Review: Where on earth do I start?

Well, this is Zhang Yimou's third period, "action" epic; following on from his art-house, wu xia hybrid 'HERO' and the more commercial, love story with sword-play, 'HOUSE OF FLYING DAGGERS', 'THE CURSE OF THE GOLDEN FLOWER' represents another shift in Zhang's approach. What we get here, according to Zhang, can be summed up by an old Chinese saying "Gold and Jade on the outside, rot and decay on the inside":a (melo)drama charting the final stages of decay, consuming a lavish royal household. Initial reports seemed to carry this metaphor into their critiques, suggesting that 'THE CURSE OF THE GOLDEN FLOWER', another in the increasing line of films that bears the mantle 'China's most expensive production ever!'; presents little of worth, behind its opulent appearance. A seemingly fashionable opinion, but not one that I can agree with.

I'll admit that I was expecting this to be, what is technically known as, a stinker but, I think, I was wrong. Still, I suppose expectations may influence your opinions of this film; much has been made of the reunion between Zhang Yimou and his one-time muse (and alleged lover), Gong Li, but the result only has touches of the simmering, art-house dramas that propelled the pair to stardom. In the same respect, 'THE CURSE OF THE GOLDEN FLOWER' has only a little in common with the two wu xia heavy productions, Zhang has recently delivered. What we get does, undeniably, hint at both of these approaches, but they have been turned on their heads. In the same way that Spinal Tap had amplifiers that went up to eleven: Zhang Yimou has gone "one louder".

With a (comparatively) gigantic budget of US$45million, Zhang is obviously keen to show exactly where the money has gone; from the palace's exterior, the biggest set ever built, to the lush interiors and simply astounding costumes, no expense has been spared. 'THE BANQUET', despite its simply incredible sets, costumes and production design, now seems a little sparse and minimalistic in comparison. Art-director Hu Ting-Xiao dwarfs Emperor Qin's palace, which he created for 'HERO' and injects more colour and ornate, lavish detail than was exhibited in 'HOUSE OF FLYING DAGGERS's Peony Pavilion: he too, has gone "one louder". From the incredible scale of the exterior, to an interior that is simply packed with gold, crystal, glass and a rainbow of colours; such over the top production design hasn't been seen since 'FLASH GORDON' graced the silver screen, like a wild LSD trip.

As for the costumes, Chow Yun-Fat jokes; "I am not that good an actor, the costumes made the character." Whilst this isn't true, Yee Chung-Man, following on from his award winning work on 'PERHAPS LOVE', has created a simply stunning wardrobe for every member of the royal household. In keeping with the extravagance shown throughout the other aspects of the production design, they surpass the legendary opulence of the Tang dynasty. Of particular note are the Dragon and Phoenix robes, inhabited by the Emperor and Empress, respectively, for the film's finale: it took a team of forty people two months to complete the costumes, which are painstakingly embroidered and accessorised by hand. Now, one aspect of the costume design that every single reviewer has mentioned is the amount cleavage that is shown; and, who am I to go against the grain? Indeed, every female character in the film, barring the Imperial Doctor's wife, is showing a lot more skin that one would expect. Is this Yee, embracing the film's slightly deranged aesthetics, or is it Zhang, making a point about the objectification of women in the male dominated feudal society that he is showing? I have no idea, but it certainly adds a little more credence to my 'FLASH GORDON' comparison.

Perhaps the least visually intrusive aspect of 'THE CURSE OF THE GOLDEN FLOWER' is the CGI. The work, done by MPC (who have, most notably, contributed to 'CASINO ROYALE', 'X-MEN : THE LAST STAND', 'CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY' and the 'HARRY POTTER' films), is the best that I have seen in any Chinese production. In contrast to the other contributors, their input is subtle; serving only to enhance the more epic crowd / battle sequences, within the royal palace, and adding the final touches to Ching Sui-Tung's finely choreographed action sequences. The scope of the film's final, epic conflict may be described as ridiculous, but the work of MPC is inconspicuous.

"Gold and Jade on the outside, rot and decay on the inside."

Having already digested the film's synopsis and a description its visual extravagance, you're probably wondering how they sit together. Well, in my opinion, it works; as the scope and scale of the film builds to a climatic conclusion, Zhang's narrative spirals to a suitably dramatic peak that holds its own, alongside. The "rot and decay" of the royal house is already in full swing as the story begins but, as we learn about the motives, agendas and secrets that dominate the lives of its characters, drama gives way to melodrama as truths rise to the surface and the family implodes in tragedy. It may sound as if I'm criticising this film but, believe me, I'm not. Despite the occasionally outlandish qualities of every aspect of the film, as I've already said, it works. The characters are not as complex as those who usually inhabit Zhang's films but, with the Chrysanthemum Festival swiftly being established as an ideal narrative boiling-point, the simmering atmosphere builds and builds as things get 'turned up to eleven': the secrets become bigger and the impact of the truth grows, until it finally boils over. Zhang claims to be analysing the corruption and mendacity which lay beneath the ostentatious surface of feudal China, denying that he is making any kind of comment about contemporary China.


The actors that have been chosen to portray this family are, suitably, cinematic royalty. Chow Yun-Fat, making his first Chinese film in over five years, is an imposing and imperious figure, delivering both the external gravitas and inner turmoil of the Emperor on screen. It's good to see him back. After a similar absence, and a full eleven years since her last collaboration with Zhang Yimou, it's also good to see Gong Li back. For Gong, the role of the Empress, a tragic victim, is one that she inhabits comfortably (if that's not a contradiction). As the film's central character, the Empress, in Gong's hands, evokes sympathy on one hand but, ultimately, her fight-back shows that she can turn the screw, just as well as the Emperor. The prince of Taiwanese pop music, Jay Chou, slots nicely into the role of Prince Jai, easily surpassing my expectations of him. Perhaps the casting of a new-comer (this is only his second role) was a masterstroke; the combination of his youthful confidence and his own insecurities as a singer who is trying to re-invent himself as an actor, parallels Prince Jai's physical strength and his conflicting loyalties. Lau Yip, Crown Prince Wan, continues to build upon his impressive body of work, evoking empathy depite his short-comings. A special mention should go to Li Man, who plays Wan's love interest and daughter to the Imperial Doctor, Chan. In a debut performance, she shines; delicately evoking the youthful naivety of a young woman in love yet, as the film progresses, complimenting the Empress' own tragedy with suitable intensity.

The action sequences in 'THE CURSE OF THE GOLDEN FLOWER' are suitably grand, with only a single one-on-one sequence; a father-son bonding exercise between a seated Emperor (emphasising his superiority of station and power) and a youthfully athletic Prince Jai. Perhaps this choice has as much to do with the cast; 'HERO' and 'HOUSE OF FLYING DAGGERS' both had casts who were more than comfortable performing martial arts, whilst Chow Yun-Fat is the only cast member with a pedigree in action cinema. Never the less, Ching Sui-Tung's contributions are of the quality that you would expect and live up to the grand scale, dictated by their surroundings; ensemble affairs that culminate in a huge battle which, despite its exorbitance, is bloody impressive. Most impressive though, are the scenes involving the Emperor's ninja-like assassins, who swing and slice their way across the scene in a way the harks back to Ching's own, classic 'DUEL TO THE DEATH'.

When all is said and done, perhaps because Zhang has gone "one louder" in every way, 'THE CURSE OF THE GOLDEN FLOWER' is an entertaining spectacle. A quite remarkable production, which dazzles the senses and ramps up its emotional intensity in a way that could leave you speechless or seething. Personally, I enjoyed seeing just what happens, when you turn your film up to eleven...