Kung Fu and feminism? Enter the 'Dragon'

Golden brocade costumes, magical fighting, gorgeous scenery, and impossible love: Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon has it all. A truly epic movie, it appeals to the romantics in the crowd as well as to those who crave a good fight scene, and still manages to elicit a few laughs. Kung Fu genre fanatics might say that there's nothing in this film that couldn't be found in Fists of Legend or The Martial Monks of Shaolin Temple. While I'm no Kung Fu movie expert, I would say that this one's got some elements that are noticeably absent from the few Kung Fu movies I have seen: good acting and writing and, probably most importantly, top-notch production. The subtitles actually read as though written by a native English speaker. At any rate, it appears that Ang Lee did not intend to outdo the masters of the martial-arts cinema, but rather wanted to pay homage to the genre while making it accessible to a wider U.S. audience.

COURTESY SONY PICTURES CLASSICS Zhang Zi Yi doesn't whup ass like Bruce Lee. She whups ass like Susan B. Anthony.

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon tracks the loyalties and passions of a small group of Kung Fu warriors in an indeterminately old China. When Li Mu Bai (Chow Yun Fat), an unparalleled warrior, decides to retire, he places the Green Destiny, a legendary, several-hundred-year-old-sword, in the care of his fellow warrior—and the object of his long-time unspoken affection—Yu Shu Lien (Michelle Yeoh). The sword, of course, is stolen, delaying Li Mu Bai's intended retirement and renewing his quest to avenge his master's murder. In the process Li Mu Bai and Yu Shu Lien encounter Jen Yu (Zhang Zi Yi), the willful daughter of the local governor with aspirations to escape her intended future of a respectable and sheltered marriage.

As in Sense and Sensibility and The Ice Storm, Lee masterfully portrays the subtle intricacies of social interactions and the shifting mosaic of loyalties and personal vendettas. The suppressed passion between Li Mu Bai and Yu Shu Lien recalls the one between Hugh Grant and Emma Thompson in Sense and Sensibility. Yeoh gives a highly-charged and well rounded performance. As fanciful and alien the world of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon may be, Yu Shu Lien is a familiar and believable character: a woman both motivated and trapped by her sense of propriety.

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon concentrates on its females in the story line, giving them lots of screen time and plenty of chances to show off their prowess in the martial arts. Yuen Wo Ping, who choreographed the Kung Fu scenes in The Matrix, lends his skills to produce breathtaking fighting with the grace and rhythm of a ballet pas de deux. This is not surprising: both Michelle Yeoh and Zhang Zi Yi originally trained as ballet dancers before turning to the martial arts. A percussive soundtrack accompanies the extended fight sequences as both women bound over rooftops and propel themselves from walls, only to crash together again for some lightning-quick exchanges. I had to catch my breath after watching the first one.

Some Chow Yun Fat fans might be disappointed at the nearly marginal role he plays in the film's plot, and even more so by the paucity of scenes in which he fights. But Lee allows Chow to show off a much wider range of emotions than in the movies like The Replacement Killers, for which he is well known. He's almost startlingly believable as a man who has seen too much bloodshed and wants to hang up his sword.

Unlike many action movies that maintain a near-constant fever pitch, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon has long breaks in the action, allowing for rich characterization and a more sweeping feel. The scenes in the Gobi Desert recall The English Patient. The characters in Crouching Tiger, however, express more fully shared passion through the intense physicality of their combat.

Understandably, people will charge the film with excessive corniness. It's hard to ignore that aspect of the movie—Chow Yun Fat has lines that prove it. But this is the stock and trade of the Kung Fu genre: corny clichés are to be expected. In truth, the movie sweeps the viewer up so completely that Li Mu Bai's platitudes are tasty, edible delicacies. The Kung Fu enthusiast should be pleased with such faithful homage.

Back to A&E...