Here, the empress (Gong Li) glides through psychedelically styled hallways in her elegant gowns, a thing of beauty to rival the stunning art glass and intricate woodcarving that surrounds her. And yet she suffers from a poison prescribed by her own husband, the emperor (Chow Yun Fat), who wishes to punish her for seducing his eldest son, the crown prince (Liu Ye).

This much we learn early on. Other secrets lurk far deeper. There are hints of what's to come, as in the sparring match between Chow Yun Fat (virtually unrecognizable behind the character's graying facial hair and stony stoicism) and his second son, Jai (Jay Chou). Here, Zhang treats us to a sword fight for the sheer aesthetic thrill of it, with father clad in gold armor, his son in silver, blades throwing sparks against ornate breastplates.

But Curse stands in stark contrast with Zhang's last two martial arts pictures. Where Hero and House of Flying Daggers married action and romance in equal doses, the director's latest is entirely devoid of love. There's lust aplenty, along with strong ties between parents and their ill-fated offspring, but intrigue outweighs emotion in such a toxic mix as this.

For the film's first disquieting hour, Zhang confines us to the palace in all its suffocating splendor. Formal ritual dominates here, as evidenced by the small armies of handmaids who prepare and serve the empress' "medicine." And yet, within the routine, suspicions mount.

Much of the movie's pleasure comes in keeping track of just how much each character knows at any given time. One prince dies never learning of his mother's incestuous affair; another expires without realizing his father's plot to poison the empress.

As her paranoia builds, Gong Li is particularly satisfying to observe, her mind already farther gone than the wickedly unhinged first lady Jean Smart played in last season's 24. For those who cried "camp" of Gong's high-strung turn in Memoirs of a Geisha, you ain't seen nothing yet.

Other critics have been quick to invoke the Bard in their reviews. The melodrama here is of a sort seldom taken seriously outside Shakespeare's tragedies, and the final body count rivals Hamlet in its royal bloodletting. But as Western analogies go, Curse achieves an emotional fervor more in keeping with ancient Greek mythology than Elizabethan theater.

By the movie's cataclysmic finale, so pitched is the familial in-fighting that the characters might as well be hurling lightning bolts at one another. Considering that Hollywood has never done right by Mount Olympus (Clash of the Titans' embarrassing toga pageant represents its best attempt), it's about time someone committed such magnificent folly to film.

[as featured in The Miami Herald]