The ROM in Review: Epilogue

In my last two posts, I spend some time criticizing the ROM's recent renovations, with regard both to their form and their function. I was, suffice it to say, unimpressed. That being said, I was not against renovations and other changes in principle; as ever, though, it's all in the execution. It's also nice to see a major cultural institution benefit from private philanthropy without the cost of a big Scotiabank or Shoppers Drug Mart logo plastered on the side of the building.

However, what troubles me is a seeming shift in the ROM's purpose, particularly with respect to who it is evidently meant to serve. In the late 1990s, the public subsidies to the museum were cut (by the Ontario government under Mike Harris, among others). This had one immediate consequence in the closure of the McLaughlin Planetarium. In the meantime, adult admission has since risen to $20, and while memberships still offer notable savings, such costs are rather exhorbitant for what is still, ostensibly, a public institution.

I'm not sure the ROM's current management believes this, however, and this is amply demonstrated by their continuing push to tear down the empty planetarium and replace it with nothing less than a luxury condo tower. Yes, that's right - public space was to be literally privatized for the use of those wealthy enough to live in "luxury" in Yorkville. Unsurprisingly, this was opposed by many local groups, notably the Faculty of Music at UofT, which is located directly behind the planetarium. Considering how the project was introduced, the opposition was not surprising:

Architect Brian Brisbin introduced the project. The tower will feature 42 storeys of residential condominiums atop a four-storey podium and provide for underground parking for 160 cars with access from Queen’s Park.

“The tower tells a story,” he said. “It’s like an obelisk, marking the skyline from the top to the bottom. It symbolizes the area and district, creating a significant identity for the ROM and the museum district.”

Of course, the condo tower (at 42 stories, no less) would clash with the surrounding area in both height and scale generally. And when I think of what symbolizes the ROM, I think of the rotunda (to be turned into a cafe, apparently), the totem poles, and the exhibits themselves. I don't follow how condos "tell a story", much less symbolize the area (unless the idea is to symbolize Yorkville... because what we really need is for a public institution to build a monument to signify conspicuous consumption and snobby restaurants and shops).

When I was growing up, never for a second did I doubt that the ROM's mission was to make natural and global history accessible and fascinating to the general public, while also providing support for scholarship and research. In light of funding cuts, it's not altogether surprising that the mission seems to have shifted. Yet I can't say I'm not offended by the ROM's evident orientation toward those over on Bloor who complained that, when Winners opened in the old Bloor Chapters location, it was the "wrong sort" of store for the area (yes, one person interviewed on the news actually said this... I suppose if one cannot afford Holt Renfrew or Cartier, one shouldn't expect to be able to shop on Bloor West?). It is, after all, still our museum, and with any luck, it will start to feel that way again some day.

*****

For the record, the ROM's self-described mission is as follows:

The ROM will be a world leader in communicating its research and collections to increase understanding of the interdependent domains of cultural and natural diversity, their relationships, significance, preservation, and conservation.

And, yes, the ROM remains an agency of the Government of Ontario. It should probably start acting like one.

The ROM in Review: The Galleries

In my previous post, I criticized the Michael Lee-Chin Crystal addition to the Royal Ontario Museum. It is neither impressive as an example of contemporary architecture nor well suited for the galleries it is meant to house. Although several notable galleries have remained essentially unchanged since the renovations, many others - such as the dinosaur and pre-historic mammal collections - have been entirely redone. But does this represent an improvement over the old galleries?

The Galleries: The new exhibitions are frankly a mixed bag. Some I like... some I really didn't. The new galleries include revamped dinosaur and mammal exhibits, several redesigned galleries of world culture, including China, Korea, Japan, South Asia, and the Middle East, and galleries devoted to Canadian historical artifacts and art and to Canada's First Peoples.

I'll start with the good. The new style of most of the ROM's exhibitions is one of minimalism. Dramatic dioramas have generally been eliminated in favour of bright, open galleries with most items mounted on walls or in glass cases. While this has mixed results, it serves to brighten up some previously easily overlooked galleries. This is especially the case with the Canadiana and First Peoples galleries, both of which were previously looked in the ROM's first basement, literally below the radar of most visitors. While the First Peoples gallery cannot compete with the scale of a recreation of a West Coast native villiage, it's well done and informative. For the most part, I didn't spend much time inspecting either of these Canada-centric galleries closely, their presentation is vastly improved. Thumbs up.

The ROM's galleries of Chinese culture, including stunning collections of temple art and sculpture, have always been highlights, and I'm pleased to say that the revamped galleries are quite successful. The Gallery of Temple Art especially is a vast improvement - previously, the impressive murals had been housed in a large but dimly lit hall, hardly the right showcase. Thanks to the minimalist (and, certainly, brighter) presentation, the collections feel more accessible. They are still grouped according to their respective dynasty, and the brighter lighting is appreciated - the previous incarnation of the exhibit could be rather gloomy. A further kudos should be given to the new arrangement of the Ming Tomb, which is now housed in an interior atrium and lit dramatically by indirect flood lights. All in all, I was impressed. Note that the similarly mounted galleries of Korea and Japan are essentially unchanged from before.

So far I have not actually described any new galleries in the Crystal. So here goes. The new galleries of Middle Eastern and South Asian culture, on the Crystal's third level. I didn't spend much time looking at these exhibitions; their presentation is minimalist, much like the galleries mentioned above, but the bizarre angles of the Crystal are simply distracting and only serve to reduce the amount and flexibility of interior spaces.

Now... what about the dinosaurs? The best I can say is that they now have more skeletons and fossils on display. However, as we all know, quantity is not quality. The picture below shows how one of the allosaurus fossils was previously mounted. Note the dramatic background; in this display, two allosaurs were depicted attacking a stegosaurus. I loved it. Indeed, the philosophy of the previous dinosaur (and mammal) gallery was to present the fossils in dramatic poses in colourful dioramas.


Things have changed, though. The new philosophy of the exhibit is to eliminate dioramas entirely. We are given the fossils simply as they are, which is admittedly in keeping with evidently minimalist presentation of the other new exhibits. The picture below shows a fearsome T-Rex. Note the white drywall in the background.


It goes without saying that I don't like the new galleries at all. Thanks to the Crystal's design, they are disjointed, cramped, and oddly shaped. Whereas visitors previously journeyed first through the age of prehistoric mammals and then into separate halls depicting massive (and scary, as they were mounted to give the impression of still being underwater) aquatic reptiles, hadrosaurs mounted as if only recently unearthed in the Badlands, a scene of mostly herbivorous dinosaurs from the Jurassic, and, finally, the aforementioned (Cretaceous) scene of a stegosaurus menaced by a pair of allosaurs. Along the way, there were smaller exhibits concerning the La Brea Tar Pits, the evolution of the horse, and, of course, our own species and our recent ancestors.

The new galleries lose any sense of a "journey through time"; everything is a mish-mash, and the minimalist presentation and brighter lighting actually detract from the experience. While I'll grant that, with some imagination, the dramatic scenes characteristic of the previous galleries can be brought out in one's mind's eye, that frankly doesn't cut it. Simply put, kids will always be the most enthusiastic visitors to a gallery of dinosaurs, and the dramatic and visceral the gallery, the more captivated the children will be. If the old gallery was akin to Jurassic Park, the new one is rather like a collection of photo stills from a paleontologist's catalogue; still quite interesting (and I'm sure kids will still like it quite a bit), but not as exciting.

That's more or less all I have to say on the new galleries. I should note, though, that exhibits relating to human evolution (or evolution in general) are conspicuously lacking in the new galleries. The cynic in me wonders whether such subjects are deemed too controversial, as the old evolution gallery itself often seemed to be neglected too. It's unconscionable that a musuem purporting to emphasize natural history would neglect such a unifying biological concept. A few other things bothered me:

• The Gallery of Reptiles would do well with some freshening, or at least some new signage. It's a perfectly serviceable exhibit, but it doesn't appear to have been maintained with sufficient care during the renovations.
  
• The entrance of the Bat Cave has been changed. In fact, it's been shortened, as the foyer, painted and decorated like a South American jungle, has been eliminated. This sadden me, especially since the change has no evident purpose.
  
• The insect (well, arthropod) gallery is gone entirely. It had better be restored at some point, unless the ROM's management believes that the largest phylum of animals should be ignored by a museum putatively concerned with educating visitors about the natural world.
  
• The corridor displaying various stuffed mammals is gone as well. It was kind of interesting (there were anteaters along with more traditional lions and wolves), and again I cannot figure out why it was removed, as nothing has replaced it.
  

I should mention, though, that much of the natural history galleries are currently unfinished - doubtlessly, some of the above changes and disappearances will doubtlessly be incorporated into the new biodiversity gallery, which won't actually open for a year (this may mean that the reptile gallery is simply awaiting some more profound changes). Likewise, an earth sciences gallery is upcoming, as is a temporary exhibit about Darwin (which, frankly, still doesn't make up for the evident lack of a dedicated evolution gallery).

All in all, the galleries new and old still prove that the ROM's collections are remarkably impressive. It's simply unfortunate that the Crystal's design is unsuited to giving these magnificent collections the best possible environment in which to experience them. I'll have an epilogue on the new ROM tomorrow or early next week.

The ROM in Review: The Building

About two weeks ago I visited the Royal Ontario Museum for the first time in a year or more. It marked the first time I'd visited since the completion of the Michael Lee-Chin "Crystal" (shown above), among other major renovations. I'll admit - I was skeptical about these renovations from the very start. Previously, the ROM had undergone a major renovation in the 1970s and 1980s; the space between the original neo-Romanesque wings had been enclosed, giving rise to grand halls lit by natural light as well as terraced galleries on the Bloor St. elevation. That's the ROM I grew up with; with only small exceptions, it remained pretty much the same from the late 80s until the current renovations began.

I won't lie and say that nothing should have changed, but I remain very attached to the ROM as it once was; growing up my grandparents frequently took me, my brother, and my cousins there on Saturday mornings, and it goes without saying that those visits made a strong impression on me. So, my review of the "new" ROM should be read in light of this, but I will say that my feelings on the renovations (and changes to some of the galleries in particular) are based on a more objective assessment. The ROM I knew is gone; so how does the new ROM stack up?

Well, first I should point out that not everything has changed. The Galleries of Birds, Reptiles, Ancient Egypt, Greece, and Bronze Age Aegean Art are all exactly as they were, as are the Samuel European Galleries, which continues to house arms and armour as well as a history of European decorative arts from the Middle Ages to the present day. The totem poles haven't moved, and the rotunda is as beautiful as ever. Additionally, since the original Crystal renovation plans were considerably scaled down, due to a variety of engineering and cost considerations (evidently, large amounts of glass to form such a Crystal are not just structurally unsound, but nightmarish for heating and cooling and, of course, the protection of fragile artifacts), the southern half of the 1984 renovation is completely intact. I daresay that even the washrooms haven't warranted an upgrade.

What's gone? Well, every single other gallery has been redone and moved. The Crystal structure has taken over the northern half of the building, and, bizarrely for a building with no fewer than five levels open to the public, the escalators appear to be gone permanently. For reasons I cannot fathom, the long-standing entrance on Queen's Park Crescent, which welcomed visitors into the stunning rotunda, has been abandoned in favour of a Bloor entrance, which provides visitors with an excellent view of a lot of white drywall. I may as well discuss the Crystal itself first.


The Building: I think the best I can say about the Crystal is that it's not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. The design has been considerably scaled down, as I noted above. Originally, the Crystal would've stretched nearly all the way back to the Planetarium; now, it just looms over Bloor, giving the impression that a Goa'uld mothership has landed on a mission to enslave Yorkville.

The idea behind the Crystal was to make the ROM into a "distinctive new symbol of Toronto for the 21st century" by embarking upon "one of the most important architectural projects of our time". Thus the dawn of the "Crystal Age" would make the stately old museum into the country's "premier cultural and social destination". Yes, they actually used this language to describe the renovation. The "new age" was to be ushered in by "starchitect" Daniel Libeskind, most of whose buildings display decidedly unconventional ideas, with all manner of strange sight lines and angular ceilings and walls. Of course, it would be more unconvential if this sort of post-modern architecture weren't so excessively trendy.

Inside the Crystal, you will indeed find all the hallmarks of Libeskind's angular designs. However, since the amount of glass had to be drastically scaled down (too much natural light in a museum is a bad thing), the interior consists of large swaths of white drywall. In fact, from some of the open spaces inside, it looks as though an iceberg has lodged itself into the side of the building, sort of like a Lawren Harris painting brought to life (only with less colour). The drywall is rather boring, though, and I cannot figure out why new escalators were not put in. There is at most one new elevator and, of course, a new staircase, but it seems ludicrous that crucial issues of accessibility were evidently overlooked. It's not just a matter of helping out the disabled or those with arthritis - carting around a bunch of kids is easier, I think, when they don't have to be crammed into elevators frequently.

Indeed, much about the new design veers far in the direction of "form" as opposed to "function". The angular walls are problematic for the efficient use of space in the second and third floor galleries of the Crystal especially; not only are the galleries cramped and disjointed, but the large amounts of angular white drywall create lots of useless open space that detracts from the exhibits aesthetically. At the same time, different sections of the upper levels of the Crystal are connected by walkways and short staircases, the surfaces of which are actually metal gratings that feel only slightly more stable than those that run over subway vents. The gratings are noisy and, to be blunt, ugly. I don't know what they were thinking, though I'm hoping that they're just temporary. In any case, one of those runs incongruously right into the arms and armour exhibit, so that the Crystal connects to some of the older sections of the building. This comes at the cost of an entire section of the exhibit (the antique firearms to be precise).

So, in sum, I don't much like the Crystal addition. It's definitely not very practical, but I could somewhat forgive that if it were actually impressive on the inside. It isn't, and I can conclude that Libeskind is tremendously overrated as an architect. That's not to say that I dislike contemporary modern architecture - just the opposite - but the new ROM is completely lacking in the seamless unity of form and function that is present in, say, the Canadian Museum of Civilization or the National Gallery. Now those are magnificent buildings. So, incidentally, is much of the existing ROM (as were the terraced galleries razed to make way for the Crystal), but the Crystal neither works with the original structures nor is it adequate taken by itself. The work is not done yet, though, so perhaps it will yet improve.

Since this post is already very long, I'll write a second post entirely about the galleries tomorrow.

A Brief Foray into Politics...

Generally speaking, I've preferred to steer clear of matters political on this blog, but this merits an exception to that rule. In a word, the Conservative Party, with the knowledge of then-Leader of the Opposition Stephen Harper, is alleged to have attempted to bribe the late independent MP Chuck Cadman into voting against the government on a crucial budget vote in May 2005. Had this occurred, the government would have fallen. The allegation surfaced via a soon to be published biography of Cadman, and is attested to by Cadman's widow as well as his daughter and her husband. The "financial incentive" offered was, according to Cadman, a "million-dollar life insurance policy", though it's not absolutely clear that that's what it was. Still, something was offered and the evidence comes from none other than Harper himself.

Now, we might ask whether this sort of thing is commonplace, whether this is "business as usual". And perhaps it is. But a bribe is a bribe, and justifying it along the lines of "but everyone else does it!" is hardly acceptable. Plus, offering "financial incentives" in exchange for votes is illegal, pure and simple. While it's debatable whether there is enough evidence for making a criminal case out of this, trial by election does not require proof beyond a reasonable doubt, and it seems amply clear that a financial offer of some sort was made. That's enough for me.

A Few Quick Reviews

With the Oscars coming up on Sunday, I feel that some capsule reviews are in order:

Juno

This is a sweet little movie about a controversial subject, namely teenage pregnancy. Juno, a 16-year-old played with verve and confidence by Halifax's Ellen Page, finds herself pregnant after a night of somewhat random intimacy with her best friend Paulie Bleeker (Michael Cera). She decides to have the baby, but give it up for adoption to a well-off couple, Vanessa and Mark (played by Jennifer Garner - who gives an emphathetic and moving performance - and Jason Bateman). I've read some criticisms of the film to the effect that it's not a realistic portrayal of teenage pregnancy - Juno's amusingly quirky parents (J.K. Simmons and Allison Janney) are too accepting and helpful or some such - but this is thankfully not an "issue" movie. But Juno is a very entertaining and light-hearted film, which brings a certain wry humour to a touchy subject and nonetheless manages to portray multifaceted characters and, crucially, genuine emotion. Now, while some of the hipster dialogue is a bit over-the-top (particularly in the beginning) and the indie folk soundtrack is a bit too... indie, I can find few real faults with Juno. I'm not sure it deserves the best picture Oscar, but since it's the only nominee which I've actually seen, I suppose I'll be rooting for it nonetheless.

Beowulf

What can be said about Beowulf... well, first, it was an entertaining ride, though I didn't actually see it in 3D as was available. Second, this represents the first computer animated film I've seen which attempts to create "realistic" human characters and largely succeeds in avoiding their looking creepy or distracting. Third, though the story departs significantly in a number of ways from the original epic poem on which it is based, I think, as an adaptation, the writers did a quite decent job in turning a somewhat scattered text into a coherent film. A brief note on the story: Beowulf (Ray Winstone) of the Geats arrives at Heorot, the great hall of King Hrothgar (an amusing Anthony Hopkins) of the Spear Danes, which is being menaced by the grotesque, vicious, and ultimately rather pitiable monster, Grendel (Crispin Glover, not that you'd ever recognize him). There's more to it than that, as Grendel's mother (Angelina Jolie) becomes involved. The story is not altogether complex, but it's fun enough, and there's a climactic sequence with a dragon that's quite something. Among the supporting players are Robin Wright Penn as Hrothgar's queen Wealthow, the always dependable Brendan Gleeson as Beowulf's comrade-in-arms Wiglaf, and John Malkovich, exhibiting one of his more bizarre and distracting (for him) speaking styles, as Hrothgar's Wormtongue-esque advisor Unferth. Something of a mixed bag then. Still, it's enjoyable enough, though it's not what one would call a "thinking movie".

(There are some nice touches, though, such as the gradual introduction of a syncretic Christianity into Norse culture over the years of the story, but I'm not sure most viewers will care. It's a nice detail for those of us who had to read the poem in its rambling entirety in university.)

Tales from Earthsea

Ursula Le Guin's first Earthsea book was not exactly my favourite read back in Grade 9, but reading some of her other books has forced my to reconsider my reaction way back then. Tales from Earthsea is a loose adaptation of some of the later books in her series, and is directed by Miyazaki's son, Goro. There is reportedly some degree of tension between them, and however much that might have affected the movie, it shows all the signs of having been rushed through production, which was apparently the case. The plot is simple enough - Prince Arren, after committing a horrible crime in his home country, goes into self-imposed exile, eventually gaining a travel companion in "Sparrowhawk" aka Ged, who is the Archmage and a wizard of some repute. Over the course of the film, Arren is literally forced to confront his inner demons, while meeting a seemingly unremarkable girl named Therru and the evil sorceror Cob along the way. Unfortunately, there is one major plot hole that plagues the film's resolution, and the script feels underwritten in other respects as well. But it does look breathtakingly gorgeous, with cityscapes clearly inspired by Rome, and the production and voice acting are excellent, as we should expect from Studio Ghibli. Tales from Earthsea is definitely a very pretty film, and while it's good overall, it's also seriously flawed. Le Guin herself has rather mixed feelings, but I'd say it's still worth seeing (assuming you can find it - it has yet to be released in North America... I obtained my copy from, shall we say, unofficial sources).

Application Anxiety Disorder

Now, I will state first that I am not currently suffering from Application Anxiety Disorder (AAD), but the same cannot be said of many of the people here who, aside from being keeners in the extreme, are highly concerned with email interview invites, admission statistics, personal "stats" (read: GPA, MCAT scores, extracurriculars, etc.), and, of course, the variable and seemingly illogical admissions policies of Canadian medical schools.

As an applicant myself, I've avoided most of this anxiety by, well, staying away from such forums and similar websites. For the moment, I lurk at this "premed" forum now and then, but I figure that avoiding registering there much less posting is a very healthy way of adding to my own stress levels. Admittedly, since I have at least two more interviews (for a current total of three chances to win), I'm well past the greater part of the uncertainty, but this forum is a testament to the overwhelmingly stressful and, well, excessive admissions process.

There are essentially a few givens for getting to the interview stage, at which point your "personal characteristics" (and subjective judgements thereof) start to matter a lot more. You'll need reasonably high marks and an MCAT score that's "high enough" and also balanced among the four categories; if you ace the science portions of the MCAT, but screw up the verbal reasoning or writing sections, your chances of getting an interview fall precipitously. Naturally, though schools like Queen's and UofT post "cutoffs" for admission, the rules are not as hard or fast as they might seem, and the process is by any reckoning opaque. However, since schools have varying cutoffs for students from different regions or backgrounds, an applicant might have an excellent chance at one school within her region and no chance at one in another province. Of course, if the justification for high academic standards for admissions is that people with high marks would make better physicians, then all this regional favouritism seems more than a little odd.

In any case, the process used to be much simpler - my dad, whose information is over thirty years out of date, doesn't recall having an interview at all to get into UofT. However, admissions appear to have become considerably more competitive over the years with the result being that academics are no longer enough - you need a certain array of community involvement (e.g. volunteering in hospitals or with sick/disabled people), extracurriculars, good references, and, often, research experience. Moreover, you need to sell yourself effectively in essays and, of course, at the all-important interview, where must demonstrate an ethical sense, critical thinking skills, strong communication skills, and "knowledge of the Canadian health care system". In short, you must pour yourself into the process, sell yourself in your essays, spend several years working away at getting lots of A's and A-'s, all while being well-rounded with some degree of community involvement and evidence that your life does not entirely revolve around schoolwork. And if you don't want to severely limit your application choices, you need to write the MCAT too, an ordeal which generally deserves its reputation as the most grueling of all standardized tests.

And so, after answering all manner of vaguely invasive personal questions in the essays and spending literally hundreds of dollars in application fees and transportation and hotel costs, you must remember that you still stand a better-than-even chance of being rejected. Most schools, at least, won't leave you hanging too long, and they'll send you a polite but firm email informing you that you didn't quite make the cut for an interview. At least one school, which shall remain nameless, won't have the courtesy to tell you anything, even after the interview dates have passed.

As for me, well, I'm not letting myself worry too much. I'm old enough to feel a bit more laidback about the whole process, but then I'm also lucky that I feel fairly confident of getting in somewhere. I don't think this confidence is misplaced, but this is far from a sure thing. In any case, Dal remains my best bet - the interview went well enough, I thought - but I won't find out until at least the end of this month and maybe much later. I could easily know the answer before either my Queen's or McMaster interviews, so I'm hoping it's the "right" answer. We shall see. I'm still waiting on UofT, and while I should be able to get an interview there, it's possible that a certain technicality will cause problems.

So, I'm not suffering from AAD, thankfully, but the process makes me wonder why that's not the case. It's certainly not fun!

Chinese Movies Without Martial Arts

I decided a few days ago that I want to start writing movie reviews again. I wrote a couple at Lion's Den some ways back, and I've been itching to do it again. In the future, I'll review the Vengeance Trilogy, recent films like Juno and Beowulf, and, eventually, Miyazaki's complete works for film. For now, though, I'll be giving my attention to a pair of Chinese films: Raise the Red Lantern and The Emperor and the Assassin.


In Raise the Red Lantern, Gong Li plays Songlian, a young university student in the 1920s. Her father's untimely death leaves her family without any income, forcing her to abandon her studies and leaving her with little choice but to become the fourth wife of a wealthy landowner, who we know in the film only as the Master (Ma Jingwu). Each of his four wives has her own house and servants, and each night the Master indicates which wife he wishes to spend the night with by lighting a red lantern above her door.

By family custom, the four wives are meant to eat together every night and interact harmoniously, though it would be more accurate to characterize their relationships as civil, at best. First Mistress (Jin Shuyuan) is indifferent to Songlian; she is old and has an adult son, but the Master is only interested in his younger wives. Second Mistress (Cao Cuifen), Zhuoyan, has a young daughter; she immediately befriends Songlian and warns her about Meishan (He Caifei), the Third Mistress, a former opera singer and the mother of the Master's younger son. Immediately upon arrival, then, Songlian enters an insular world of subtle competition for the favour of the Master. Meanwhile, Songlian's servant Yan'er (Kong Lin) is not without her own motives.

Perhaps not surprisingly, all is not what it seems in the house. Songlian uncovers dark secrets and betrayals, affairs and hopeless dreams. In describing the film, it almost sounds languid and talky, yet director Zhang Yimou crafts each scene with such care and eye to detail that a superficially simple scene can take on harrowing drama. After Songlian's arrival at the Master's house, the entire film takes place within its many courtyards and walls. Throughout the camera looks down from the roof into the courtyards, lending a claustrophobic feel to the setting. Of particular note is how Zhang depicts the Master; he is seen only in wide shots, his voice heard, but his face left unseen. His presence is always noted, yet he is deliberately remote, someone whose favour is sought by the four women as an end in itself. There is no love here, just the competition. Without spoiling the twists of the plot, the film's ending is at least doubly tragic, but the greater tragedy is the situation itself.

The performances, not just by the incomparable Gong Li but by the other actors as well, are note-perfect and subtle. It's no wonder that Raise the Red Lantern is often hailed as Zhang Yimou's finest work. His distinctive visual style is evident throughout; the camera work is eye-catching but not distracting, with wide, medium, and close shots chosen carefully for each scene, lending the film a sumptuous visual appeal. It's simply riveting. It's unfortunate, then, that Zhang Yimou has spent much of the past several years making a martial arts "trilogy" of sorts: the decent Hero, the uneven but serviceable House of Flying Daggers, and the simply abominable Curse of the Golden Flower. While each of these films allowed Zhang to paint within increasingly colourful backdrops of costumes and sets, none made use of his strengths as a filmmaker, namely the bringing together of brilliant craftsmanship and authentic drama that is so exemplified by Raise the Red Lantern.

*****

I had meant to review The Emperor and the Assassin in this post as well, but I believe I'll save that for another day, either tomorrow or later in the week.