Raise 'em bosoms! Director's Obsession gets the better of him in his latest Oeuvre
Written: Jan 05 '07 (Updated Jan 05 '07)
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Product Rating:
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| Bang For The Buck |
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Pros: jaw-dropping battle scenes; casting; acting; costumes
Cons: unintentionally hilarious at times; gaudy interior sets; cleavage meter completely out of control
The Bottom Line: While the most dysfunctional royal family of them all tears itself to pieces, the audience is distracted by a preponderance of shapely bosoms all but overflowing their corseted confines.
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| jc_hall's Full Review: Curse of the Golden Flower |
Director Zhang Yimou's latest oeuvre, a period melodrama based on Cao Yu's 1934 drama Thunderstorm and set in the imperial court of the late Tang Dynasty, during the turbulent Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period, Curse of the Golden Flower is inaptly named. For starters, there's no curse (unless you consider the whole ill-fated family cursed by the gods), and the literal translation from the original is ‘whole city wearing golden armour’, or, less literally, ‘storming of the palace by gold-armoured assailants’ –a key scene in the movie.
Zhang (Red Sorghum, Ju Dou, Raise the Red Lantern, Hero, House of Flying Daggers) has assembled a stellar cast that includes Hong Kong filmstar Chow Yun-fat (Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, Bullet-Proof Monk, Anna and the King) in the role of an emperor of humble origins, a lowly captain who clawed his way to the throne and, in his declining years, is intent on keeping it. He is a smiling tiger, wily and cruel, and the amiable Chow, cast against type, does a good job conveying the man’s malevolence, his offhanded cruelty, and his barely-concealed wrath.
Zhang’s muse Gong Li (Red Sorghum, Ju Dou, Raise the Red Lantern, Farewell My Concubine, Temptress Moon, Memoirs of a Geisha) teams up with Zhang Yimou once again to take on the role of a disenchanted empress. The emperor married her, a princess, out of expediency, and no love is lost between this mismatched pair. Her three-year affair with her step-son, the Crown Prince Wan (played by Liu Ye), has been broken off by the prince who is palpably terrified of her. He has since taken up with the delectable Jiang Chan (played by Li Man), daughter of the Imperial Physician. When the empress learns of this new affair, she flies into a jealous rage. But by banishing Chan and her father and mother (the latter holds a secret that the emperor is hiding), the empress shows herself to be much more humane than the emperor who, with full complicity of the Imperial Physician, has been for some time slowly poisoning his empress.
Determined not to go down without a fight, the empress engages the help of her son, Prince Jai (Taiwanese heartthrob Jay Chou), newly returned from the front and horrified at his mother’s suffering at his father’s hands. Leading an army of rebels faithful to the empress, he pits these golden-armoured troops against his father’s on the eve of Chung Yang festival when chrysanthemums (the titular golden flower) bloom, and the two sides engage in the most awe-inspiring, albeit CGI-enhanced, battle scene where contrasting waves of colour-coded soldiers flow across the screen in battle formation, only to dissolve into highly realistic, bloody, mortal combat.
Meanwhile, the youngest Prince Yu (played by Qin Junjie), ingratiating but neglected, commits an atrocious act, unleashing a murderous fury in the emperor that borders on madness. Yes indeed, this is high drama—melodrama—of the tragic, almost operatic, bent. There are shades of King Lear here, by way of Akira Kurasawa’s Ran.
Zhang’s not only channelling Shakespeare, he’s also tapping into his previous successes (the all-consuming colours of Hero; the spectacular fighting sequences of House of Flying Daggers). However, that’s pretty much where the similarities to his previous works end. Curse is a radical departure from all he’s done so far, in that it’s notable first and foremost for its excesses.
With a budget of $45 million, Curse is the most expensive and prestigious Chinese movie to date, already chosen as China's entry to the 2006 Academy Awards for Best Foreign Film. We’re talking extravagance with a capital E—costumes alone are rumoured to have cost millions. No doubt production designer Huo Tingxiao was aiming for an oppressive sense of opulence. Yet the visual sumptuousness misfires at times, with an oddly-chosen palette of colours for the interior sets, for instance, that is gaudy and contrived. The colours do come alive in the outdoor scenes, however, especially in the armour of the various contingents of soldiers and assassins, and the sheer scope of the battle-scene with its sea of golden chrysanthemum blossoms.
Critics have complained about the casting, though this reviewer has no trouble with Chow being cast against type and thought he acquitted himself very well in the role. As for the other charge of over-emoting, we are talking high melodrama after all. The most dysfunctional royal family in period drama is tearing itself apart amid betrayal, incest and palace intrigue, with a rebellion brewing in the background, so some heavy breathing and daggered stares are to be expected.
The choice of Gong Li as the empress is a foregone conclusion, her being Zhang’s muse since Ju Dou and Red Sorghum, and she acquits herself more than adequately. Her disdain of palace servants, her imperiousness, her loathing of her husband are conveyed with little more than a glance and a curl of her lip. At the same time, her humanity is never in any doubt. Her jealousy over the Crown Prince’s new affair, her desperate and frustrated concern for him at a dangerous juncture, her all-consuming grief at his violent death—all this is conveyed silently yet eloquently by her expressive face.
However, it would be remiss of me not to mention another part of Gong Li that is so much in evidence in Curse. Indeed, kudos should also be given to Gong Li’s bosom—formidable and squeezed up to astonishing—nay, alarming—heights. At times, it appeared to be emoting as hard as the actress herself. As for the actress (Li Man) who played the part of Chan, the Imperial Physician’s daughter, she must have been chosen as much for her luscious bosom as for her admittedly exquisite facial features. If there were an Academy Award for the Best Body Part, Li Man’s flawless and shapely mounds would be the hands-down winner, with Gong Li’s formidable pair sure to garner, at the very least, an honourable mention.
Too many—way too many—times the camera dwelled on said bosoms so lovingly (despite what was happening to owners of said bosoms—usually something dire) that me and my husband giggled and at times even burst out laughing. When I should have been agonizing over the fate of the royal family, I was instead imagining Zhang shouting at the unfortunate costumes mistress: ‘Tighter! No! I said tighter, dammit! No, tighter still!’ And: ‘Higher! No! Not high enough! I want those babies aimed skyward!’ And: ‘Make ’em jiggle! Stride down the corridor, luv. Aim that camera square at her cleavage. Square, I say! Now bounce down the flight of steps.’
And when I was certain he would up the ante and put Li Man on a galloping horse, lo! She came hurtling across the screen on a galloping horse, her exquisite bosom bouncing and jiggling for all it was worth, as if it too were labouring under the illusion that an Academy Award for Best Body Part existed, and was striving hard to make itself worthy of that distinction. Seriously though, at times, those babies were at risk of spilling from their uplifting confines. No doubt that happened off-camera enough times to satisfy both director and cameraman Zhao Xiaoding (Riding Alone for Thousands of Miles, Flying Daggers).
In conclusion, Curse sees Zhang Yimou aiming high but falling short, way short, of perfection. Curse is cursed with a long list of excesses, so much so that high drama devolves into melodrama and even, on occasion, into farce. One suspects that Zhang went all out for every aspect—drama, emotion, colour, action—and ended up losing control of the big picture for the individual set pieces. Having said that, it’s eye candy for those who enjoy period dramas, and I for one have seen a lot worse. It may not be among Zhang’s best, but it’s still good enough in parts (especially the battle scenes and the martial arts action sequences) to satisfy die-hard fans of the genre.
Recommended:
No
Movie Mood: Die-hard Fans Only
Viewing Method: Studio Screening/Premiere
Film Completeness: A few glitches, but mostly complete.
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Epinions.com ID:
jc_hall
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Member: JC Hall
Location: Toronto, Canada
Reviews written: 199
Trusted by: 54 members
About Me:
Going back to Vancouver for Christmas! Happy Holidays, everyone!!
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