[The following review contains MAJOR SPOILERS; YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!]
While The Assassin is often classified as a wuxia film, it is anything but conventional. Hou Hsiao-hsien omits many of the structural and stylistic elements traditionally associated with the most formulaic version of the genre (as established by the likes of King Hu and Chang Cheh), instead emphasizing pure visual splendor.
The movie is not, however, just an empty spectacle; on the contrary, every image is dense with meaning, conveying theme, conflict, and characterization not through tedious exposition, but rather through the juxtaposition of stillness and movement, the elegantly purposeful shot composition, and the poetic rhythm of the editing. Consider, for example, the early scene that I’ve excerpted below. Notice how the protagonist is literally “boxed in” by her surroundings as her mentor admonishes her for apparently lacking the conviction to kill without hesitation or remorse—reflecting how she feels trapped by her duties and obligations.
When the conversation is essentially repeated later in the narrative, albeit under drastically different circumstances—our heroine has grown more openly rebellious, blatantly and unapologetically disobeying explicit orders—the framing is significantly wider. Additionally, the rigid architecture is replaced by a sprawling natural landscape—which is gradually obscured by thick, billowing mist as the relationship between master and subordinate grows increasingly turbulent.
I realize that I’m not contributing much commentary here, but the written word is simply incapable of adequately describing the appeal of a story that is so inherently, fundamentally cinematic; those screen grabs speak clearly enough for themselves.
Ultimately, The Assassin features the exact tone and atmosphere that you’d expect from the director of Three Times, Flowers of Shanghai, and Café Lumière: patient, quiet, and almost hypnotically, seductively contemplative, punctuated by pregnant silences and peppered with poignant ellipses. It is, in short, a martial arts adventure that is as atypical and idiosyncratic as it is profound, transcendent, and unforgettable.
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