When we finally meet the Flying Daggers, they seem to be comprised almost entirely of women. Leftist revolutionaries often gain the support of women by giving them positions of authority not granted by the establishment, but the trade-off for the Flying Daggers is that all the women appear faceless and indistinguishable beneath (distinctly Viet Cong?) straw helmets. One even describes herself as “just one of many girls;” only in disguise in the decadent imperial brothel is she able to blossom as a unique flower. If the Chinese powers-that-be determine that Zhang’s film is saying that China is no better under the Communists than it was under the emperor, he might find himself banned from making movies again.
In big budget American films, “causes” tend to be bad, while personal loyalty is where our sympathies lie. Hollywood action heroes believe in nothing until someone they know dies or is kidnapped. Jin comes to represent loyalty, as he genuinely falls in love with Mei and even urges her to run away with him from both sides. If Zhang’s earlier films are about individuals making specific choices, “Flying Daggers” creates characters who are the complete victims of machine-like ideologies that have no regard for the individual. The inevitable logic of their struggle causes Jin to kill his own men, friends to turn on one another, and asks Mei to kill someone she loves. Now that’s drama.
Finished December 10th, 2004
Copyright © 2004 Friday & Saturday Night
Page one of "House of Flying Daggers." Back to home.