I used this website: https://newrepublic.com/article/70443/redemption-film

“Hero ended by applauding individuals’ willingness to give up everything–their ideals, their country, their lives–for the good of the Chinese state. But while House of Flying Daggers is also about imperial rule and rebellion, by its conclusion politics have faded far into the background. Although a decisive battle is about to take place between the empire and its resistance, the protagonists have left behind their loyalties to either side, instead fighting and dying for more intimate concerns: for love, for jealousy, for redemption or release. Zhang never bothers to show the clash of armies or let us know its outcome. Empire, rebels, he seems to be saying, what difference does it make who wins in the end?”

“As great a relief as it is after the ugly moral of Hero, the tragic-romantic conclusion of House of Flying Daggers still falls flat. Even in his earlier, earnestly dramatic films–Ju Dou in 1990, for example–Zhang Yimou’s portrayal of love felt a little inert, a sentiment that was announced more clearly than it was conveyed. This stagy formalism persists in House of Flying Daggers, and while it may simply be an issue of awkward cultural translation, it nonetheless makes it hard to empathize too deeply with the characters’ loves and losses.”

“It nonetheless soars as an action adventure… the movie blurs the line between dance and combat. It’s a correlation made explicit early in the film. After performing a slow, traditional dance for Jin at the Peony Pavilion, Mei is challenged by Leo to play the “echo game.” Upright drums are assembled in a circle around the blind girl; when Leo flicks a bean off one of them (then two, then dozens), Mei follows his lead with the long, weighted sleeves of her dress, spinning, kicking, and leaping with acrobatic zeal. (It undoubtedly helps that star Zhang Ziyi trained as a dancer before entering film.) At the end of her performance, the shift from art to violence is completed when Mei sends out one sinuous sleeve to unsheathe Leo’s sword and attack him with.”

“As in Hero, Zhang Yimou finds a balance between computer-generated effect and live-action stunt that continues to elude most Hollywood filmmakers. The soldiers’ javelins and rebels’ boomerang-like daggers may be digitized, but the combatants themselves are not. Even Mei’s remarkable sleeve-wielded sword is made possible with wires rather than pixels. As a result, no matter how delightfully cartoonish the action may at times become, it never looks like a cartoon.”

“But as with past Zhang Yimou efforts, the true stars are the sets, costumes, and scenery, a breathtaking banquet of colors and textures filmed with rapturous affection by cinematographer Xiaoding Zhao.”

“These man-made marvels can hardly compete, however, with the landscape through which Mei and Jin make their long escape. The autumn foliage of the woods bursts with colors so vivid they could shame American trees into staying green all year long; the bamboo grove where Mei and Jin are ambushed (shot on location, not in a studio) is an otherwordly setting, a shaded yet open arena punctuated by bare tree poles.”

“House of Flying Daggers concludes with a sword battle between Jin and Leo that begins under sunny skies but ends in the midst of a heavy snow fall. It’s a stunning image, reminiscent of the swirling yellow leaves Zhang turned blood red at the end of a fight sequence in Hero. Unlike that scene, however, the melee in the snow is the result not of digital tinkering, but of a higher-order intervention–an unanticipated blizzard that nearly cancelled shooting before Zhang decided to integrate it into the film.”