March 4th, 2008


Blood and Snowflakes

House of the Flying Daggers was beautiful and inexplicable, as so many Chinese films are. It involved a great many frail layers of silk drifting over flawless skin, slow motion flying daggers splitting water droplets, bamboo forests, exquisite androgynous men and doomed love. It did not end well (they never do).

The music, of course, was haunting refrains in a minor key.