Show-stopping scenes of regal power and wirework martial arts in Chinese period dramas might be all the rage in the West but the success stories of these best-selling films have provoked an uneasy debate at home about what Chinese blockbusters should be all about. Described by some critics as “feasts for the eyes”, these big-budget hits have been slammed for leaving the audiences hungry for substance and deprived of soul. Their artfully scripted scenes of carnage and violence have made some lament that even lowbrow Hollywood films are better at passing judgement and affirming the victory of good over evil.

Since Taiwanese director Ang Lee’s 2001 film Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon drew the curtain on a China of mystery and imagery and went on to win an Oscar, three of mainland China’s most-renowned directors have succumbed to the allure of directing opulent period dramas that feature imperial power struggles and captivating kung-fu fights. Zhang Yimou, perhaps the best known of all living Chinese directors, rolled out two big-budget films, Hero in 2002 and the House of Flying Daggers in 2004, both affirming his reputation as maestro of the visual.

Hero dazzled the eye with half a dozen hues, breaking the story of an attempted imperial assassination into several cameos of colour and retelling it as many times as seen by the film’s main characters. Hero became the best-selling Chinese film ever. The House of Flying Daggers for its part, showcased breathtaking martial arts flicks, offset by scenes of willowy bamboo forests and willowy female warriors. While not as grandiose as Hero, the House of Flying Daggers firmly established the Chinese industry’s potential to compete with Hollywood in artistic talent and audience-drawing sets. Last year saw three new period dramas. Zhang unveiled another court spectacle, the $45 million The Curse of the Golden Flower, said to be the biggest-budget Chinese film of all time.

What angers critics are the numerous bloodbaths and pervasive violence that accompany imperial power struggles. In films like The Banquet and The Curse, the ensuing massacres are presented like scene-stealing shows of beautiful and painless deaths. Violent death is only a moment of broken harmony in these imperial courtyards and the piles of dead bodies are hastily swept away to be replaced with a sea of flowers.

“These new productions are not art house pictures that can easily afford to profess violence and doom,” says film critic Zi Yufei. “They aim to be big commercial hits but don’t have any bottom line. Which Hollywood blockbuster dares depict so much blood and let the evil triumph

over the good?”

The pre-eminence of foreign audiences’ taste is dictated by the fact that more than half financing for these big-budget productions comes from overseas. “When you rely on someone else’s money to produce a film, it is inevitable that you have to sacrifice your own original ideas and intentions,” says film producer Wang Zhonglei in defence of the new Chinese blockbusters. Ultimately, it is not a question of what these big films got wrong, reflects commentator Chen Danqing. “It is about the lack of thriving and diverse cultural scene in China where only these historical blockbusters get the nod and the money.” — IPS