On the eve of the Chong Yang Festival in 10th century Tang Dynasty, the Imperial family comprising the Emperor (Chow Yun Fat), the Empress (Gong Li), the Crown Prince and the second son Prince Jai are embroiled in a familial war entailing passion, treachery, treason and betrayal, resulting in a bloody rebellion and an end to the empire.

Let us make this easy. Do not, at any point, try to compare this movie to the likes of Yi Mou's well-known movies in this country, such as "Hero" or "House of Flying Daggers". With descriptions such as "promises to be Zhang Yi Mou's most action-packed and biggest production to date", I had expected dazzling fighting sequences and a compelling storyline that would perhaps rival that famous "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" from Oscar-winning director Ang Lee. Don't hold your breathe though; "Curse of the Golden Flower" focuses more on being historically correct regarding the golden age in China during the later Tang Dynasty.

The movie is about the balance of power between the Emperor (Chow Yun Fatt), and his Empress (Gong Li), whom he took as his second wife when he was just a general in order to gain access to the throne. Their three sons are torn between family loyalty, that is, loyalty to the father figure and the Emperor; and loyalty to the stepmother and the Empress. Even more caught up in his emotions is the Crown Prince, who has been having an illicit affair with his stepmother while the Emperor was away. As the days progress, so does the plot to overthrow the Emperor and the final showdown begins at the hour of the Chong Yang Festival, when thousands of soldiers bearing the insignia of the golden chrysanthemum launches an attack on the palace.

I was extremely disappointed by Chow Yun Fatt's performance as the Emperor of China. He didn't seem to be very intimidating as the Emperor, even though the dialogue he was given, if delivered properly, would have sent chills down a person's spine. The words were meant to reflect a cold-hearted Emperor who was so embedded in his cultural principles of family piety that he felt nothing for his Empress, so much so that he was willing to slowly poison her. The much-look-forward-to scene, where the Emperor is striking down his son with his golden belt, to show the cold heartedness of a great ruler who is a father figure, is cut out of the movie - leaving one feeling that they may have just chopped out the best scene ever.

Yi Mou tries to bring back the iconic female character seen in his classic "Raise the Red Lantern", and again casts his favourite leading lady, Gong Li, as the Empress. Gong Li has had amazing roles before, and as usual shines in her portrayal of the Empress. The Empress is caught in the political intricacies of the palace and a woman's suppressed role in China during that era. At every hour of the day (a large hour, or shichen, according to the Chinese time measurement, is equivalent to our two-hour period, and was labelled according to the 12 animals in the Chinese zodiac), she is brought a drink of strong liquid, prescribed by the Emperor which is meant to help her with her illness. However, she is fully aware that it is the drink itself which is the cause of the illness which grips her constantly. With this, her performance shines as she portrays the regal woman who, bound by tradition and the Emperor's terrifying edict, cannot speak out against the plot to kill her and struggles with each cup of poison which she has to drink.

Jay Chou, as Prince Jai, surprisingly seems to be the next hottest actor to hit the silver screens. The "Initial D" actor seemed wooden at first in "Curse", but as the movie progresses, so does his acting. There also exists a chemistry of sorts between his character and the Empress which transcends into the undying loyalty up until the end when he leads the coup d'etat against his father.

The movie is not without its plot twists and surprise moments, especially when the birth mother of the Emperor's sons are revealed, and everything begins to unravel at the night of the Chong Yang Festival.

The palace is beautiful, and just by looking at the specially crafted wall carvings, pillars and upholstery, it was apparent that an incredible amount of money went into building this as more than just a movie set. However, instead of focusing so much on the surrounding architecture and interior design of the palace, Yi Mou should have also shown us the results of this opulence; the suffering folk and run-down villages who had to pay taxes for the royal family to live so grandly during China's 'golden age'. Perhaps then the message of the film might have been clearer; that the royal family, for all their external wealth, is no better in character than their farmers.

The costumes and settings looked perfect, and seemed to the naked eye, correct in every detail. According to the production notes, it took 2 months and 40 artisans just to create the major costumes worn by the Emperor and Empress. Also, the servants and eunuchs of the palace moved around with an almost clockwork movement, symbolising the rigidly spartan life they were in.

The scene which had a huge impact symbolically, was when the palace square, littered with thousands of dead soldiers and filled with crushed chrysanthemum petals, were all swept away and replaced with new flowers by hundreds of loyal palace servants - as if nothing had ever happened. A powerful scene requiring no words, it reflects the sentiment of the current era; what we do know of history, is what the victor, and not the vanquished, puts in writing.

It's a beautifully crafted movie, visually appealing, and for the historians, something to feast your eyes on as China's history is brought to life. But as the minutes pass, you come to realise that there isn't much substance to the story. As the movie tagline quotes an old Chinese saying, "Gold and jade on the outside, rot and decay on the inside," the movie's beautiful exterior seems to hide the dull tarnish of the supposed action-packed plot.

Produced at a record US$45 million budget, Zhang Zimou's "Curse Of The Golden Flower" is undeniably a cinematic spectacle with eye-boggling sets and costumes - and, of course, action sequences of 'epic proportions'. In fact, the set and costume designs are so rich and eye-catching that one may mistake the film as his 'Parade Of The Bouncing Boobs'! (We will get to that later).

The Golden Flower of the title refers to the Chrysanthemum - the traditional Chinese symbol of nobility. Here, it is also the personal symbol of power for a Tang Dynasty Empress (Gong Li) who has plans to use it during the annual Chong Yang Festival - the Festival of the Golden Flowers.

It is AD 928, and as the Emperor (Chow Yun Fat) marches home with his second son, Prince Jai (Jay Chou), he plans to make some changes for his family. Unknown to him, his estranged Empress and his two other sons, Crown Prince Wan (Liu Ye) and his youngest, Prince Yu (Qin Junjie), also have plans of their own. Prince Wan, who is having an affair with the Empress, has decided to run away with Chan (Li Man), daughter of the Imperial Doctor (Ni Dahong); the Empress, who discovers that she has been slowly poisoned, intends to use a newly-divulged secret to force the Emperor to abdicate; and the jovial Prince Yu also has something up his sleeve.

These aspirations and conspiracies, however, are supposed to be set in motion during the Chong Yang Festival but, as most palace contrivances go, you can expect a few twists in the plot. The story, loosely adapted from the 1934 play Thunderstorm by the famous author Cao Yu, is about a royal family that is not just dysfunctional, but homicidal. It is no wonder that the fall of the dynasty is imminent.

Released so soon after Feng Xiaogang's similarly-themed "The Banquet", comparisons are inevitable. Both are visually stunning but movie artistry is more vibrant in "Banquet". Zhang's spectacle lies mostly in its opulent but static sets and eye-popping costumes which sometimes threaten to distract us from the narrative. To Zhang, more is definitely better and it is breath-taking to see a palace run by hundreds of nubile young servants and eunuchs, how thousands of Imperial Guards battle each other dressed in armour of gold and blue - all among a sea of potted chrysanthemums. The most arresting sequence, however, is that of black-hooded guards dropping on ropes down to homes to do the Emperor's bidding.

Yes, Zhang's accent is on visuals and there is not much in the way of plot or character-development to get us involved emotionally. Chow Yun Fat is just adequate as the scheming, oppressive Emperor; Gong Li almost gets our sympathy as the victimised Empress; and Liu Ye is suitably pathetic as the helpless Crown Prince. Li Man provides more than 'eye-candy' as the buxom Chan, while Jay Chou (who sings the theme song at the end credits) is 'wooden' and the weakest of the cast.

After going overboard with unbridled action and stunts in his big-budget efforts like "Hero" and "House Of Flying Daggers", Zhang seems to be paying more attention to the narrative here. He just needs to concentrate more on getting the audience involved to reach that 'perfect balance' like that of "Raise The Red Lantern".