Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon

As a child, Ang Lee devoured the popular, time-honored wuxia novels of China — fiction combining themes of loyalty, honor, and chivalry with lots of page-turning swordplay and adventure. Hong Kong action cinema has been decidedly wuxia-influenced, which may be why native or Western fans of Hong Kong “flying swordsmen” movies may walk away from Lee’s Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon — his tribute to the books and movies that fed his childhood imagination — a little underwhelmed, as opposed to many American critics, who seem overwhelmed. The movie is good, sometimes very good, but I suspect it’s a masterpiece only for those who haven’t seen all the earlier masterpieces that equal or surpass it.

I’m glad Crouching Tiger is here, though. For one thing, it’s going to introduce a lot of people who wouldn’t have seen Hard Boiled or Supercop to the undeniable star power of Chow Yun-Fat and Michelle Yeoh (both of whom have been ill-served in their forays into Yankee films). And if you’ve seen these giants in other films, you can’t help but get buzzed watching them act together for the first time, doing what they do best, and seeing it all on the massive wide screen, immaculately shot by Peter Pau, and not dubbed into hamfisted English. It’s a good way to ease newbies into the charms of Chow and Yeoh, and the gravity-defying stuntwork of Yuen Wo-Ping (The Matrix) — Hong Kong Cinema 101.

The story is simple and classical, based (by screenwriters Wang Hui-Ling, James Schamus, and Tsai Kuo Jung) on a wuxia novel by Wang Du Lu. Master Li Mu Bai (Chow), a retired warrior, pays a visit to a nobleman friend to give him a sword — not just any sword, but a sword that can apparently cut through anything, and has earned itself the name “Green Destiny.” Mu Bai wants to leave his sword behind along with his violent past. But then the sword is stolen, and Mu Bai joins forces with old friend and unrequited love Yu Shu Lien (Yeoh) to get it back. Western minds may see Freudian meaning in this quest, but the code of this movie holds that the sword simply belongs to the man to whom it was given. Further, Mu Bai believes the thief is the legendary Jade Fox (Cheng Pei-pei), who killed his master.

A seeming subplot character who takes center stage for a while is Jen Yu (Zhang Ziyi), a bored teenager due to be married to a (probably) boring nobleman. Jen looks at the exciting Shu Lien and wants the warrior woman’s freedom of movement, the lethal skills that might set her equal to men (or superior to them). She flashes back to an intoxicating time spent with a “barbarian” known as Dark Cloud (Chang Chen) — it’s good to see that teenage girls’ fantasies are so consistent as to cross cultural and temporal barriers.

The high-flying action sequences have gotten a lot of ink, but again, if you’ve seen earlier works like John Woo’s Last Hurrah for Chivalry (1978) or Ronny Yu’s The Bride with White Hair (1993), there’s not a lot here to boggle your eyes or mind. If you haven’t, well, have fun. Some of the soaring and jumping bits are impressive; some are a little too obviously wire work. At the very least, it’s refreshing to sit in an American theater and watch action sequences that strive for lyrical beauty more than routine button-pushing excitement; and it is, as always, a deep pleasure when the camera simply stands back and lets Chow Yun-Fat and Michelle Yeoh show their stuff (capably matched by young Zhang Ziyi, who’s already gotten nibbles from Hollywood). Ang Lee has done a smooth and sincere job here, bringing a sample of Hong Kong magic to art-house patrons accustomed to the likes of Billy Elliot, but don’t go to Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon expecting a cross between Gone with the Wind and The Seven Samurai. It’s well-done, and I suppose that’s going to have to be good enough.

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