I don't like Hou Hsiao-Hsien much. He's not a very well known director, but those who do know him often praise him as if he were Christ risen on Earth for the second time. It gets very out of hand. I personally liked two of his earlier films, Dust in the Wind and City of Sadness, but found them rather flawed. The other films I've seen of his, A Time to Live and a Time to Die, The Puppetmaster, Good Men Good Women, and Goodbye South Goodbye, are profoundly flawed with only a little worth each. I wasn't too excited to see Flowers from Shanghai, but its gotten such continuous praise, even from those who had seen only it from Hou, that I decided to give it a chance. I'm happy I did. Very happy, indeed.
I had dismissed the burgeoning camera movements in Goodbye South Goodbye as a phony advance in Hou's style. I'm glad I was wrong. In Flowers of Shanghai, Hou effectively pans his camera back and forth and around in spirals in every single shot (and, of course, "shot" in Hou Hsiao-Hsien's vocabulary is a synonym of "scene;" most shots last a very long time). The cinematography, too, is a lot better than it has been (although he has plenty of beautiful shots in his other films, as well). The film seems tinted with gold, and beautiful reds take up most of the space in each frame, until a beautiful blotch of yellow or blue arrives. Mixed with that slowly panning camera (sometimes it's a bit reminiscent of Tarkovsky's shots), that makes for pure sensuousness. It can be simply orgasmic at times. The mise-en-scene is also fabulous. The film takes place in a Shanghai brothel (the "flowers" of the title are the prostitutes), and every inch of the each set is decorated perfectly. And aurally, man, the subtle music is just powerful.
It's all so damn beautiful that I kind of ignored what was happening with the characters on screen. It's so damn beautiful that it's rather easy to forget that there are people acting here; their movements and actions are so elegant (and their language sounds so beautiful) that they might as well be thought of as objects, not people. When I finally started to pay more attention to the plot and the characters, it seemed a bit banal. The story revolves around the prostitutes and their frequent customers. The film says nothing new about the subject, and it comes off a bit trite. I'm hoping that I just didn't follow it well enough, that, if I were to buy the DVD and watch it again, I would feel the emotions more. However, I don't believe that that's true. Although his fanatics would fiecely deny it, Hou has never done very well in expressing emotions in his films. Dust in the Wind and City of Sadness are the best in that respect, but take the cheap melodramatics of A Time to Live a Time to Die in comparison. Or take The Puppetmaster: its cinematography is rather boring, and the film comes off as extremely dull. Luckily, I appreciate direction and visual splendor much more than a good story. If I wanted a good story, books would probably be a better medium. Flowers of Shanghai gets a 9/10 from me. I hope that Hou evolves ever more in the future. His style seems perfected in this film (perhaps he should even scrap his signature style and reinvent himself; just a suggestion). Now he needs some substance. Hopefully he'll work again with Wu Nien-Jen, who wrote his Dust in the Wind and City of Sadness, his most substantial films (he also wrote The Puppetmaster, though). I just saw Wu's own directorial debut, Dou-San, this past weekend and it had an emotionally devastating script. I'll cross my fingers!
I had dismissed the burgeoning camera movements in Goodbye South Goodbye as a phony advance in Hou's style. I'm glad I was wrong. In Flowers of Shanghai, Hou effectively pans his camera back and forth and around in spirals in every single shot (and, of course, "shot" in Hou Hsiao-Hsien's vocabulary is a synonym of "scene;" most shots last a very long time). The cinematography, too, is a lot better than it has been (although he has plenty of beautiful shots in his other films, as well). The film seems tinted with gold, and beautiful reds take up most of the space in each frame, until a beautiful blotch of yellow or blue arrives. Mixed with that slowly panning camera (sometimes it's a bit reminiscent of Tarkovsky's shots), that makes for pure sensuousness. It can be simply orgasmic at times. The mise-en-scene is also fabulous. The film takes place in a Shanghai brothel (the "flowers" of the title are the prostitutes), and every inch of the each set is decorated perfectly. And aurally, man, the subtle music is just powerful.
It's all so damn beautiful that I kind of ignored what was happening with the characters on screen. It's so damn beautiful that it's rather easy to forget that there are people acting here; their movements and actions are so elegant (and their language sounds so beautiful) that they might as well be thought of as objects, not people. When I finally started to pay more attention to the plot and the characters, it seemed a bit banal. The story revolves around the prostitutes and their frequent customers. The film says nothing new about the subject, and it comes off a bit trite. I'm hoping that I just didn't follow it well enough, that, if I were to buy the DVD and watch it again, I would feel the emotions more. However, I don't believe that that's true. Although his fanatics would fiecely deny it, Hou has never done very well in expressing emotions in his films. Dust in the Wind and City of Sadness are the best in that respect, but take the cheap melodramatics of A Time to Live a Time to Die in comparison. Or take The Puppetmaster: its cinematography is rather boring, and the film comes off as extremely dull. Luckily, I appreciate direction and visual splendor much more than a good story. If I wanted a good story, books would probably be a better medium. Flowers of Shanghai gets a 9/10 from me. I hope that Hou evolves ever more in the future. His style seems perfected in this film (perhaps he should even scrap his signature style and reinvent himself; just a suggestion). Now he needs some substance. Hopefully he'll work again with Wu Nien-Jen, who wrote his Dust in the Wind and City of Sadness, his most substantial films (he also wrote The Puppetmaster, though). I just saw Wu's own directorial debut, Dou-San, this past weekend and it had an emotionally devastating script. I'll cross my fingers!