"The Emperor and the Assassin," the new movie by Chen Kaige, (director of "Temptress Moon" and one of my favorites, "Farewell My Concubine") is a film of paradoxes. At its center is a man who ruled with an iron fist, a despotic tyrant responsible for the genocide of conquered peoples and the mass murder of children. This is Ying Zheng, the king of Qin and the first emperor of a unified China. Yet Ying, as played by Li Xuejian, is a sentimental man of deep emotions, who adores his mother, is affectionate with his courtiers, and dreams of a peaceful, unified China. His nemesis, Jing Ke (the "assassin" of the title), is likewise a riddle: a master assassin who has sworn not to kill. These two men and the woman that each loves are the centerpieces of Chen's latest masterpiece, an epic tale of war, love and betrayal.

As the film opens, Lady Zhao (Gong Li), Ying's intended bride, proclaims that she wishes to return to Zhao, her homeland as well as that of Ying's mother. Her reasoning: though they were childhood sweethearts and she still harbors affection for him, he has changed as a person after becoming king. He asks her to attend a meeting between him and emissaries from a neighboring kingdom, where he eloquently manages to sway her with his dreams of a unified China. With new resolve, she concocts a plan in which she will aid the hostage prince of Yan to escape, and convince him to send an assassin to kill Ying. Ying would therefore have a legitimate reason to invade Yan, his most powerful enemy and biggest obstacle to unification.

Once in Yan, she discovers Jing Ke (played by another Chen veteran, Zhang Fengyi), an expert assassin, who through a harrowing experience on a job has sworn never to kill again. The prince knows that this is the man he wants for the job, and threatens Zhao unless she agrees to convince him to take the assignment. Zhao, of course, has her own reasons for thinking him a perfect candidate for the mission.

However, all does not go as planned. Intrigue abounds in the Qin court, and coup attempts and damaging revelations about the king himself cause a chain of events that result in a devastating attack on Lady Zhao's homeland. Ying, in his fervent desire to accomplish his dream and fulfill the edict of his ancestors, has become completely paranoid. Will she vow revenge on the man she loves? Is he even the man she loves anymore?

The two male leads are standouts. Li gives a shattering performance as Ying, who at first has the world on a string, and later finds that it is spiraling out of his control. He portrays both the inner conscience of the king as well as his cold ruthlessness, as his character descends from a man that is essentially good to one that is nothing but an empty shell. Zhang Fengyi, who was so good as the emotionally volcanic Duan in "Farewell, My Concubine," is much more restrained as the penitent assassin. Still, he conveys a strength of resolve and a nobility that is essential to the character.

Lady Zhao is played by Chen favorite Gong Li ("Is she the only actress in China?" asks a friend), and his camera's love affair with her continues in this film. The lens lingers on her face for the majority of almost every scene she is in. This is not a bad thing, as she is certainly a talented actress capable of imbuing a simple facial gesture with great emotional depth; however, one could argue that this slightly artifical emphasis comes at the cost of showcasing the performances of the two male leads, who are also superb. At any rate, nothing should be taken away from Gong's performance -- it is excellent.

Most, if not all of the supporting players are superb as well: Wang Zhiwen as the conniving marquis, who evolves from an amusing fop to a noble, tragic figure; Gu Yongfei, the Queen Mother; and Chen himself as Lu Buwei, the disgraced prime minister of Qin.

Chen's direction can seem highly idiosyncratic at times; he favors the use of abrupt and startling jump cuts, which often makes the passage of time and sequence of events difficult to interpret. This causes the exposition to seem especially disjointed and confusing. Most of the dialog seems to have been dubbed in post; while this is common practice in Asia, it may be jarring to American viewers. In addition, there seems to have been something wrong with the print reviewed (at the Egyptian Theater in Seattle); skipped frames abounded.

The film itself, though, like any Chen Kaige work, is awe-inspiringly beautiful. The sets and cinematography are every bit as up to par as "Temptress Moon" or "Farewell," and the epic battle scenes, especially one that takes place in the courtyard of the palace, are jaw-droppingly beautiful. The costumes, notably those worn by the king, Lady Zhao and the Marquis are beautifully crafted and colorful. I can't think of a movie I've seen in recent memory that better evokes the period of an ancient era than this.

"The Emperor and the Assassin," while quite a bit grander in scope than "Farewell My Concubine," is just as much a story of three characters helplessly mired in the political landscape of their time. While less emotionally concentrated than the earlier film, this latest effort is still one that you should run out and see if you have the slightest interest in Chinese history or just like epic romances. It's a masterpiece and one of my top films of 1999.

Highly recommended.

Michael's 5-point rating: 4.5/5




Recommended: Yes