When a film fits into a well-established genre category, reviewers quite naturally evaluate that film against the rest of its genre. The standards by which a particular film within a genre is measured become increasingly well defined over time. Like other arts, filmmaking evolves over time and some new films are part of an evolutionary process by which a new trend is emerging. Zhang Yimou's House of Flying Daggers is, perhaps, the third film is an evolving new genre (or subgenre) that combines action sequences from the tradition of martial arts films with visual techniques and/or themes previously associated with art films. Its predecessors in this trend were Ang Lee's enormously successful Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000) and Zhang's own Hero (2002).

What is the audience for these films and what is it that they want? The audience for martial arts films is composed mainly of adolescent and young adult males seeking primarily an adrenaline rush, while the audience for art films has generally been older, more sophisticated (I don't intend that as a value judgment), and more gender balanced. One might wonder whether this recent spat of artsy martial arts epics are aimed at bringing action to art-film audiences or introducing artsy visual qualities to action buffs, but, in the end, the intention in making these films is less important than what kind of audience they actually draw. In reading dozens of reviews of House of Flying Daggers, it seems obvious to me that some reviewers are judging these films as a variation on the martial arts genre while others are judging them as a development in art films. The criteria by which one judges House of Flying Daggers is the whole ballgame in choosing an overall rating for this film because its strengths are unusually impressive but its weaknesses especially pathetic. Compared to Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and Hero, House of Flying Daggers strikes a balance between the martial arts tradition and the art film tradition that is closer to the former than the latter. With seven extended fight scenes, the sheer percentage of the film that is action-for-action's-sake is high while the portion of the film devoted to plot exposition or character development is relatively small. Viewers coming at this film out of a love for the martial arts genre will have no problem with the relative lack of a story or the rather shallow, overly sentimental, and, at times, almost laughable love story, since it still represents more concession to substance and romance than most martial arts films care to provide. For those coming at the film from a love of high quality art films, House of Flying Daggers represents a backsliding from the two predecessor films of this type. For me, as a viewer in the latter category, the first fight scene was exciting, the second one (the echo dance) was utterly magnificent (a classic, even), the third and fourth were engaging, but the fifth, sixth, and seventh became increasingly boring and redundant. The highly touted sequence in the bamboo forest just kept going on, and on, and on – like that damn energizer bunny.

The marriage of martial arts to art film techniques reminds me, a bit, of another trend in filmmaking (which I broached in my review of Baise-Moi): the integration of pornography with serious drama. It's a similar kind of trend because, in each case, one partner in the respective marriages is a film type designed mainly for emotional titillation while the other is one traditionally associated with higher aspirations. Pure sex and pure violence each seem to be searching out the validation of higher purpose. I'm supportive of both of these experimental trends but, frankly, I won't personally be won over to the success of the efforts until the balance achieved is more substantially in the direction of the higher aspirations. A whole lot of martial arts combined with great visuals but a feeble plot and laughable romantic intrigue is just not my idea of great cinema. A great drama supplemented by martial arts action might be. Nevertheless, the visuals in House of Flying Daggers are so exceptional that I would recommend seeing the film on that basis alone. Moreover, many film buffs will derive some pleasure from keeping up with the latest developments in cinema. For those who love martial arts action for its own sake, recommending this film is an easy call.

Historical Background: Zhang Yimou made a name for himself among lovers of art films through six great films made in conjunction with the magnificent Chinese actress Gong Li, who was also his lover from 1987-1995. These critically acclaimed dramas included Red Sorghum (1987), Ju Dou (1989), Raise the Red Lantern (1991), The Story of Qiu Ju (1992), To Live (1994), and Shanghai Triad (1995). After his personal and professional breakup with Gong Li, Zhang has made a conscious effort to branch out in his work, directing comedies, such as Keep Cool (1997) and Happy Times (2000), a drama in Not One Less (1999), a romantic fable Road Home (1999), and the two artsy marital arts films, Hero (2002), and House of the Flying Daggers (2004). He states that his intent, with the latest pair of films, was to combine martial arts action with emotional depth. By that criterion, Hero succeeds better than this newer entry.

The Story: I can't say too much about this story, first, because there's not much to it and, second, about halfway through the film, several twists are introduced that would be unfair to give away to readers. I'll limit my synopsis to the set-up. A group of rebels called the "House of Flying Daggers" is fighting to bring down the corrupt Tang Dynasty in 859 A.D. Leo (Andy Lau) and Jin (Takeshi Kaneshiro) are captains of the imperial guard who have been assigned the task of discovering the location of the rebel base. The former leader of the House of Flying Daggers was killed recently, leaving behind a blind daughter. Leo and Jin learn that there is an usually talented blind girl, Mei (Zhang Ziyi), dancing at the local brothel/night club, called the "Peony Pavilion." Among his other skills, Jin is a womanizer and a skilled seducer, so he is given the job of going "undercover" to become acquainted with the blind dancer at the club. After a fight breaks out [fight sequence #1], Leo has both Jin and Mei arrested (the former only to maintain his cover).

The madam of Peony Pavilion begs Leo not to arrest Mei because she is the star of the club. Leo agrees to release Mei if she can demonstrate her prowess to his satisfaction in a game of "Echo" (vaguely reminiscent of the electronic game called "Simon"). A series of drums tuned to different pitches is set up on poles around the dance floor. Leo tosses a nut that strikes one of the drums. Mei then has to strike the same drum with the weighted tip of the long sleeves of her costume. The second nut strikes two drums and the third four drums. Each time, Mei has to correctly reproduce the sequence of tones. Finally, Leo tosses the entire bowl of nuts and Mei dances wildly, reproducing note after note. At the end of the dance, Mei attacks Leo and the pair get into an extended battle [fight sequence #2], culminating in Mei arrest.

The guards discover a set of daggers in Mei's room that suggest she is indeed the daughter of the former leader of the rebels. In the jail, Mei is threatened with torture if she doesn't reveal the location of the House of Flying Daggers. Leo realizes, however, that Mei will die before she'll talk, so he devises another plan. He arranges for Jin to break Mei out of jail by a daring attack on the guards [fight sequence #3]. Mei still has no idea that Jin is actually an imperial agent. Then, having rescued her, gaining her confidence should be an easy task for an experienced seducer like Jin.

As the pair make their getaway, they are attacked by pursuing guards, first, in a woods [fight sequence #4], later, in a field [fight sequence #5], and, finally, in a bamboo forest [fight sequence #6]. Leo and Jin had staged the first of those battles for Mei's benefit, so that she'd be fully convinced of Jin's loyalty. Meanwhile, however, the general who supervises Leo and Jin and who has no concern about loss of lives decides that there needs to be real bloodshed to ensure that Mei is convinced. He sends a whole slew of guards who don't know that Jin is on their own side with orders to fight to kill. Leo ends up having to fight for his life and Mei's instead of merely pretending to do so. Their situation becomes highly precarious at a couple of points, but they are saved by the intervention of some unseen ally.

The rest of the developments cannot be outlined without spoilers. I'll only add that a classic love triangle emerges and the final battle [fight sequence #7] plays out as a showdown between romantic rivals.

Themes: The closest thing to a real theme in this film, in my opinion, is the notion of "chemistry" as a factor in romantic attraction. Mei finds herself, at one point, in love with a person with whom she shares neither values nor goals. She finds herself having fallen out-of-love with another who has long been devoted to her, whom she once loved, and with whom she shares political allegiance. Feelings are strange things and not always subject to control by the rational mind. We might love someone despite every bit of our common sense telling us that it would be a match made in hell. Then, as a twist on that primary theme, more than one character in this film has been assigned the task of seduction, of pretending to be in love with another so as to gain some strategic advantage. Sometimes, however, we become the roles that we play. If we play at being in love with someone long enough, we may discover that we have unwittingly fallen in love with that person, in actuality.

Production Values: The short version of my assessment of production values for this film is superlative visuals and action and utterly pedestrian plot and script (exclusive of fight-scene choreography). To take the plot and script issues first, the story of this film strikes me as what one might expect from an animated short. Take out the many extended fight scenes (during which no significant plot exposition or character development occurs), and the film would truly qualify as a short. There's none of the lyrical dialog that we identified with Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and the so-called love story is maudlin trash. There are plenty of twists and turns, but with so little plot depth, the twists and turns come across as a desperate effort to keep the story afloat. A plot turn is just not all that dramatic when the plot is mostly directionless.

There are a couple of specific script flaws as well. The entire initial premise for the film was the conflict between the existing decadent Tang dynasty and the Robin Hood-like rebels. That's how the story begins but the conflict between the dynasty and the rebels is never brought to culmination. Instead, the story winds up with a resolution to the love triangle, which wasn't even a plot element until near the end of the film. The second flaw is that the general sends his soldiers with orders to kill Jin and Mei, when the entire reason for arresting Mei and letting her escape was to get her to lead the imperial soldiers to the House of Flying Daggers hideout. If Jin and Mei are killed (they very nearly are twice), the general will have lost his best lead.

The visuals are about as splendid as any film has ever offered. I'm no expert on martial arts sequences, but the ones in this film seemed intricate, beautifully choreographed, and stunning overall. I do, however, have some familiarity with qualities of cinematography, and this film provides one utterly gorgeous landscape after another as well as sumptuously ornate interiors at the Peony Pavilion. As in most Zhang films, the color palette is unusually rich. One glorious scene begins in a field lined by trees in the full fiery palette of autumn foliage but culminates in the white blanket produced by a snowstorm.

The cast is admirable, not only the three leads but their respective stunt doubles. Zhang Ziyi is gorgeous, as always, and displays a powerful range of emotional expressiveness as well. Zhang's other work to date includes Road Home (1999), Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000), and Hero (2002). I thought Kaneshiro and Lau very strong in their parts as well. Kaneshiro has just the right combination of handsomeness and winsomeness to seem credible as the caddish Jin. Kaneshiro worked also in Chungking Express (1994) and Fallen Angles (1995).

Bottom-Line: It really comes down to what you want from a film. This film is going to give you brilliant martial arts action scenes, gorgeous cinematography, excellent sets, and good performances. There's a nice integration of special effects and computer-generated visuals with live actors and real scenery. What you're also going to get is characters lacking any depth or humanity, a plot without real substance, and a corny romance. If you only see films in theaters now and then, you can find a better one. If you like to see most of the interesting new films that come along, this one should certainly be on your list. House of Flying Daggers is in Mandarin with English subtitles. I understand from one Chinese reviewer that the dialog and story are even more ridiculous for Chinese-speaking viewers than those relying on English subtitles.

Recommended:
Yes

Video Occasion: Fit for Friday Evening
Suitability For Children: Suitable for Children Age 13 and Older