rantings of a beloved film

I love the film House of Flying Daggers. The first time I saw it I was absolutely spellbound. The threads of love, honour, intrigue, and revenge are so immense within this movie's plot, they would be more appropriately described as chords. If there was even one more twist within HFD's plot it would border on the absurd. But, it doesn't challenge the boundaries of the conceivable quite that far. I would even go so far as to argue that the tragedy unveiled at the climax of HFD approaches Shakespearian heights, although that might be pushing it too far. At the very least it rips your heart out and stomps on it for a while.

Aside from the integrity of HFD's plot, it is a sensory explosion of sight and sound. I love the blend of eastern and western influences that are captured within its soundtrack - although I did not find its score as moving as I did when I watched Hero. The wardrobe is intricate and diverse, and the sets are simply stunning. The wide angle shots of the outdoor scenes as the film draws to a close are the most powerful. The vivid colours of the passage of the seasons are juxtaposed with the unfolding of events. Vibrant greens give way to the fall hues of yellow, orange, and red; finally, all is covered in a blanket of white snow. I must also add that the martial artistry in this film was also brilliant. But we have come to expect nothing less from films in this genre. The balance of this film's strengths is what puts it near the top of my list of favorites.