'Eclectic' is the first word that comes to mind when considering Ang Lee's directorial record. From ever-so-English prestige drama (Sense and Sensibility), to the bleak subtext of seventies swinging (The Ice Storm), to epic US Civil War swashbuckling (Ride With The Devil), it's been some journey. And yet what is consistent is Lee's gift for unfolding the emotional nuances in every situation. It was this (as well as Emma Thompson's Oscar-winning performance) which injected Sense and Sensibility with a genuine - if muted - passion missing from so many of the other projects jogging along sedately on the Austen bandwagon.
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, though leaping continents and eras again to nineteenth century China, still reveals the delicate Ang Lee touch. Yes, it's a martial arts movie, yes, the locations are dramatic and gorgeous, yes, it's a cracking story, yes, there are some moments of pure adrenalin and visual ecstasy. But equally gripping and virtuoso is the treatment of the characters. The sweeping story of murder, deception, revenge and love (and lots of kung fu) still allows space for the most subtle portrayal of human interaction and individual motivation. The quiet, troubled love between Li Mu Bai, a veteran Wudan warrior, and Yu Shu Lein, also a trained fighter who was once engaged to Li's best friend, is pitched perfectly (with enthralling performances by Chow Yun-fat and Michelle Yeoh) against the heady hunt for a stolen sword which becomes a desperate fight between good and evil. And at the centre of this fight is another brilliant performance, fiery and focused, from Zhang Ziyi as Jen, a wealthy young girl facing an arranged marriage while secretly coveting the life of a warrior. Her powerful, dangerous will drags us through pain, conflict and an array of fight scenes which truly put the art in martial arts. The grand narrative is anchored in her very human struggles and choices.
But despite convincing acting and Ang Lee's confident direction, there are times when the audience is wrong-footed. Uncertain laughter greeted the first sudden introduction of Matrix-style feats (leaping across rooftops, running up vertical walls etc) into a film which begins as naturalistic history. There is throughout a slight feeling that there are two different films here, one an epic, beautifully told love story, and the other a supernatural feast of jaw-dropping, physics-defying kung fu and fantastical happenings. But the mixture is so enjoyable that I'm inclined to think we should be grateful to have both, even if they don't mesh seamlessly.
Technical brilliance aside, Ang Lee reminds us that human frailty, human endeavour and human love are the touchstones of great cinema. His settings and special effects, however magnificent, are always the backdrop to the story, never an excuse for it. I suppose it's too much to hope for that those involved in the Star Wars franchise might take some lessons from him?