Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000)

After years away, famed swordsman Li Mu Bai returns from the Wudan Monastery to fellow martial artist and long-term companion Shu Lien. Both skilled in the spectacular Wudan techniques, the pair have followed a careful and respectful path through the martial world for years; their feelings for each other never acted on until, it seems, now. Li announces that he's putting away his weapon once and for all, perhaps in anticipation for settling down with Shu Lien. He asks her to take his sword - Green Destiny - to Peking while he pays respects to his master's grave. Shu Lien obliges and as directed offers the sword to official Sir Te as custodian. When in the capital, Shu Lien meets Jen (Zhang Ziyi).

Jen is a stubborn Manchurian governor's daughter headed for arranged marriage in Peking. But it's not a destiny she'd care to follow. Since ten she's been been learning martial arts on the sly from outlaw Jade Fox (Cheng Pei-pei), following a manual stolen from the Wudan monastery. Jen harbours romantic notions of life in the martial world, or Giang Hu, and wishes to live as her heroes do in martial arts fiction. She looks up to Li and Shu - especially the latter who she perceives to live an enviable and free existence. And she wants to marry the man she loves - for her is a bachelor bandit from the desert named Lo (Chang Chen). In conversation with Shu Lien, Jen is instead advised to follow through with the marriage and become a dutiful wife. Life in the martial world is none so romantic or idealistic, she says. And as the plot builds, this fact becomes clear as results of Jen's headstrong behaviour, foolish actions and association with Jade Fox help lend weight to Shu Lien's advice.

Working from this, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon packs a gripping little yarn into its two-hour course, integrated with fantastic swordplay throughout. The script is quick to take off - speedy enough to confuse slightly during the opening scenes - but settles down to follow a coherent direction. The relationship between Li and Shu is handled with an impressively reserved touch while an outstanding flashback sequence delivers detail of Jen's affair with Lo. The latter relationship could have benefitted from more coverage on screen however, the contrasts between the two in dress, character and movement being engaing to watch in what little time they have on screen together.

While the story's absorbing, it's coloured all the more through the eye-catching visuals on display. Town scenes paint active urbanscapes, littered with street performers, acrobats and milling crowds in direct contrast to the open deserts, mountains and lush greenery outside city boundaries. Particularly extravagant is a scene set in a forest - Li and Jen face-off standing on a tall trunk of swaying bamboo; the vivid green framing Jen all the more alluring as she falls between the straggly leaves.

That Li and Jen can balance on a single bamboo tree among a forest is part and parcel of the action on offer. Presented matter-of-factly, folks understanding the Wudan techniques can fly, leap, run on water and fight extravagantly. Fight sequences come alive as opponents sprint across rooftops and run across walls, stopping for fast-moving, tightly choreographed bouts of combat. Weaponry is elaborate, and their use all the more so, as battles spin out part direct, part acrobatic. Like the well-crafted bouts of 60s-era Hong Kong wuxia films, the staging of the fights is clear and crisp, set in large open sets, and reveal a respect for capturing the art without comedic asides. While the opening fight may doubtless astound the unitiated, standout is a restaurant fight in which Jen does battle with a horde of attackers; flying, leaping and spinning around the two-storey building, swinging her sword as she casually explains a thing or two to her opponents. The feel of the scene is akin to famed 60s director King Hu's inn battles in terms of setting, effortlessness, lack of on-screen bloodshed and most of all in pitting the female warrior against a horde of men. But unlike Hu's careful space and pace, the staging here is more fluid, more enhanced by wirework and moreover something new that stands firmly on its own terms.

The cast holds up both the action and drama impressively, with Zhang Ziyi particularly engaging to see on screen flipping into warrior mode from her well-groomed public face. Michelle Yeoh boasts a more interesting character to play, and handles it with a pleasing warmth when not displaying her agility. Chow Yun-fat takes the more subdued role of the bunch; a calm character strong with his sword but concealing his emotions. And finally, though her character lacks a fully-explained history, veteran actress Cheng Pei-pei produces a terrific turn, smooth in drama and still great with a sword.

Painted billboard at the Imperial Theatre

Credits:

Directed by Ang Lee
Cinematography by Peter Pau
Starring Chow Yun-fat, Michelle Yeoh, Zhang Ziyi, Cheng Pei-pei and Chang Chen