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Review
by Kozo: |
Zhang Yimou's Hero could be viewed as a disappointment.
Given the international success of Crouching Tiger
Hidden Dragon, anything that Hero aspires
to will be measured by the yardstick of Ang Lee's Oscar-winning
epic. The comparison is understandable, but also unfair.
CTHD was a martial arts epic infused with populist
emotions; despite whatever epic grandeur the film conjured,
it was essentially about people who couldn't express
themselves properly. Hero does have its share
of emotional baggage, but it's subjugated to the ultimate
"message" delivered by Zhang and company.
Also, Hero's martial arts are contemplative and
without explicit tension, and—unlike CTHD—seem
soley intended to convey emotional states or thematic
metaphor. This is not a movie in which to get ripped
and start yelling at the screen. Stripped to its core, Hero is essentially an art film.
Jet Li plays Nameless,
a low-level official in the Qin Kingdom, who arrives
at the palace of Ying Zheng (Chen Dao-Ming), the King
of Qin. He bears some truly rare gifts: the weapons
of Broken Sword (Tony Leung Chiu-Wai), Flying Snow (Maggie
Cheung) and Sky (Donnie Yen), three assassins wanted
for conspiracy to assassinate the King. China is currently
a tangle of warring states, and Ying Zheng desires to
conquer the entire country and establish himself as
the sole emperor of China. Not surprisingly, that sort
of attitude will make you enemies, which is why the
King has massive bounties on anyone daring or skilled
enough to make an attempt on his life. Nameless has
arrived at the palace to claim the rewards, and at the
King's entreaty, tells the story of how he was able
to subdue the famed assassins.
However, his tale may
not be entirely true. Thanks to Rashomon-like
storytelling, we learn that Nameless' version of events
could be colored by hidden motives. The King posits
his own version of events, and chooses to implicate
Nameless as a possible conspirator to his assassination.
That version is in turn refuted by another version of
the tale, and so on and so forth, with numerous flashbacks
and supposed versions of the events represented through
the glorious cinematography of Christopher Doyle. Different
versions of the events are highlighted by specific color
tones; red designates a more passionate accounting,
while blue highlights a version colored by personal
loss and sadness. Green, white and yellow come into
play too, though to assign meanings and motifs to each
and every color scheme would border on presumptuous
and didactic. If anything, the different colors work
as an effective narrative device that separates the
various versions of the tale.
On a technical level, Hero is a masterpiece. The costumes, production
design, cinematography and martial arts choreography
are all award-worthy. Most martial arts fans will be
pleased with the work of choreographers Ching Siu-Tung
and Stephen Tung Wai, and there are certainly a lot
of the scenes to satiate those jonesing for cool swordplay
action and fluid choreography. Donnie Yen and Jet Li
have a well-staged initial bout, but there are also
impressive FX-enhanced shots of our heroes (?) fending
off volleys of arrows, and a thrilling assault on the
palace as Broken Sword and Flying Snow take on a whole
army by themselves. It's epic-level martial arts, which
is infused with a generous portion of eastern philosophy.
The purpose of all of this is not
only to divine the truth behind Nameless' story, but
also to explore this question: what is the true nature
of heroism? Is it the revenge waged by assassins Broken
Sword and Flying Snow, or is it Nameless' attempt to
serve his King? Or is everything twisted and hidden
beneath the film's narrative layers? Zhang Yimou stages
everything like an elaborate costume play. The verbal
jousting between the King and Nameless frames all the
flashbacks and supposed events. Lots of verbalization,
philosophical intuition and acute self-awareness punctuate
the dialogue. The battles these characters wage are
primarily internal; the action and passionate histrionics
are representative rather than expository. This is an
involved art film, but the action and Rashmon-like
storytelling give it a satisfying commercial edge too.
But, when
everything is stripped away, what's left?
On one hand, Hero works very well as a singular
narrative piece which explores and finally answers the
true nature of heroism. However, the fact that the story
is based on history causes a few problems. The film
posits that Ying Zheng's quest to conquer China is as
much about protection as it is about tyranny, a version
of events that not all historians may find agreeable.
Sure, fictional license already exists thanks to the
presence of martial arts superheroes, but is it proper
to simplify the forces of history into a palm-sized
package? The conquering of China's warring states may
have created a unified China, but personal and even
human freedoms weren't entirely respected in the process.
More troubling are the
modern political implications of the film's message.
There is an obvious nod towards the importance of the
greater good. Or, to borrow an axiom from another film
genre, "the needs of the many outweigh the needs
of the few, or the one." That's a fine message,
and Hero does a good job in giving that message
emotional and thematic weight. Still, if one were to
apply that thinking to modern times, some people (like
the Taiwanese) might not be so swayed. And some could
even be incensed by what they might perceive within Hero's dogma.
An argument against the
above is simply that Hero is just a film, and
a contemplative action-adventure film at that. That's
true; Hero can be enjoyed on a cinematic level
for its dramatic storyline, visually spectacular martial
arts, and accomplished thematic depth. The acting is
also excellent, with fine performances from Tony Leung
Chiu-Wai, Maggie Cheung and, most especially, Chen Dao-Ming
as the King. If any actor in the film gives real human
weight to their performance, it's Chen, who embodies
the conflict between personal honor and civic duty in
a truly convincing way. Zhang Ziyi is effective in a
rather minor role as Moon, Broken Sword's disciple,
and Jet Li's opaque performance is fitting. This is
a film that still could satisfy both lovers of art and
commercial filmmaking, though perhaps not as universally
as Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon did.
But the opposite argument
is also true: Hero could turn off a lot of people,
and annoyance at the film's simplified history is rightfully
earned. It would be too much to ask everyone to jettison
their personal and intellectual baggage before seeing
this film, and no one should. The result may be that
two people love or hate the film for entirely different
reasons, and neither party would be incorrect in doing
so. "Good"
art should arguably challenge and affect a viewer in
ways not explicitly seen, and Hero certainly
does. At the same time,
it's hard to give ultimate props to such a divisive
piece of filmmaking. What you get out of Hero
largely depends on what you bring in, but to gain that
experience you have to see the film. And you should
definitely see it. (Kozo 2003) |
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Review
by Kozo: |
In July of 2004, Guangdong Face Home Video released
an "extended cut" of Hero on a Region
0 NTSC DVD. Of course, an extended cut of a film as
Internet-buzzworthy as Hero is sure to get fanboys
to salivate, but a collective "down boy" should
probably be issued before people start hightailing it
to Chinatown to pick up the Guangdong Face DVD. The
big news is that this is not the supposed 120 minute
director's cut that's been discussed on many an Internet
forum. This extended version features approximately
10 minutes of extra footage, though not much of it really
seems new. And to top it all off, the print and transfer
are worse than Hong Kong's Edko disc, and there's even
an annoying "FACE" watermark that appears
in the upper left-hand corner periodically. That's a
couple of strikes right there.
But does this 107 minute version
improve on the widely-seen 98 minute theatrical cut?
Well, not really. Basically, what the "extended"
label comes down to is one or two longer scenes and
a whole lot of extra atmosphere. Certain fight sequences
get padded with extra slow motion, flapping sleeves,
flying leaves, and/or midair acrobatic contortionist
moves. At the end of the fight between Sky (Donnie Yen)
and the Emperor's guard, he gives money to the blind
musician. A few extra shots are inserted, i.e., a few
more sidelong glances, or a couple more slow-motion
shots of Zhang Ziyi or Tony Leung Chiu-Wai on a horse.
Extra dialogue occurs at one or two moments, but none
of those instances is really a major one. Pacing is
made more languid, and less attention is paid to crosscutting
time economy.
Of the extended scenes,
only one really stands out as a major difference. At
one point in the film, Moon (Zhang Ziyi) offers up a
few words to convince Nameless (Jet Li) that the "all
under Heaven" credo of Broken Sword (Tony Leung
Chiu-Wai) is a valuable one. In the theatrical cut,
Moon simply gets on her knees and tells Nameless to
think it over. In the extended version, Moon tries to
off herself twice with her swords, whereupon Nameless
stops her and lectures her about how she's young and
shouldn't die in such a meaningless manner. Woohoo!
Zhang Yimou directs an afterschool special. Flippancy
aside, the scene is nice because it gives the camera
more time to linger on Zhang Ziyi's impressive bone
structure. Actual film improvement via that scene's
inclusion is debatable.
Ultimately, only the most
diehard Hero fan should pick up the extended
version. Fans of Zhang Ziyi might want to check out
the one or two extra shots of her gorgeous face, but
on the whole the experience of this extended Hero is not much different than the original one. Characters
aren't really fleshed out or improved—with the
notable exception of Moon, though that character's main
importance has always seemed to be that she was played
by Zhang Ziyi. Fans of contemplative, existential swordplay
or extended sequences of flapping cloth may go for this
version, but that probably does not include the vast
majority of people who salivate at the thought of director's
cuts. It's still the same movie: a visually arresting
martial arts art film and/or commercial for imperialism
over self-determination, and a flick that will still
piss off people who thought Cradle 2 the Grave "rocked". (Kozo 2004) |
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