Cast: Jet Li, Tony Leung, Maggie Cheung, Zhang Ziyi, Donnie Yen, Chen Daoming
Director: Zhang Yimou
Producers: Bill Kong, Zhang Yimou, Quentin Tarantino
Screenplay: Li Feng, Wang Bin, Zhang Yimou
Cinematography: Christopher Doyle
Music: Tan Dun
U.S. Distributor: Miramax Films
In Mandarin with subtitles
Hero represents Chinese director Zhang Yimou's first foray into the martial arts/action genre. While there are aspects of the film that recall Ang Lee's Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (the movie that brought "wire-fu" Asian cinema to mainstream Western audiences), such a comparison is in many ways too facile. In fact, Hero actually has more in common with the work of Japanese master director Akira Kurosawa than with Crouching Tiger. This is an amazingly stylish and vivid motion picture, where images move the story forward more forcefully than the traditional methods of exposition, dialogue, and character development. If there's a drawback, it's that the plot is trite. Hero is an exemplary example of visual poetry. The narrative is clearly of secondary concern.
Hero is not as mainstream as Crouching Tiger (if the earlier movie could have been considered "mainstream") - it has a languid pace, and, even though there are plenty of martial arts confrontations, it doesn't feel like there's a lot of action. The fight sequences are of the surreal variety, with amazing, gravity-defying moves (such as flying and walking on water) and almost no blood. In this film, when characters are stabbed, they die but don't bleed. It's a conceit that has as much to do with maintaining the film's strict adherence to color schemes as it does to avoiding copious gore.
Hero takes place in feudal China, before the warring kingdoms were united into a single country. Jet Li plays the Nameless warrior, who has been brought before the King of Qin (Chen Daoming) to receive a reward for heroic deeds. The Nameless warrior has killed three assassins who sought the king's life: Long Sky (Donnie Yen), Broken Sword (Tony Leung), and Flying Snow (Maggie Cheung). At the king's behest, the Nameless warrior tells how he killed the assassins, but the king challenges his tales and offers a different interpretation.
Hero's long-delayed release into the North American market is primarily the fault of Miramax Films, who bought the rights, then decided to bury the movie. Hero may never have seen the light of day had Quentin Tarantino not come forward to champion its release. For his efforts, Tarantino has received a producer credit on the Miramax-released version. And, thankfully, Miramax has not done anything silly like dubbing the dialogue.
From the Rashomon-influenced method of relating events from multiple perspectives to the dream-like state of the martial arts battles, the spirit of Kurosawa presides over Zhang's approach to the material. And this is the first movie by the director since Raise the Red Lantern to impart such a great importance to color. There are four distinct schemes: red, blue, white, and green. In each, all garments and many of the set pieces match the appropriate hue. At times, filters are used to enhance the colors. Wind is also a noticeable element - from the breezes that blow around the diaphanous draperies and curtains to the whirlwind used by Flying Snow to knock aside her opponents.
Those whose cinematic preference is for a more traditional form of movie-making (a group in which my left brain-dominated thinking makes me a member) may find that parts of Hero stretch credulity to the breaking point. Of course, believability is the last thing that's intended to be brought into a discussion of this movie. Hero is about motion, images, and colors. It's a series of moving paintings that, when strung together, assemble a basic story. Character development is almost non-existent, acting is muted (strange, considering the strength of performances Zhang has often coaxed from his casts), and the film's attempt at forging an emotional bond between the audience and its protagonists falls short of the goal. No death left an impression upon me. Hero is visually deep, but emotionally shallow.
Hero's theme of self-sacrifice being necessary to serve the greater good isn't revolutionary, but it is presented with enough force that we don't dismiss it lightly. There's a universality to this that allows Western audiences to relate to it with as much immediacy as Asian audiences. (After all, wasn't that one of the cornerstones of The Passion of the Christ?) But few who see Hero will be there for its thematic content. They will be there to enjoy the spectacle of wire-fu battles, of which there are many, and to appreciate the way in which Zhang Yimou and his cinematographer, Christopher Doyle, have chosen to populate their canvas. I'm not an expert on martial arts films, and I didn't think this one matches Crouching Tiger for energy, inventiveness, or grandeur, but I am nevertheless glad that Miramax has finally decided to release it. It is unquestionably worth a look.
© 2004 James Berardinelli