Set in pre-modern China, the role of rules on sex and gender was very evident in the movie. The emperor is conniving and ruthless while the empress pretty much represents the women of the time. She’s bounded by tradition to bow down to her husband, even when he’s trying to poison her. The act of the poisoning itself is very humiliating on the empress’ part, for the reason that the poison is presented as her medicine, and everyone looks at it as an act of concern of the Emperor. Running out of choices, she resorts to deceit and maneuverings. Even the tight dresses of the women in the movie suggest how women are suffocated in the society at that time; there was extreme male domination. As the Empress represents women, so does the Emperor represents the men. He shows how much dominion he has over his wife and sons, while he speaks of familial respect and concern in presence of his sons, he is slowly poisoning his wife. The role of their dress was further signified in the scene wherein the Empress throwed her robe and headpiece and reveals her insignia of golden chrysanthenum, revealing herself and her plot. Gong Li is, as always, very impressive in her role and Chow Yun Fat is effective as an overly power-hungry emperor. Both of them, honed in their craft, outdone their younger costars.
The movie is nothing short of dashing. From the extravagant costumes to the perfectly glittering set, everything seems to exude glitz and glamour. With its ubiquitous golden environment and staggeringly lavish palace, the result is a visual feast for the audience. However, these visually stimulating scenes are merely a reflection of the emperor’s passion for power and quest to hide the ugly secrets behind their lovely rooms. Beneath the grandiose of everything audience see, everything is simply superficial. Everything is just a façade to conceal corruption and dissolution happening inside the palace.
Curse of the Golden Flower is packed of lethal bitterness and distraught politics. Incest, murder, patricide are just some of the sins the characters are guilty of. Everyone is guilty of something and somehow deserves to be punished. The mother and son love between the Empress and Prince Jai seems to be the only decent relationship in their dysfunctional family. Prince Jai was the only prince who expressed worry when the Empress had her spells, and he quickly check on her to make sure she’s okay. Jay Chou, as Prince Jai shows promise in his character by transcending his acting in the latter part of the movie.
The movie was effective and should be given credit in projecting the wealth and prosperity of China in that time. However, even with the stimulating visual scenes, the movie still lacked the power to move its audience. The film’s extravagance isn’t enough to justify a satisfying experience. The flamboyance of the set doesn’t seem to match the potential of the movie. The indulgence in dashing costumes and set is never enough to sustain the melodrama. The actors were so-so and overall, the movie is just enough to show the audience how convoluted royalty life could be.
The melodrama never quite reaches the necessary boiling point. Zhang takes so long to establish the complexities of the court and gives us so few characters to care about — essentially just the empress and Prince Jai — that much of the film seems like unnecessary time spent with characters we’d just as soon not get to know so well. The performances are uniformly strong — though certainly Gong and Chow outshine their younger co-stars — but how many times can we see the emperor demonstrate his absolute power without it getting tired? And the shakeup we come to expect doesn’t quite work out as we’d hoped.