Curse of the Golden Flower (Limited Edition) (Korea Version) DVD Region 3

Chow Yun-Fat is the patriarch of the film's messed-up family unit, only he isn't just an upper class snob with gobs of dough like in Cao Yu's original play. Chow is Emperor Ping, a powerful man who's built a successful empire, and he apparently aims to enjoy it. Aside from lording over thousands of subjects, the Emperor's palace is gold-encrusted and ultra-opulent, a deliberate and even disgusting monument to one man's obsession with status and appearance. When the man first appears, he summons his second son, Prince Jie (Jay Chou), to his quarters for an impromptu duel, whereupon he tells the kid that he's given him everything that he has, and that he must never, ever try to take more without permission. The message is obvious: don't turn on me, kid, or suffer the consequences. Jie promises that he won't, but by the end of the film, circumstances have arisen that cause Jie to go back on his word. But the Emperor isn't lying to Jie: the kid is in for a tough lesson. So is the audience.

Things kick off with the revelation that the Emperor's second wife, Empress Phoenix (Gong Li in various cleavage-enhancing outfits), is being slowly killed. The Imperial Physician (Ni Dahong) has instructed his daughter, Chen (Li Man, also amping her décolletage), to spike the Empress' hourly anemia medicine with a poison that will slowly turn her into a half-wit. The chief mastermind to this plot is of course the Emperor, who's trying to off his buxom wife presumably because of her long-standing affair with with the Emperor's number one son Xiang (Liu Ye), who is thankfully not the Empress' biological son. In turn, the Empress would like Xiang's help to overthrow the Emperor, but he's a sniveling, useless sort, meaning he lacks the guts to go through with a coup.

However, that's not the only rotten thing happening in the state of Denmark; Xiang is also carrying on an affair with Chen, much to the Empress' disapproval, and it's unknown if the Emperor even knows about it. The Emperor has his own secrets involving his first wife, and youngest son Cheng (Qin Junjie) mopes around looking annoyed because everyone is too busy scheming and plotting to pay him any mind. The lone stalwart person in all of this is Jie, who seemingly desires family harmony. However, the deal breaker for Jie may be that his father is deliberately attempting to turn his mother into a vegetable. The Empress is all-too-aware of this leverage, but the clock is ticking on her remaining sanity. With the Chongyang festival drawing close, will she be able to entice Jie to pull off the planned coup against her crappy husband? And will the Emperor catch on before its too late?

Curse of the Golden Flower is chockfull of deadly grudges and overwrought personal politics. This is incredibly melodramatic stuff; incest, murder, patricide, and other Korean drama-worthy plotlines are offered up in the film's juicy screenplay, which sometimes seems to be as trashy as it is classy. The overdone histrionics from the cast only add to the fun, with three of the four leads overacting admirably (the lone exception is Jay Chou, who's a bit out of his depth here). Gong Li strides around the palace in an incredibly haughty manner, sweating wildly and fixing everyone who crosses her path with withering gazes. Chow Yun-Fat is powerfully smug as the Emperor, and uses his tremendous screen charisma to ooze smarm instead of the patented Chow Yun-Fat charm. Liu Ye perfectly embodies Xiang with a suitably over-the-top display of pathetic weakness. The production design and Shigeru Umebayashi's bombastic score are the icing on the cake of this exercise in excess. Curse of the Golden Flower could be the year's most overdone and potentially alienating motion picture. Everything is too beautiful and too perfectly arranged, which is usually where we knock a film for being too manufactured.

Not this time. It's true that the look and feel of Curse of the Golden Flower is manufactured to egregious effect, but there are actually reasons behind all the insane artifice. The Ancient Chinese glitz and glamour traps some characters; the Empress may know that she's being poisoned, but her excessive amount of attendants, the exact timekeeping (a servant will nasally intone the time every hour), and the Emperor's steel grip on the household serve to suffocate her, making deception and a planned coup her only way out. The artificial beauty is also a part of the Emperor's perfectly arranged show of power. His family and empire are his to command, and they're all supposed to be as lovely and docile as the inanimate finery that makes up his overly ornate surroundings. But it's all plainly artificial, both to the audience and to the characters in the film. Beneath the beauty lies plenty of ugliness, and the Emperor behaves in a cunning, villainous way because he's trying to preserve the artificially created beauty of his lofty position.

The Emperor's values are also hypocritical. When gathering his family for the Chongyang Festival, he stresses such values as filial piety, honor, and righteousness, though it's plainly obvious from minute one that these fine values are not practiced by most of the film's principal characters. That these characters are the ones in power gives Curse of the Golden Flower a suspicious, anti-Hero feel, i.e. this may not be a pro-China movie. Unlike the ultra-sympathetic King portrayed in Zhang Yimou's acclaimed 2002 film, Emperor Ping is conniving and ruthless, and seems to be behaving so terribly becauses he's corrupt and generally selfish lout who only talks a good game. In truth, he abuses his power by poisoning his wife, and then shames her into accepting the poison by pretending to show public concern. During these scenes it's easy to feel some sympathy for the put-upon Empress because she's in such a terrible position, drinking poison hourly despite the knowledge that it's really killing her.

Still, the Empress has, by definition, violated the family's values by engaging in adultery and nominal incest, meaning her suffering may not be entirely unjust. There's more afoot in Curse of the Golden Flower than a simple tale of "bad man forces family to succumb to his will until the family rightfully seeks revenge." In this film, everyone's a sinner and everyone suffers - even the Emperor, whose coolly calculating evil eventually backfires in a way that even he doesn't expect. Chow Yun-Fat gives his character a powerful confidence, but when things spin beyond his expectation, his veneer is momentarily shattered. In those moments, the Emperor becomes a tragic, and even sympathetic figure. He'll still do what he has to do, i.e. kill those who have betrayed him, but his character reveals levels not fully verbalized in the script. Despite the overt trashiness of the film's "Dallas in the Palace" storyline, there's a complexity of theme and character going on that proves fascinating.

However, the above is simply one way of looking at the Curse of the Golden Flower, which proffers extreme melodrama, sumptuous art direction, multi-layered themes, and your requisite martial arts all packaged in smashing gold lamé wrapping paper. Ching Siu-Tung manages some fine action set pieces, including an exciting ambush by the Emperor's assassins, plus the slightly unconvincing finale, which finds Jay Chou mixing it up against scores of foes while carrying a spear that may be heavier than he is. But the action is only one part of the piñata that is Curse of the Golden Flower. There's lots of stuff going on here, allowing the film to be enjoyed on numerous levels. As a trashy melodrama, the film delivers its share of campy soap opera goodness, and as an opulent epic, there's much to gawk at. But there's also well-played drama and complex themes mixed into the epic action and artifice. Cao Yu's Thunderstorm is renowned as a classic of Chinese melodrama, and Zhang Yimou and company have given the play a worthy twist with Curse of the Golden Flower.

That said, the extreme gaudiness of the whole affair may turn off more than a few audiences, and after The Banquet, a backlash against these sorts of costume epics may be in full effect. Those who subscribe to the backlash do have a legitimate beef, as Curse of the Golden Flower does exhibit much of the same artificial excess that made The Banquet seem cold and unapproachable. But there's really a lot more going on here, and Zhang Yimou should be given credit for returning to this genre again and again. This is already Zhang's third time around with big-budget martial arts extravagance, and he looks to be changing things up each time he returns, finding new and even worthy stories to tell using the genre's now overly familiar iconography. The results may not always be Hero or Curse of the Golden Flower, but they won't always be House of Flying Daggers either. At this point, he's two out of three, so giving Zhang Yimou license to be excessive again may be more prudent than, say, throwing money at Chen Kaige for a Promise 2. Besides, sometimes excess can be good. This is one of those times.

by Kozo - LoveHKFilm.com

Gong's concerns must have been resolved when she was offered the lead role in this film as she is present in a movie which could find itself open to the very criticism she had made. The film is as opulent an eye candy as you will ever see. Where in Hero and House of Flying Daggers the aesthetic was one designed to beautify the concepts of nobility and sacrifice, here the visuals are the wrapping paper of corruption. The beautiful cinematography and set design are in deliberate contrast to the affairs of the heart that the film concentrates upon, the sins and betrayals of the Emperor and his family. These sins are forced on all because of the iniquities that the Emperor's absolute power is based upon, and the film plays not unlike a Shakespearean tragedy of regal downfall. This interest in the inevitable corruption of power was hinted at in Hero where the King of Qin's necessary absolute power became a kind of curse - witness the Greek chorus of court officials pleading dogmatically "execute him".

In this film, Chow Yun-Fat's conniving evil emperor lives with complete control and a toxic loneliness because of it. Chow rules his family much as he would his army: he demands the Empress takes "medicine" every two hours in order to cure her rebelliousness and he spies on his three sons to anticipate any challenges. In his dictator's eyes, rebellion is everywhere and criticism is treachery; in essence his power exists to ensure he is in control and his control ensures that his power is beyond question. Those who help him are either in the shadows, such as his army of ninja-like assassins, or they live for their usefulness and die if their knowledge becomes a threat to him. For what is a huge role, I feel that Chow does rather play it small and seeks to exude a smug unflustered evil that knows it can't be beaten. As an actor, he is robbed of his prime asset of charm and he rather cedes the limelight to Gong Li. I can't help feeling that he is miscast and not helped by direction that leads him to minimalism in a film which cries out for a performance.

With the attention given over to her, the main joy of this film is watching Gong Li work and revisiting Zhang's complete adoration of her. Gong's acting has always had great range and this has been well illustrated with Zhang's films - her determined peasant wife in Story of Qiu Ju, her doomed performer in Shanghai Triad, and the complicated fourth wife in Raise the Red Lantern. In Curse of the Golden Flower, she plays a victim of the Emperor's fickle attentions who finds herself in a fight for her life as he wishes to crush her individuality. She discovers many of his secrets and hopes to replace his patriarchy with a kinder juster authority. Gong manages a kind of pathetic grace and broken intensity and our compassion for her means that we get lost in her terrible fate regardless of any responsibility she may have for it. She comes to represent the feminine which is held in check by the Emperor's masculine mendacity. Gong is, of course, terrific although she is a little let down by the operatic twists and turns that she brings to light and the film's excess of design comes to mirror the lack of subtlety in plotting. This may be an editing down issue as some of the continuity and pacing hurts the final act of the film which is often over the top in its developments, or lacking a smoothness of momentum. I suspect a director's cut may come later which will deepen some of this exposition much as occurred with Hero.

My main criticism of the film is that its central tension of opulence and depravity undermines what is, after all, a glossy blockbuster. The movie is supposed to be an example of how absolute power corrupts and how the masculine seeks to destroy the feminine, but the film itself seems seduced by its own grandeur and loses its moral bearings and sensitivity at times. It is almost as if Zhang knew he needed to replicate the wuxia epics of before and then got lost in a different enterprise more like the great films he previously made with Gong. I feel that Zhang was attempting to fuse the two strands of his work and realised along the way - perhaps in the editing suite - what his more recent audience would prefer. I am tempted to say that Gong's criticism of Zhang's recent work is one that he has listened too much to and I am entirely happy that Zhang continues to make big epic films without the artistic credibility of his neo-realist pieces, and when this film sits squarely in the role of a blockbuster it is terrific. Ching Siu-Tung's action choreography is even better here than before as the fights enter a level of bloodiness that is his forte, Shigeru Umebayashi's score is both stately and thrilling, and the set design and photography is without compare. Some will despair at the excessive use of CGI in the final battle, and the Matrix-style slowmo does need a rest, but the operatic brilliance of this film is hard to resist. More recent fans of his work will bemoan the excess of artistic intention here, and those criticising Yimou for superficiality will find more evidence of decline as well. For me, an unashamed believer in Zhang's whole back catalogue, Curse of the Golden Flower is fabulous entertainment that reminds the world of Gong Li's brilliance. The film would be more successful if Zhang chose to follow the Del Toro example of keeping his blockbusters and personal pieces separate because he should be confident there is more than enough in either strands of his work to enjoy. Flawed, compromised yet brilliant - if you can't enjoy Zhang's latest work then I fear for you.

DVD
Edko release Curse of the Golden Flower in two editions, and the disc on review here is the normal sell-through edition that is available from Hong Kong. The disc box comes with a dust sleeve with slightly different poster art to the box and the single disc edition features the film presented in 2.35:1 anamorphic widescreen. The transfer is sharp and very clean with high levels of contrast and saturation. This suits the look of the film well and the impossibly vivid look contrasts well with some of the brutality of battle.

I watched the film on my projector and I was very happy with the quality of the image which easily exceeds Edko's shoddy work on House of the Flying Daggers; the only improvement I could imagine would be greater definition, and I imagine that this film may be a thing of wonder on HD. The main feature comes with three surround options, two of which are in the original language. All of the surround tracks are well created in terms of ambient sound and balance between the rear and front speakers. The Cantonese 5.1 track is not the most convincing dub in terms of synching with lip movements and lacks the impact of the other tracks for this reason, and for a relative dullness in the music and effects. The two Mandarin tracks are more impressive and use the dramatic score and plentiful fight effects brilliantly but both don't always follow the dialogue in terms of spatial representation which is not a huge problem as nearly all dialogue is on screen rather than from behind the viewer. Both tracks are powerful, but the DTS track is immense in the battle sequences and succeeds in immersing the audience in the blood and thunder whilst keeping the excellent bass from overpowering the character's words.

Extras
Extras wise this single disc edition is a little light with perfunctory trailers, photo gallery and filmographies. The main extra of interest is the documentary "Secrets Within" which has clearly been made for the US market and consequently is aimed at people whose knowledge of cast and crew may be a passing one and consequently comes over as promotional fluff regardless of Zhang Yimou and cast's comments about the intent behind the film. Chow Yun-Fat comes over as genuinely pleased to be there and even drops hints about fancying Gong Li and the raspy American voiceover tells the viewer what to think during the 20 minutes or so of this featurette. Adequate English subtitles can be chosen for the interviews during this piece which are in Mandarin, but they also appear during the interviews which are in English. The filmographies are disturbingly brief and give equal space to the acting credentials of Gong Li and Jay Chou and any biography is in Chinese.

Overall
Great entertainment that should be allowed to be just that, but a film which is not as successful as Zhang's previous wuxia let alone the transcendent Riding Alone for Thousands of Miles. This disc is a fine budget way to pick the film up before R2 and R1 versions appear later in the year. Not a triumph but still a cause for joy.

by John White - DVD Times