…I loved the movie Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon. American audiences finally got to see the heart and soul of Hong Kong cinema brought to the screen by master Ang Lee (who then went on to pleasure himself all over The Hulk) and masterfully acted by Chow Yun Fat and Michelle Yeoh. It was so unexpected and fresh at the time my fledgeling film buffery latched onto it and it’s still one of my favorite movies.

Then came “Hero.” Presented by Quentin Tarantino and bringing more of the fairytale goodness of Croucing Tiger, Hero told a magical story within a story. I found it to be even more intense, interesting, and emotionally deep than Crouching Tiger. The fighting scenes have more polish and are, in my opinion, more daring.

These movies represent a portion of cinema culture that mainstream Americans have really only experienced withing the last ten years or so. However, there is a new movie, House of Flying Daggers, which I fear may signal something awful: Eastern Poetic Cinema as a Cliche.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m actually excited to see it. It looks high quality. But, how many Asians flying through bamboo can we see before they become “Asians flying through bamboo.” I just worry that what I used to think of as under-the-radar cinema will become passe before it’s even on-the-radar.

Feel free to input:

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