Poetic Film Review: House of Flying Daggers (2004)

In halls of silver screen, a tale unfolds,
Of love and strife, within a land of old.
In Tang Dynasty's waning days, a fight,
Erupts in secret societies taking flight.

The House of Flying Daggers, a name so bright,
A leader shrouded, in mystery and light.
Two officers, Leo and Jin, pursue the quest,
To capture Mei, the dancer, blind, and blessed.

Through forests green, a dance unfolds,
Of action, passion, and a love foretold.
The camera's eye, a work of art,
Captures beauty, with a stroke of heart.

The colors dance, a symphony of hues,
A CGI masterpiece, in shades of blues.
The music swells, a soundtrack divine,
A Umabayashi creation, so sublime.

Yimou's direction, a stage so grand,
The action scenes, a choreographer's hand.
The acting, superb, a cast of stars,
Zhang Ziyi, Lau, and Kaneshiro, afar.

Yet, beneath the surface, a tale unfolds,
Of shallow depths, a story untold.
A convoluted plot, characters so flat,
A disappointment, when compared to Yimou's past.

Despite the flaws, a beauty still remains,
A feast for the eyes, a cinematic gain.
For in the House of Flying Daggers' hall,
A spectacle of art, stands tall.

(Note: The review in its original form can be read here.)

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