Raise the Red Lantern

Zhang seems to suggest, the price for rebellion and transgression is still death or madness.

Visually ravishing and emotionally cold, Zhang's third feature is one long series of pushes and pulls.

A beautifully crafted and richly detailed feat of consciousness-raising and a serious drama with the verve of a good soap opera.

Gong Li delivers a performance of exquisite expressiveness that, like the film itself, is unnerving in its emotional nakedness.

The story never amounts to much more than a rather tepid Chinese rendition of The Women.

A near-perfect movie that often recalls the visual purity and intensity of silent films.

Once again making exceptional use of bright colour, symbolic compositions, stylised sets and the breathtaking rural landscape, director Zhang Yimou has fashioned a compelling and at times erotic story about the repression of women in 1920s China.

In Raise the Red Lantern, Zhang Yimou's most widely acclaimed film, the Chinese director portrays life as a series of performative gestures under the duress of cultural tradition, prescribed gender roles, and hierarchical power structures.

The feminist anthem here is a subtle wisp bolstered by sumptuousness, Zhang's masterful composition and Gong.

This incomparably handsome film quickens and darkens into a fascinating drama of sexual politics in a time when women were little more than pampered prisoners.