In any other hands, it would seem a perversion: a Chinese wuxia film that features action only sparingly, that lingers on stillness, ogles space, maintains incongruity, and disinvites allegiance, while treating physical contact like a toppled vase—swiftly dropping, bafflingly scattering. But this is a work by Hou Hsiao-hsien, reflective of a sensibility sprung from the inside out, with story, aesthetics, and emotion utterly intertwined.
Eric Hynes
January 4, 2016