comfortable in his craft. Hero is a visual feast as Zhang sculpts beautiful, if not iconic, imagery from the shifting landscapes of Chinese deserts through to the poetic motions of his actors’ choreography. It is impossible not to underestimate the painstaking effort that went into making sure the director achieved perfection in every single scene, as not one inch of the screen is wasted or not deliberately thought out. For the fight scene in the forest, between Maggie Cheung and Ziyi Zhang, Yimou Zhang had a man spend days there purely to inform him of when the leaves began turning yellow so that the director could achieve his vision of the juxtaposed yellow and red colours. Not simply this, but the lake scene involving both Cheung and Tony Leung could only be filmed for two hours a day because this was the only time the waters in the lake would be still enough to create the mirrored effect desired.
Yimou Zhang’s dedication to faultlessness in his artistry is the primary reason Hero is undeniably hypnotic in the sheer scale of its visual palette, but he accompanies this with an interweaving sequence of stories. When Jet Li’s Nameless delineates the fits of jealousy his craftiness sent Broken Sword and Snow into, the film and the characters are awash in red. From wearing red robes through to the red calligraphy house, there is a striking statement being made. It is only, however, when the King begins his hypothesis that the colours start to resonate as being more than just bright garlands when the same characters and school are depicted in a calming blue.
Zhang’s colour coding typifies the emotional thought processes of the characters, where red symbolises passion and rage; blue is representative of sacrifice; green is the exemplification of mercy; while white, as the closing of the thematic colours, can be interpreted as truth, birth or death. While the director has been quoted as claiming the colours bear no direct correlation to any one theme, this must be taken with a pinch of salt for Zhang is undoubtedly aware of the symbolism he himself must attribute to each shade - his declination of a definitive response has created much discussed ambiguity and subsequent publicity.
At its heart, despite the kaleidoscopic opticals, Hero is a martial arts film. Thankfully the high-wire choreography does not overly bend the rules of physics so as to feel nonsensical, but does so just enough to gift his characters an ethereal and benevolently enlightened feel. Despite Jet Li and Donnie Yen being the only schooled martial artists in the primary cast, the remaining protagonists all undertook weeks of training, and the result is there as evidence to the hard work they put in. Not one scene is compromised as a result of an individual’s inability - all the actors are beautifully convincing as they glide through air, bounce off lakes and pull off remarkable feats of dance-like combat.
There are criticisms that Hero, for all its breathtaking visuals, harbours an overriding doctrine of unification, and a philosophy that supports an individual's desire to bring peace to the masses through blood thirsty conflict and totalitarian rule. There are certain parallels that can be made to modern day China leading to a school of thought that Hero is pro-communist propaganda. However, as with the meaning of colours, Yimou Zhang’s true reasoning is open to interpretation by all, and while from a certain standpoint it is difficult to ignore these observations, it is also difficult to ignore the seemingly obvious that his story is based on history, and that certain events cannot be changed. Eastern cinema has a great penchant for the philosophical, endowing the perceived antagonists with moral codes, blurring the lines between 'good' and 'bad'. Yet the reasoning in this instance may be as simple as the director choosing to implement his poetic license, but then in Hero, nothing is ever quite as it first seems to be.
While some may have an unwillingness to swallow the simple premise as a means for justifying ninety minutes worth of sword-clanging, finding it a tedious exercise in high-wire showboating, it is impossible to deny the sheer beauty which resonates throughout this sumptuously narcotic feast.
Whether it be through majestic landscapes, the vibrancy and range of striking colours on show, or the graceful movements of some of China’s finest stars, Yimou Zhang champions a case for style when done with substance. BL
REVIEW: DVD Release: House Of Flying Daggers

Film: House Of Flying Daggers
Release date: 2nd May 2005
Certificate: 15
Running time: 114 mins
Director: Yimou Zhang
Starring: Ziyi Zhang, Andy Lau, Takeshi Kaneshiro, Dandan Song, Hongfei Zhao
Genre: Action/Adventure/Drama/Fantasy/Martial Arts/Romance
Studio: Pathe
Format: DVD
Country: China/Hong Kong
A triumphant work of artistic and directional genius, House Of Flying Daggers is an action romance that follows the tale of Mei, a suspected vigilante, and Jin, a governmental official, as they fight hidden enemies in search of the rebel group House of Flying Daggers. Having received international rave reviews, and an alleged 20 minute standing ovation at the Cannes Film Festival, it is no wonder that House Of Flying Daggers remains at the top of many a film lover’s list.
Set during the decline of Tang Dynasty China, the government and its officials are riddled with corruption. Amongst civil unrest, an underground alliance named House of Flying Daggers emerges with the purpose of combating corruption, and fairly redistributing the country’s wealth among its people.
While respected and revered by the common mass, House of Flying Daggers is hated by the local deputies who have vowed to destroy the allegiance. Despite having recently murdered the old leader of the Flying Daggers, the rebel group only becomes stronger due to the presence of a mysterious new leader, whom Captain Jin (Takeshi Kaneshiro) and Captain Leo (Andy Lau) of the Chinese authority are given ten days to find and destroy.
Leo sends Jin, a flirtatious and unscrupulous playboy, to investigate claims that a Daggers affiliate is masquerading as a show girl at the Peony Pavilion. At the brothel, they find and arrest the beautiful blind artisan Xiao Mei (Zhang Ziyi), a dagger wielding martial arts master with a political agenda. Mei is incarcerated as rumours circulate that she is in fact the blind daughter of the late Daggers leader. In a cunning plot, Leo and Jin plan to trick Mei into leading them to the Daggers secret location.
Under the false pretence of being an admirer of the Daggers, Jin springs Mei from prison and leads her away from the governmental officials - or so she thinks. The two are followed closely by Leo and the local militia, who fake an ambush to convince Mei of Jin’s sincerity. Apparently blissfully unaware of the scheme, Mei begins to trust Jin, and an unlikely romance blossoms, as Jin’s game of trickery and deceit escalates into a real life and death drama, where the two find themselves battling unseen foes in their quest for safety and to find the concealed Daggers…
House Of Flying Daggers is an undisputable triumph of both acting and direction. Zhang Yimou’s signatory use of riotous colour makes the film an opulent reflection of the Tang dynasty, whose art work is typified by the type of grandeur that Zhang Yimou infuses this film with. The visuals themselves are so spectacular that they move as a piece of artwork, and continue to transcend the usual role of scenery in film. In this case, Zhang Yimou has achieved a remarkable harmony between scenery and plot, where the background becomes as important, if not more, than the story line itself.
Unlike previous martial arts films, House Of Flying Daggers provides the perfect melange of nail biting romance and heart stopping action. The kung fu throughout is gorgeously choreographed, and acts to enrich both the plot and setting. Moving effortlessly through the air, these blood-splattering, action packed encounters add to the sense of mystery and drama, as well as providing a visual thrill for the audience.
The use of sound throughout is extremely important, and masterfully heightens and intensifies the film experientially. Musical whiz kid Umebayashi is behind the score for House Of Flying Daggers. This sensitive soundtrack amalgamates eastern and western influences to provide a contemporary, yet in keeping take on traditional Chinese music.
The storyline is a little wanting, and the characters are superficial without much depth or development. The script is clichéd and a little predictable throughout the middle section, however, the final scenes make up for the lacklustre build up. Despite all this, the plot is not disappointing, as the main emphasis in the film is that of the visual and audio sensationalism, which more than compensates for any storyline flaws. The story, like that in an opera, is not crucial to the overall experience but merely provides a spider web framework in which Zhang Yimou weaves his phantasmagorical action-romance.
Interestingly, the foundation of a weak script does not equate to poor performances from any of the actors. Before taking on the role of Mei, Zhang Ziyi is rumoured to have spent two months preparation time with a young blind girl, in order to perfect and authenticate her performance. This would indeed be no surprise as her portrayal of the blind Mei is flawless. Zhang Ziyi brings an exciting dimension to the character of this gritty and determined young girl, by ensuring that Mei’s hard façade is penetrated by moments of endearing vulnerability and displays of passionate love, anger and hatred.
Zhang Ziyi’s ephemeral beauty juxtaposed with Xiao Mei’s serious martial arts skills makes this no-nonsense vigilante the deserved heroine of the film. Takeshi Kaneshiro’s performance of Jin brings this cheeky chappy to life. The womanizing Jin, however, is no match for Xiao Mei, and it must be said that despite his characteristically good acting, Takeshi Kaneshiro could not hold a torch next to Ziyi’s. Andy Lau proves himself to be a likely contender for the title of Daggers Heart throb, as he plays his role of the focused Captain Leo credibly, and adds a certain mysterious je ne sais quoi to the character.
This gripping love story, laced with espionage and betrayal, is a sure hit. Zhang Yimou’s glorious utilisation of colour, coupled with his ingenious take on audio sound effects, acts to showcase this directors true talent. The thoroughly convincing performances by the entire cast, especially Zhang Ziyi, will embroil you in this twisting tale, filled with double bluffs and surprising turns. House Of Flying Daggers is an absolute must see, that will act to either inspire or feed your kung fu film addiction, and is guaranteed to leave you gasping for more. HRP
SPECIAL FEATURE: DVD Review: Raise The Red Lantern
Film: Raise The Red Lantern
Running time: 125 mins
Director: Yimou Zhang
Starring: Li Gong, Jingwu Ma, Saifei He, Cuifen Cao, Qi Zhao
Genre: Drama
Country: China/Hong Kong/Taiwan
Region 1 release.
Raise The Red Lantern, Zhang Yimou’s powerful and evocative depiction of life in 1920s feudal China, was nominated for several awards and won a BAFTA for best foreign film of 1993.
The storyline, adapted from the 1990 novel Wives And Concubines by Su Tong, follows the fortunes of a young student who is forced to marry a wealthy overlord.
At the age of 19, Songlian (played by Gong Li) is uprooted from her family home to become a bird in a gilded cage, at the mercy of her powerful husband Chen (Ma Jingwu).
As his fourth wife (effectively one of his concubines), Songlian has to contend with the jealousy of other three and vie for his attention, as she struggles to find her place in the oppressive confines of the palace which has become her prison.
The red lantern which is raised outside the home of the woman chosen to share her husband’s bed each night is a sought-after status symbol among the wives...
This Chinese-Taiwanese co-production, sumptuously shot and rich in period detail, with the ancient city of Pingyao in Shanxi Province providing an authentic backdrop, paints a compelling portrait of four wives locked in a cold war with each other, gradually stripping away the stately facade to reveal the savage instinct for survival which drives them.
Wife number one, Yuru (Jin Shuyuan), is the matriarch, whose position is assured since she has produced a son and heir. Chen’s son Feipu (Xiao Chu) is a student of a similar age to Songlian, and the brief, understated exchanges between the young pair hint at what might have been, in different circumstances.
Zhuoyun, wife number two, (Cao Cuifen) takes the newcomer under her wing and warns that she will have to contend with the jealousy of the third wife, Meishan (played with panache by He Cafei) who is an opera singer and something of a diva.
Adding further complications to the multi-layered plot is Songlian’s maidservant Yaner (Gong Lin), who turns out to be another of Chen’s lovers, and secretly conspires against her own mistress. Chen himself is a shadowy figure whose face is not shown until the denouement of the film, but his threatening presence is felt throughout.
When he finds Songlian’s most treasured possession – a flute belonging to her late father, whose death left the family bankrupt and lead to the arranged marriage – he destroys it, believing it had been given to her by an admirer. This is one in a series of small but significant incidents which conspire to crush Songlian’s spirit - until she begins to fight back.
Within the confines of the wives’ quarters, the camera focuses closely on the elaborate rules and rituals of their daily lives. When Meishan is temporarily in favour with Chen, she revels in her position by ordering only meat dishes for the communal meal, a deliberate snub to Songlian, a vegetarian.
The rivalry between the women intensifies when Meishan invites the local medic, Dr Gao, to one of her soirees. Songlian notices Meishan playing footsie with the doctor under the table and, drunk after the party, tells the other women what she has seen, not anticipating the terrible consequences of her actions. These fierce lionesses, closely guarding their pride of place in the palace, lie in wait to unleash their claws on each other, and Songlian eventually learns that she can trust no-one.
Gong Li gives a subtle and sensitive portrayal of a young girl caught up in a world of intrigue, who is forced to become cunning and ruthless to survive, taking revenge on her rivals, but losing her sense of self in the process.
With each new twist and turn, this tale of Chinese whispers raises the stakes until it becomes clear that the ensuing power struggle can only end in tragedy.
While the film was initially censured in communist China for its supposed anti-authoritarian message, this polished piece of cinematography nevertheless became a classic which firmly established the international reputation of Zhang Yimou, who later went on to direct the critically-acclaimed House Of The Flying Daggers.
The attention to detail, colourful camera work and well-observed characterisation combine to make this a masterful and memorable piece of storytelling. AL
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