King of Qin, King Ying Zhang (Li Xuejian), is bound by a mandate dictated by his ancestors to unite the seven kingdoms of China and unify them "all under heaven". By fulfilling this obligation it is his belief that conquering the other kingdoms will result in peace after years of civil war. His wife to be, Lady Zhao (Gong Li), has grown weary of palace life and wishes to return to her home of Zhao. However she is moved by Ying Zhang's desire to unite China and bring peace. They then conger a plot that will cause the powerful kingdom of Yan to send an assassin to kill Ying Zhang, then giving him good reason to lay siege to Yan. It is Lady Zhao's belief that the kingdom of Yan would surrender before any blood was spilt, and harbours such confidence in the plan, that she even has her face branded to give credibility to the façade of being exiled. She then goes to the kingdom of Yan, and finds a suitable candidate to carry out the assassin ation in the form of Jing Ke (Zhang Fengyi), who has no fear of death. However in her absence Ying Zhang becomes increasingly ruthless after learning a few home truths.

Released a year earlier, 'The Emperor and the Assassin' missed the wave of western interest created by 'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon'. As such it only received a limited release in the US. However 'The Emperor and the Assassin' is more than worthy of being mentioned in the same breath as 'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon', 'Hero' and 'House of Flying Daggers'. In fact in some ways it is superior to all three of the aforementioned films, namely in it's narrative and it's attention to character development. Be warned however that 'The Emperor and the Assassin' is not an action film, nor is it meant to be. It is an efficient historical drama. What little action that does exist is very brief, grittily realistic but perfect for this film.

It may not have the dazzling visuals of Yimou's 'Hero' and 'House of Flying Daggers', but the cinematography remains of the highest quality and is still a beautifully shot film. With it's palette of muted colours it boasts an almost sepia quality. Coupled with the expertly measured (though some may find it bordering on slow) pacing of the film the result is somewhat mesmerising. With the web of political intrigue and the destruction of Ying Zhang's family, interest is always sustained as Ying Zhang is corrupted by his power and ambition in his quest to fulfil his ancestors mandate and his own ideals.

Overall, 'The Emperor and the Assassin' is a minor masterpiece and comes highly recommended, though it should be stated that this is not a film for everyone. Chen Kaige has performed admirably to weave the intricate plot strands together without causing the narrative to become convoluted. It certainly deserves more attention that it has received.

Set in the third century B.C., the film tells the story of Ying Zheng (played by Li Xuejian, who also starred in The Blue Kite and Shanghai Triad), the ruler of the Qin kingdom, who seeks to unite China by force and become its first emperor. At first his goals are lofty, but in pursuit of what he considers a heavenly mandate and his historical destiny, he ends up killing thousands of innocent people. Ultimately, he is confronted by an assassin named Jing Ke (Zhang Fengyi) who is bent on ending his grand but misguided plans. Like the heroes of many Westerns, the assassin is a supremely reluctant one, but it is this very reluctance that gives him the moral right to proceed. In the role of Ying's conflicted mistress Lady Zhao is the always luminous Gong Li, the leading lady of Chinese cinema, who has starred in two of Chen's earlier films, Farewell My Concubine and Temptress Moon.

Though the film is echt Chinese, it reminded me more than anything else of two completely different aspects of Japanese culture, set contrapuntally. The thrilling, superbly choreographed battle scenes are strongly reminiscent of such great films as Kagemusha and Ran, both late works directed by the Japanese master Akira Kurosawa. Perfectly juxtaposed to these larger-than-life events are intimate interior scenes which deploy the subtle and highly stylized emotional tensions that can be found in the superficially rigid Japanese Noh drama, but with the surface humanity left intact and clearly discernible.

The film's contemporary resonance, however, is all Chinese. Chen told me in an interview at the Toronto Film Festival that despite being set in the 3rd century B.C., the film was meant as an overt commentary on, among other things, the obnoxious saber-rattling of present-day Chinese leaders regarding the always recalcitrant Taiwan, which they insist on incorporating into a greater China. He also expressed despair over his countrymen's current interest in making money above all else, and said that he hoped more of them would begin emulating the Assassin, who dares to say no to power, despite the immense odds against him.

On a formal level, Chen relies on the typical Fifth Generation obsession with lush cinematography. Thus, every shot is stately and regal, filled with intense color and expressive line, and seemingly worthy of being framed. Yet he never forgets the human level, either, and the psychological games that these characters play with one another -- especially during the brilliant final confrontation between the emperor and the assassin -- are exciting and deeply submerged at the same time.

This film requires an investment of patience and attention--it's 161 minutes long and has a cast of characters with unpronounceable names that boggle the mind--but the payoff is more than worth it.