Two martial arts fighters face off in poses in front of a yellow leafed tree
Image: Everton / GoodFon

‘Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’ is not your typical martial arts film

Ang Lee’s Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is not your typical action or martial arts film. It instead balances the thrill of combat with a more deliberate tale of love, honour, and the quiet tension between freedom and duty. It’s based on the fourth book of Wang Dulu’s Crane-Iron series, written in the 1930s and ’40s, and Ang Lee’s adaption gives it a timeless quality. It is both a tragic and intimate rendition that captures the essence of Dulu’s books and combines it with the beauty of cinema.

The sword acts as a catalyst: beneath its theft there is a story of unspoken love, identity, and the weight of the choices that define us

The film revolves around three characters: Li Mu Bai, Yu Shu Lien, Jen Yu and their individual desires and their individual plights. These clashing desires are at the very core of the film, providing it with a heartbeat. Li Mu Bai chooses to retire from the withering life of the warrior and sets down his sword, The Green Destiny, only to be pulled back into the conflict when it is stolen. Yu Shu Lien, a famed female warrior – his companion and equal in skill – joins him in his pursuit. What starts as a pursuit for a sword quickly spirals into something deeper, revealing years of amnesty and tragedy. The sword acts as a catalyst: beneath its theft there is a story of unspoken love, identity, and the weight of the choices that define us.

The action occurs against the setting of ancient China, cinematically captured with ethereal beauty. Each scene becomes a painting under the direction of Ang Lee, the stillness of the landscapes and the soft muted colours create a constant sense of something both ancient and fragile. Even the action sequences seem to float, something I at first thought humorous, the fault of aged CGI, but the battles become more like dances and set the movie apart in terms of uniqueness. The famous treetop fight, in which the characters glide and hover, suspends the characters somewhere between gravity and grace. It becomes easy to forget they’re fighting at all because of the sheer serenity of the sequence, despite its obvious intensity. The film perfectly encapsulates the balance between dream and reality, never settling firmly upon one.

Lee’s direction is deliberate and powerful, every frame is deeply considered and impactful. There is almost a quiet rhythm to it, with the still shots and the slow pans so at odds with the sudden bursts of motion. The cinematography captures scenes in a way that feels spiritual, transforming mountains, courtyards, and deserts into reflections of the character’s inner turmoil. The film mirrors their emotional states, creating a dichotomy of beauty and pain.  Even the smallest of moments are emotionally charged and meaningful.

She’s the film’s restless heart, torn between tradition and rebellion, watching her fight back against the patriarchy is the heart of the film

The individual performances unite the film. Chow Yun-Fat plays Li Mu Bai as a man whose silence says more than his words ever could. Michelle Yeoh plays Yu Shu Lien with extraordinary grace, holding so much emotion in stillness and quiet poise. Together, they build a love story that’s quiet but devastating. So, at odds with Zhang Ziyi as Jen Yu, reckless and furious at the world around her. She’s the film’s restless heart, torn between tradition and rebellion, watching her fight back against the patriarchy is the heart of the film.

The Green Destiny sword becomes more than just an object: it’s a symbol of control – of everything the characters are trying to let go of but can’t. When it is stolen, it invokes a chain of events that reveals the true desires of each person. In that sense, the sword isn’t really about fighting at all, it’s about freedom, and the cost of trying to claim it.

When I finished watching, my initial thoughts going into the film were decimated. It’s clear that Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon isn’t just about martial arts or heroism. It’s about the push and pull between restraint and release, love and loss, and freedom and duty.

Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.