House of Flying Daggers

A tribute to Wuxia filmmaking. Or rather Zhang Yimou’s own style of Wuxia film. Wuxia involves swordplay and chivalry. In the early 90’s, Hong Kong was full of it. In a deceptive thriller with numerous twists, Yimou includes eye-catching colour, dance sequences thriving on sounds, breathtaking martial arts, tree-bound fights and even a stirring romance. For many, that would be more than enough but inevitably, there are comparisons with films like his own Hero and Ang Lee’s Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon to consider.

Historical detail sets the scene. The year is 859AD, and the corrupt Tang Dynasty task two Police captains to track down a rebel gang called the House of Flying Daggers. This elusive clan, effective with daggers obviously, fleece the rich to give back to the poor like early Robin Hoods, leaving you assuming the cops are in the pockets of the rich feudal lords. The two Police captains, methodical older man Leo (Andy Lau Tak Wah) and young long-haired partner Jin (Japanese actor Takeshi Kaneshiro) track down a blind concubine, Mei (Zhang Ziyi, who also appeared in Hero), to the local brothel, the Peony Pavilion, since she is thought to be linked to them. Paying Mei a visit, they hatch a plan to use her blindness to their own advantage. Jin will help Mei escape from custody and disguise himself as her accomplice, hoping as they take flight, Mei will relinquish information regarding the Daggers’ whereabouts.

In a film that is wonderfully deceptive, no one is quite who they seem. You get an understanding of why the House of Flying Daggers needs to be shrouded in secrecy but never see them at work. Much of the film instead is taken up with a triangle of love as Mei is fought over by two men who become bitter rivals for her affections.

There are many memorable scenes to feast on, from the fantastic cloak dance movements of ‘The Echo Game’ to the thrilling use of the flying daggers in a field ripe for harvest. Yimou directs with typically flamboyant visual flair and also at times, welcome humour, driving the emotional romantic core of the film to a memorably desperate denouement. Some may feel the numerous plot twists have gone too far by the final reel, and that they’ve been cheated out of a more grandiose finale, but Yimou’s tale of tortured love is still a riveting ride, with brilliant use of colour aesthetics and gravity-defying martial arts that give good grace to the Wuxia genre.

Matt Arnoldi