Review

Review Date: 19-December-04
Spoiler Rating: High
Juju Judgment: Just OK

House of Flying Daggers (2004)

At first glance, "House of Flying Daggers" appears to be a classic love story: boy rescues girl, boy falls for girl, boy's secret strains their trust, girl's past threatens their future, and they move inevitably toward some blazing, cataclysmic ending. But there are other influences at work here, other narrative and cinematic conventions that seem (to a western sensibility, anyway) to be competing for attention with the more traditional elements of the tale. Directed by Zhang Yimou, whose "Hero" was a worthy hit this summer, "House of Flying Daggers" never gels into a cohesive whole. It contains moments of beauty and excitement, but doesn't have the power to satisfy.

Zhang Ziyi stars as the central character, Mei, who is introduced as a blind prostitute newly arrived in the imperial city circa 850 A.D. Her appearance sparks the interest of the local guardsmen, who suspect her of being a member of the underground rebel group known as the House of Flying Daggers. Hatching a devious plan, playboy soldier Jin (the gorgeous Takeshi Kaneshiro) and his reserved partner Leo (Andy Lau) arrest Mei and then stage her rescue, hoping she will lead them to the House's leader on her flight to safety. As she travels through the countryside with Jin as her self-appointed protector and Leo secretly on her tail, each struggles with old loyalties and new emotions — pausing along the way, of course, to kick massive butt in spectacular fight scenes. By the time they reach their destination, they have become so embroiled in a web of deceit and passion that no one ends up with what they bargained for.

The director's trademark fascination with light and color is on full display, although "House of Flying Daggers" is as much an aural experience as a visual one. (This should have the Oscar for sound pretty much sewed up.) But, unlike "Hero," the foundation of the movie is too weak to support all the eye candy and special effects, which end up feeling like filler. This is because the relationships at the heart of the film serve too many masters. The old-fashioned, romantic part of the story mutates into a con game of shifting identities, which in turn morphs into a triangle of jealousy and mortal combat. A reason to care for Mei and Jin, other than their beauty, is never fully established, since they're changeable and fail to convey a sense of right or wrong. (Particularly in her case: who are the House of Flying Daggers? Are they the good guys?) The characters are most engaging when Mei is a damsel in distress — blind, persecuted, in need of a friend and champion — but even then it's hard to pity her as she takes on whole battalions of soldiers, unarmed and apparently without the advantage of sight, and generally comes out on top.

Throughout the picture the simple motif gives way to the more elaborate one, the content of the story to the means of its telling. (And Zhang seems confused by what he has wrought, offering not one, but two dance scenes at the beginning and not one, but two death scenes at the end.) The movie starts out like a sweeping saga involving the fate of a nation and the power of love, but degenerates into a middling tale of unimportant people who look really good while killing each other.

Copyright © 2004 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.