Curse Of The Golden Flower

Waves of soldiers dressed in contrasting black and gold? Gilded corridors finished with crimson? Carpets of bright yellow chrysanthemums? Wow, this can only be a Zhang Yimou flick. Like House Of Flying Daggers, the director’s lavish martial arts extravaganza, this latest fantasy is a swoon-making historical epic seemingly determined to make Marie Antoinette look like a pile of sick.
Set in the later Tang dynasty circa AD928, Curse Of The Golden Flower repopulated a delightfully wicked soap opera. With royal Chinese riff-raff. Gong Li, never more imperious than here, plays an Empress who, ahem, really loves her sons. Chow Yun-Fat is the evil beard-stroking husband who is slowly poisoning her. Little does he know that the three young princes are scheming to overthrow his ridiculously decadent regime.
Pretty soon the torrid goings-on in the palace have spilled out into the wider world. Battles commence, requiring more CGI arrows than the entire LOTR trilogy. Arses are duly kicked in acrobatic style. Hooray for wuxia!
When Zhang Yimou first emerged with the politically minded masterpiece Red Sorghum, he and his Fifth Generation buddies were often accused of peddling oriental whimsy to the west. Curse, his shallowest film yet, makes you think his detractors are right. But it’s just too, too pretty to fight with.