Curse of the Golden Flower

I fell asleep through Curse of the Golden Flower , then a few days later tried to watch it again, although I got through it I wouldn't recommend it because it lacks a lot of in depth activity and is drawn out.

The film could have told its story in half the time in my opinion.

Curse Of The Golden Flower

The Forbidden City, The Tang Dynasty, China. Having discovered his spirited wife's (Li) infidelity with his son and heir (Liu), malevolent Emperor Ping (Yun-Fat) has ordered her daily medicine to be poisoned with a mind-deteriorating mushroom. Uncovering this wicked plot from a mysterious female spy, Empress Phoenix prepares her revenge against him with the help of her devoted warrior son, Prince Jai (Chou). As the Empress's health steadily worsens, further secrets and betrayals re-emerge that will devastate every member of royal family, tearing down their united front and finally provoking a call to arms.

Zhang Yimou, easily China's most ambitious director, is now well established as the helmer of well-crafted, classy martial arts extravaganzas. His previous epics Hero and House of Flying Daggers captivated us with good old fashioned tales of honour and heroism, coupled with staggering stunts and jaw-dropping visuals. So, many of his fans might be slightly baffled by this third, and apparently final, instalment of what he calls his 'wushu trilogy'. Surprisingly, Yimou's latest delve into ancient China is conspicuously high in discussion and low on action. In fact this regal tale of family loyalties, incest and betrayal seems to have more in common with a Greek Tragedy or Shakespearean drama than Asian actioneer.

First off - a warning; The Curse of the Golden Flower is hard to watch. This has nothing to do with the level of violence, which is atypically sparse but typically bloodless, nor anything to do with the convoluted plot, which is, by previous standards, relatively straightforward. Visually however, Yimou's latest is the cinematic equivalent of an acid trip. For those of us enamoured with Hero's gorgeously simple colour-coded palate, provided by genius cinematographer Christopher Doyle, Curse of the Golden Flower will come as something of a shock. Gone are the splendid panoramic vistas. New collaborator Xiaoding Zhao keeps us locked up inside stiflingly lavish sets along with the heroine, painting every frame with liberal splashes of gaudy prime colours to rival Joel Schumacher in Batman mode. Everything from dresses to drapes looks like it's been in a hot wash with Joseph's technicoloured dream coat. Gone too is the quiet, dignified grandeur of its forebears. Competing with their set for our attention the characters tear around the place as dramatically as can be, and everywhere you look there's a pair of ripe bosoms threatening to escape a rib-crunching bodice. But, once you've adjusted your senses to all this flamboyance, there's no denying the striking beauty, and Yimou's penchant for melodrama rarely exceeds what this story of passion and propriety demands.

Only occasionally does Yimou grant us respite from all the decadence of Gong Li's exquisite prison, and fittingly these location scenes are like coming up for air. Zhao demonstrates he also has an eye for more conventional beauty as we're taken to golden mountains for the film's first all-out fight sequence. Here Yimou finally delivers some truly innovative action, with black clad ninjas soaring through the air with grapple hooks and zip-wires and ready to kick some ass. Action aficionados will be left wanting though, as these moments are few and far between, and, in keeping with the mostly sombre tone, the stuntmen rein in their more outrageous gravity defying moves. This isn't to say the unfurling personal drama isn't riveting to watch. Like with all the Bard's best, it's just as pleasing to witness the clashing of venomous words as of swords. Yun-Fat is effectively nonchalant as the cruel patriarch, although we're not given enough cause to thoroughly hate him. The standout role of course belongs to Gong Li, who, as a mixture of Hamlet's Gertrude and Anthony and Cleopatra's Egyptian drama-queen, brilliantly portrays the proud Empress attempting to conceal a well of emotion beneath a flawless mask of makeup.

With two thirds of the film dedicated to establishing the ticking time bomb of repressed emotions and hidden agendas, it becomes clear that the film could easily collapse under the combined weight of Gong Li's opulent head gear and its own plot strands. On the odd occasion things threaten to descend into Eastenders-worthy farce (in some situations there is literally nothing left to do but run away screaming), but one suspects in these more ridiculous moments Yimou's tongue is lodged firmly inside his cheek. When it all eventually explodes Yimou abandons restraint entirely and pulls out all the stops, staging his most ambitious battle yet in a courtyard of potted chrysanthemums, which is equally absurd and enthralling. It's all terrific fun, but what we're missing in all the chaos of the final act however is a real hero. Chou's un-charismatic prince just doesn't cut it.

Unconventional, outrageous and overwrought though it may be, we mustn't begrudge Yimou's desire to try something a bit different. What we get is the closest he's yet come to a character study, but with all the thrills of the best kind of theatre. Besides, we don't need another Hero.