I wouldn't watch it twice...
I suppose I'm taking the contrary view, here. This was awful purty to look at and all, but I had a hard time taking it as seriously as it seemed to take itself. Maybe it was the bloodless, Chinese flavor of the fight scenes. My first exposure to martial arts on film was THE SEVEN SAMURAI, in which the sword play felt realistic, even if it was executed with an almost magical dexterity. I have no idea whether samurai can really do what they did in Kurasawa's film, but I sure as hell believed it at the time.
When the Nameless one and Broken Sword battle by the lake, I had to suppress chuckles as they swooped through the air and danced on the water. I'll grant it a few great moments: my favorite was the empty, man-shaped space on the arrow-covered wall of the Great Hall, a sad shadow that perfectly suggested the human pincushion that was somewhere off camera. (For some reason, it reminded of the volleys of gunfire that mark the final moments of Butch and Sundance.)
But "an action move for the ages?" (Michael Wilmington), "an exemplary feat of filmmaking" (Wesley Morris) or "a masterpiece" (Richard Corlis)... I don't think so.
For those interested in related reading, check this article on CROUCHING TIGER, HIDDEN DRAGON, stumbled across in the course of some Knowledge Management research.
2 comments:
I would - and did - watch it twice. On the Rolston scale, I'd say this is **** Recommended Entertainment.
My main gripe with the film was that as one not well-versed in Chinese history, I was confused by the whole One China thing. Sure, uniting the states and bringing about peace sounds like a good idea... except for that bit about the emperor's ruthlessness and intent to invade and conquer other countries as well. Doesn't sound like such a good leader to me.
The battle by the lake may have made you chuckle, but I oohed and aahed. I admit I was particularly smitted with the first fight scene - the Nameless one and Broken Sword with the raindrops; and also the fight between the two women among all the flying leaves. I'm a sucker for that kind of thing.
It may require an acceptance of a genre's conventions to regard them as charming rather than risable. Westerns, boxing films, gangster films, Pink Panther films... one man's comfortable house shoes are another man's tacky bunny slippers.
The pageantry of the emperor's hall persuades me of the sweep of history. Peace and unification as the ironic product of cruel totalitarian imperial rule is a familiar historical theme for me. The conventions are, just that, conventions, and hollow and unpersuasive. But, like conventions in poetic forms, when executed with charm and originality, they please and satisfy the hearts of the fans.
There's no question but that SEVEN SAMAURI is a far greater film in every way. It is also true that lesser products of a genre are, by definition, weaker tea. Affection for a given genre and its convention seems to be a matter of taste.
HERO is certainly not a masterpiece of Hong Kong film. I'm not sure what is. I am certain that CROUCHING TIGER, HIDDEN DRAGON is not the masterpiece. There may not be a SEVEN SAMAURI of Hong Kong film. But I would argue that HERO, HOUSE OF FLYING DAGGERS, and KUNG FU HUSTLE are each, in their own ways, classic and peerless examples of Hong Kong film, while CROUCHING TIGER, HIDDEN DRAGON is, at best, an average example, and a watered-down and flawed one, at that.
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