Zhang pulls a fly-by

"House of Flying Daggers" director Yimou Zhang is this generation's Sergio Leone. Leone dominated the Western genre in his series of "Spaghetti" Western films, which included "The Good, The Bad and the Ugly." Prior to his work, the Western genre, though attractive in many ways, consisted mostly of B-grade direction, writing and acting.

With 2002's "Hero," released in the U.S. in 2004, Zhang brought Chinese martial arts cinema to the American masses. "Hero" finished what Ang Lee's "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" started in 2000. Together, these films altered the popular perception of the kung-fu genre from a poorly dubbed excuse to defend a young maiden's honor to a rich, vibrant art form with untapped storytelling potential.

"House of Flying Daggers," adapted from the Chinese title, "Shi mian mai fu," is Zhang's follow-up to "Hero." The film is nearly as visually stunning as its predecessor, but the story fails to deliver the same punch, and never has a pun been more intended.

The story takes place at the tail end of the Tang dynasty. A rebel force, "The House of the Flying Daggers," is attempting to infiltrate and destroy local police forces. A young deputy named Jin, played by Takeshi Kaneshiro, makes an attempt to counter-infiltrate by posing as a friend of the Flying Daggers. He breaks Mei, (Ziyi Zhang) a beautiful young member, out of police custody and aids her in battles against his own police forces.

As Jin saves Mei's life on several occasions, the two begin to fall for one another. The question is, can they love one another while remaining loyal to their rival organizations?

The answer to this question becomes complicated. More complicated than it needs to be, actually. Only five characters are given real dialogue, but their respective roles in the story flip and switch and ultimately confuse, until they're all back where they started. He's going to help her. No, he's not. Wait, he still might. No. Oops, yes he is. This inner dialogue is bound to take place in the viewer's mind with respect to several topics, with increasing frequency in the film's third act.

In addition to the convoluted nature of the plot, the story fails to affect the viewer who demands to be familiarized with the characters. Some viewers can have sympathy for a character they've only just met, while others can't jerk a tear if the characters aren't given identities. Zhang's attempts at tragedy will leave such moviegoers with only dry tissues in their pockets, unless it's cold season.

Having noted the beef, there are more than enough redeeming qualities to make "House of Flying Daggers" a worthwhile endeavor. For those who have seen "Hero," the visual effects are still stupendous. Since "Hero" was a story told through the eyes of its characters, there was room for dreamlike imagery. Zhang ran with it and impressed all the more.

"House of Flying Daggers" is told objectively, taking away a good portion of that privilege. The backdrops are largely more realistic, but a surreal aura still surrounds the outdoor scenes.

The film's cinematography is crisp as can be, from first frame. It dissolves into a modest graininess at times, seemingly to account for animated additions to the scene. These transitions are a bit awkward, but they hardly distract.

More distracting, though certainly through no fault of anyone on the crew or staff, is that the first three ascending notes of the film's main theme exactly match those of "The Last of the Mohicans" theme. That tune is probably the most memorable main theme of the past 10 years, mimicked closely by the "Braveheart" theme.

The film is a pleasure, even if it does not measure up to "Hero." The action migrates from dance-like fluidity to cutthroat brutality several times, pleasing viewers who enjoy both types. The language used is classically frank, but playfully sexual at moments. Jin, confident he'll win Mei's lust, utters a classic line one can only hope was the product of excellent translation.

"If I die under a skirt, I shall flirt as a ghost."