Off a Bridge, Into the Mist

"It must be exciting to be a fighter, to be totally free." 

Stuck in a hotel room out of town, without a laptop and any internet access, I ended  up watching a  documentary on cable entitled The Art of Action: Martial Arts in Motion Picture. Filmed in 2002, the said documentary provided a general overview of the martial arts genre-- tracing its origins and influence  back to the Peking Opera, citing iconic figures and films of note, showcasing clips of classic and modern movies, along with various interviews of directors and artists.

At that time, the genre was at the height of its popularity, it figured prominently in Hollywood movies, and slowly found itself a new audience, one used to the high-octane action and the colorful frenzy offered by MTV. Jacky Chan was on his way into becoming a household name in the West, wire-fu was in vogue and of course,  Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, being one of the most celebrated films from the East, became a frequently discussed topic.

Impressing both critics and audiences worldwide, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, represented the best of Chinese cinema, and therefore it was no surprise that the documentary singled out this movie for its breathtaking images, gravity-defying fight sequences and most of all, its tragic love story. The movie in itself might not have had the same success and recognition it enjoyed in the United States as in its native country, but Ang Lee's first entry into the wuxia genre certainly made quite an impression on the industry and the  general viewing public. Everyone had their own take on the film and basically everyone had their own personal reason for loving [or hating] it. And while Chinese audiences initially shunned the overly romanticized elements of it and treated the martial arts sequences as standard fare for such films, the fact that it took home an Oscar and became an acclaimed box office hit abroad made a lot of people sit up and take notice.

Director Tsui Hark attributed the film's success to its story and how the issues confronting its characters, specifically that of a rebellious teen, remain relevant in contemporary society; Donnie Yen, on the other hand, effusively praised the poetry of specific scenes; critics and film analysts adjudged it to be a prime example of how arthouse cinema successfully crossed over to mainstream; and just about any martial artist/actor/stunt man harped on Yuen Woo-Ping's unparalleled skill in choreographing fight scenes that matched a  film's aesthetic.

"Whatever path you decide to take in this life... be true to yourself."  

There's certainly much to appreciate about this movie, for Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon appealed to everyone's sensibilities, providing a potent mix of action, romance, political intrigue, and social commentary in one beautiful period piece. To some, it's a love story of epic proportions, to others it's a carefully crafted tale about three women's struggle for identity and honor in a male-dominated society steep with stifling conventions and outmoded traditions. Within a decade of its release, numerous interpretations have been made regarding the movie's underlying theme(s), fans and netizens have come up with their own theories, but very few really focused on tying everything up with the movie's ending.

Artistically rendered with care to the very last frame, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon admittedly gives way to a bittersweet ending-- Jen (Zhang Ziyi) tells Lo (Chang Chen) to recall the legend that he told her in the desert about how a faithful heart makes wishes come true. She then asks him to make a wish before slowly falling off the bridge of Wudan, descending into the mist; in calm surrender, in atonement for her sins. It  seemed like a fitting end to a tempestuous maiden who deprived two people of a chance at happiness but speculation soon surfaced as to whether or not the legend in the film held special meaning... was it merely a device inherent to the genre or was there actually a message behind it?

So Jen gracefully disappears into the mist on account of a legend, with the intention to right past misdeeds, leaving the audience wondering about the reason behind her actions and Shu Lien's reminder, "to thine own self be true".

Watching the documentary made me think about this part of the film, particularly when Ang Lee only gave a statement about how it was a dream of his to film a female character drift serenely into the clouds, without so much as a word on what he meant by giving Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon such an ending. I've read quite a few reviews over the past years and have encountered countless musings on the movie's source material, its connection to Eastern philosophy and how characters' names corresponded to the title of the movie, but none of them captured my imagination as Matthew Levine's thought-provoking article in Bright Lights Film Journal-- Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon: The Art Film Hidden Inside the Chop-Socky Flick -- which argued for the presence of strong feminist themes with the fearless postulate that Jen, in all humility, did not only seek redemption by throwing herself over that bridge; she also wished with all heart to be reborn, to be free. When I first read this article, I couldn't believe how much this single line of thought changed the way I viewed this movie. It shifted my attention away from Li Mubai and Shu Lien's love story and permanently drew  my thoughts toward Jen and her dilemma; and there it stayed indefinitely. Five years later, I'd still catch myself thinking about Levine's thesis, others might have reservations about it, but every time I see a Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon clip, I can't help but feel sad for Jen and a part of me would always wonder whether she got her wish.

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Special thanks goes to patrick at http://psdragonfly.livejournal.com/18661.html for the beautiful screencaps that accompany this entry.  

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Sophie's Revenge

After gaining international recognition in Ang Lee's Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon,  Zhang Ziyi has gone on to make projects that consist of critically acclaimed films, box office misfires, and the occasional Hollywood blockbuster, turning in performances that are either truly memorable or downright forgettable. With the face of an angel and a smoldering gaze that underscores a raw sensuality, Zhang Ziyi has had relative success in roles as the femme fatale (The Banquet, House of Flying Daggers) but somehow always appeared inadequate in portraying characters which required a certain level of emotional and intellectual depth (Purple Butterfly, Forever Enthralled, Horsemen). Hers is a body of work that yields itself to mediocrity (Jasmine Women, Memoirs of a Geisha) and yet just when you're about to dismiss her as another pretty face, she'll turn around and surprise you as she did in Wong Kar-Wai's 2046.

The fact that her filmography includes movies like Rush Hour 2 and Princess Racoon only goes to show how  sought-after she's become [having worked with well-known directors], and that regardless of any shortcomings in her acting, what Zhang Ziyi  aims to accomplish is to diversify the roles that she play. 

When I was young, my mother told me a woman in love is foolish but a woman rejected is crazy...

In Sophie's Revenge, Zhang Ziyi in the titular role Sophie, is a kooky cartoonist who was unceremoniously dumped by her surgeon fiancé  Jeff (So Ji-Sub) for actress, Joanna (Fan Bing Bing). Heartbroken and humiliated, this Sophie resorts to braving the cold and clinging on to ledges just to spy on her ex. Tortured by memories and severely defeated after watching the happy couple [yes, stalking will do that to you],  Sophie ends up sulking for days until her friends (Ruby Lin and Yao Chen) intervene and tell her in no uncertain terms to start over by drowning her sorrows in work. Jumping at the chance to publish new material, Sophie decides to exact revenge and make use of her experience as the basis for her "Love Handbook". She then sets this plan in motion by formulating a step-by-step program to win back her fickle ex, implementing steps one and two of her strategy to disastrous results.

 My mother also said, men must choose the right career; and women marry the right guy. What she meant was a woman's job is to find Mr. Right.

Devastated over back-to-back failures, Sophie attends a Halloween party with her friends where she gets rather drunk and disorderly. There, she meets Gordon (Peter Ho), a photographer, whom she discovered that Joanna rejected in order to be with Jeff. In her drunken stupor, she enlists Gordon's help, believing that their combined efforts would increase the odds of orchestrating a break-up. Will Sophie finally get her revenge? Better yet, is Zhang Ziyi even up to the challenge [of doing a romantic comedy]?

Writer-director Jin Yimeng's vision of Sophie's Revenge appears to stem from a patchwork of  popular romantic comedies, drawing its main premise from the Meg Ryan movie Addicted to Love and ripping off key elements in Jean Pierre Jeunet's Amélie.  Touted as China's first contemporary romantic comedy [ergo chick flick], this joint-project from Beijing Perfect World Co. and Korea's CJ Entertainment, along with  Zhang Ziyi's financing, has a production value that could easily rival the best that any country has to offer, with a bright, candy-colored palette [think jellybeans] courtesy of cinematographer Amando Salas and state of the art computer generated effects. It's gorgeously shot with a cast that wears trendy clothes and takes pretty pictures but judging by style and content, Sophie's Revenge has nothing wholly original to offer.

As romantic comedies go, Sophie's Revenge follows a foolproof formula that's designed to delight those in search of shallow, mindless entertainment. It's chic and trendy, furthermore it makes no attempt to hide the fact that it was designed to appeal to a broader audience and should therefore exhibit a fresh, young vibe. So much so, that the film itself is devoid of any cultural identity and pays no homage to any nationality, almost as if it exists in a homogeneous society, oblivious of the long list of well-loved movies that are defined by a specific heritage and/or made more romantic because of a certain locale (i.e. My Big Fat Greek Wedding, When Harry Met Sally, Guess Who's Coming to Dinner, Far and Away, Joy Luck Club, etc). By existing in a vacuum, it kind of loses its heart; and by trying too hard to appear Westernized, it simply doesn't have that spark. This movie doesn't have that ability to create a niche for itself in order to tap into a person's consciousness primarily because the viewer is struck by this strong sense of déjà vu-- such that everything you see in it has already been done before, only it was done better.

It's a perfect example of a movie wherein style got the best of substance as the storyline remained wafer thin and the characters turned out to be no more than broad sketches that evoked little or no empathy. Jin Yimeng's ode to the talented and eccentric woman comes off as as an ode to the severely neurotic, with Sophie being a decade-late, pale and inferior imitation of David E. Kelley's Ally McBeal.  Equipped with a hyperactive imagination, Sophie is gawky and awkward, more so, desperate and superficial as she  doggedly subjects herself to consecutive acts of idiocy. It takes quite a long while for her to even remotely look normal and that, I'm afraid, is severely overshadowed by zany sequences and disturbing hallucinations that would earn anyone entry to the nearest mental institution. As a movie that claims to celebrate the modern  Chinese woman, its female characters seriously lack depth. They're flighty and irrational, and they seem to be used to living a life of excess.

Much of the comedy is lifted from half a dozen other films (Two Weeks Notice, My Best Friend's Wedding, America's Sweethearts to name a few) but lumped together, all the token comic sequences  turned out  unfunny and uninspired. So Ji-Sub barely registers on screen as he struggles to phonetically enunciate his Mandarin lines while the sultry Fan Bing Bing is left to make the best out of an otherwise thankless role. Peter Ho is quite decent but considering that his character is the only one that's sane doesn't make that much of an accomplishment.

You need a psychiatrist.

And what about Zhang Ziyi, you say?

Well, she stumbles, she falls, makes faces and does just about everything in her power to elicit a laugh that  I myself, am embarrassed to watch. While Audrey Tautou's Amélie was full of  childlike wonder, Zhang Ziyi's Sophie was plainly unstable, possibly even mentally deranged. She does not lend herself well to physical comedy as she does to choreographed martial arts sequences so slapstick comedy might not be the right way to demonstrate her versatility as an actress. To be blunt, the girl just  doesn't have what it takes to be funny. Her desire to expand her three expression arsenal which consists of: #1. a come hither stare; #2. a prepare to die glare; and [my personal favorite, which is a lethal combination of the previous two expressions--] #3. the black widow eye (which loosely translates to "I'm horny so you'll die later"), is a goal that fell out of reach when she decided to do a movie without any distracting sharp weapons and fancy costumes. She doesn't have the acting chops to make an unlikeable character likable because her appeal and charisma always came from playing characters who were by nature cold and inaccessible. To go against that without adequate preparation is pure hubris on her part. Here's to waiting for expression #4. 

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