The Curse of the Golden Armor

I just saw 黄金甲 (literally '(Yellow) Gold Armour') and thought I'd get some of my thoughts down while it's still fresh in my mind. If you're planning on watching it (and I wouldn't particularly recommend it), then *SPOILERS AHEAD*. You have been warned.

Firstly a couple of linguistic points. 金 means 'gold', as does 黄金 (literally 'yellow gold'). The distinction arises because apart from 'yellow gold' you can have 'white gold' (白金) which is platinum.

甲 means 'helmet' or 'shell'. It also has the meaning 'first' and is used in grading school-work and so on. In fact, the first four of the 'Ten Heavenly Stems' (甲乙丙丁) are commonly used to denote grades A, B, C and D respectively. I remember getting lots of 乙's and 丙's in my Chinese studies.

As it's a historical epic, 黄金甲 has plenty of suitably archaic dialogue. The Emperor refers to himself as 朕 which is a little like the Royal 'We' in English, and his princes suffix themselves with 臣 meaning 'royal subject'.

Flowery 'Shakespearean' Chinese is hardly the best medium through which to supplement my studies. However, as I'll explain below, there seems to be a serious lack of alternative genres coming from the mainland apart from perhaps derivative melodramas or transparently low-budget police dramas.

One excellent language nugget I did pick up came towards the end of the movie.

'What's the punishment for rebellion against the Emperor?', Chow Yun Fat asks.

'车裂' (literally, 'car tear-apart') replies one of his subjects.

I hit pause and scramble for my dictionary, thinking 'Surely he's not going to rip apart Jay's Honda Accord?'.

Apparently not. 车裂 describes a punishment used in ancient times in which a cart (车) is attached to each of one's four limbs AND one's neck, whereupon they drive off in different directions, dividing (裂) the punishee into five messy chunks. I bet that would cut down on the number of ASBO's back home.

For some reason the movie has been named "The Curse of the Golden Flower" for English-language markets which I don't think makes much sense. The 'Golden Flower' plays only a tangential symbolic role in the movie, and can't fairly be described as cursed as such.

The invaluable Internet Movie Database further gives the title as "The City of the Golden Armor". This is slightly better. The Imperial Compound does indeed have lots of people in lots of Golden Armor. It's hardly the city's defining feature though.

More accurate (if less marketable) names might include "The City of Chrysanthemum Flowers", or perhaps "The Golden Armor Which Lacks Any Real Relevance to the Storyline".

This fanciful naming is symptomatic of a wider ailment in the Chinese movie industry, namely the pandering towards the international art-house circuit. Forgive my going off on a little rant.

Ever since the worldwide success of 卧虎藏龙 (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon), it seems Chinese directors have been churning out movie after movie following the same template. Large scale battles; elaborate costumes; ancient musical instruments; rolling land-/desert-/mountainscapes; and of course that all important evocative name have been used to greater or lesser effect in House of Flying Daggers, Hero, and The Promise. It seems that every notable film nowadays is chasing recognition and prizes by retreading the trail blazed by CTHD, and the sad thing is, the formula seems to be working.

Meanwhile, Hong Kong has been turning out one fantastic film after another. Even while sticking to its familiar themes of cops and robbers notable efforts of the last few years have included Infernal Affairs, Sha Po Lang and Exile.

Korean cinema's development also continues apace. Despite its attachment to soppy melodramas, Korean directors have had successful forays into every genre, and big hitters such as directors Park Chan-Wook and Ryu Seung-Wan, and actor Choi Min-Sik have been busy laying the foundations of a cinematic legacy, smacking hit after hit into the stands of the international market.

So it's all the sadder that a film like 黄金甲 can not only get made but also earn international plaudits. The film totally lacks imagination or passion. For example, the prominent incest theme appears to have been thrown in to add some depth and to bring the characters closer (much too close - are there any main characters who haven't discovered that they're related by the end?).

The use and over-use of crane shots and extreme close-ups on flowers or running feet are used to establish the movie's art-house credentials, but only serve to highlight how few truly original ideas there are here.

And the battle scenes, though impressive, look like they're there to create some employment and make use of the allegedly massive budget. Plenty of shots of hordes of soldiers running, not so many of any quality martial arts.

I can't help but feel that the whole project would have been better suited to the stage. Apart from the masses of extras in the background, the heavy-handed presentation of themes and small-scale family drama would have been a lot cheaper and a lot more palatable in the theatre.

That's not to say that there is nothing of redeeming value here.

周杰伦 (Jay Chou) makes the transition from pop-star to movie-star with a decent effort, having made huge advances on his underwhelming performance in Initial D. Despite some unfortunate facial hair, he holds his own against an over-acting Chow Yun Fat, and opens an unholy can of whoop-ass in the concluding battle scene. It's not fair, because his opponents are under orders not to kill him, but he still manages to rack up a Robocop-esque personal body count.

Meanwhile, the Imperial Doctor's daughter, 李曼 (Li Man) makes for some tasty eye-candy, and is definitely going to be one to look out for in the future.

When people talk about big-budget Hollywood flicks against art-house, the distinction often seems to centre around intelligence. Smaller pictures live or die on the strength of their ideas, whereas a Hollywood blockbuster is consumable - a forgettable spectacle.

Yet, it is fully possible to have an intelligent Hollywood blockbuster - the epitome of this must be the first Matrix movie - and there are plenty of insipid independent movies out there, such as the abysmal Little Miss Sunshine.

Increasingly, the Chinese movie industry is tending towards a third category - the big-budget, insipid, art-house movie. I eagerly await its corollary: the intelligent, low-budget, Hollywood blockbuster.