Due to her brother's "accident" in smoking arsenic instead of opium, Ruyi (played by the ever-luminous Gong Li) is granted leadership over the family fortune at a time when women's equality didn't exist. Ruyi's cousin, Duanwu (Kevin Lin), is ordered to serve as her personal attaché, and, smitten by her charms, he faithfully executes her every command. However, Zhongliang -- a close relation now grown up and playing a con man to perfection in Shanghai -- returns home, at the behest of his boss, to bilk Ruyi out of the family fortune. As the balance of influence continually shifting between Zhongliang and Ruyi and Duanwu, it becomes increasingly difficult for each person to understand how love - or the appearance of it - drives not only their honesty but also their respective deceits. However, when Zhongliang discovers he has fallen deeply in love with Ruyi, he chooses to alter her fate ... but his choice only secures his own fate in the eyes of the triad he serves.

Far more melodrama than pure period piece, TEMPTRESS MOON is exquisitely photographed, though this image transfer on this release is a bit grainy at times. It is a contemporary 'Romeo & Juliet,' with gangland influences and wonderful period settings. The lovemaking -- while pushing the boundaries in a mainstream foreign release -- is relatively tame but beautiful captured with powerful emotion and vivid lighting. At points, the film feels almost like a narrative valentine to the family and the viewer; but don't look for any happy ending here.

The ending poses a small handful of tight flashbacks that gives new meaning to some of the events depicted in the film, defining more greatly the motivations of the main characters, once again demonstrating how meaningful small decisions are in the pursuit of daily life and how tragic their consequences may inevitably be in the day, months, and years ahead.

Although the film ran into distribution problems with the Chinese government quite possibly over themes of politics, drug use, and open sexuality, TEMPTRESS MOON played to great enthusiasm at the 1996 Cannes Film Festival - where it was nominated for the Golden Palm - as well as New York's 1996 Film Festival. At the Hong Kong Film Awards, Gong Li received a nomination for Best Actress, Hap Kwai Wong received a nomination for Best Art Direction, and Christopher Doyle received a nomination for Best Cinematography.

While it arguably may be a bit hard to follow at times - the film is replete with flashbacks that, in their bid to advance the story, end up only adding unnecessary weight to the experience - TEMPTRESS MOON nonetheless delivers as a truly spectacular visual experience that should not be missed. It provides a wealth of rich images, all supporting a storyline far more complex than it need be, and it sports two wonderful performances - Leslie Cheung and Gong Li, reunited from Kaige's earlier FAREWELL, MY CONCUBINE.

In many ways, Chen Kaige's follow-up to his "Farewell My Concubine" is a more daring effort than anything the famed Chinese stylist has done. It's also, unfortunately, one of his more narratively muddled ones. Reteaming Chen with "Concubine" stars Cheung and Gong Li, "Temptress Moon" tells the story of a 1920s-era Shanghai hustler named Zhongliang (Cheung) ordered by his "boss" to return to the Pang family compound where, as a boy, Zhongliang suffered humiliation and abuse at the hands of his sister's (He Saifei) opium-addicted husband Zhengda (Zhou Yemang), the Pang family heir.

When the time comes, however, the brain-dead Zhengda is unable to assume the mantle of family leadership, forcing his sister Ruyi (Gong Li) to take charge instead. It's under these circumstances that Zhongliang is sent back to seduce Ruyi as a prelude to kidnapping and ransom. But the mission is not so easily accomplished. Long-forgotten memories and family secrets return like a fever, shaking Zhongliang's increasingly conflicted conscience and hurtling the would-be lovers toward their inescapable fate.

From a purely technical standpoint, "Temptress Moon" is one of the most beautiful films ever made. Together with cinematographer Christopher Doyle, Chen has spun a magnificently seductive fever-dream torn from the characters' own opium-induced delirium. Dollies, cranes and steadicams navigate the labyrinthine world of colonial Shanghai with acrobatic agility, underscoring Ruyi's and Zhongliang's seemingly endless search for stability and equilibrium. But the maze-like plotting often works against the film, veering into so many tangential subplots and peripheral events that the point of it all often seems lost. To Chen's credit, such shortcomings don't ultimately sabotage his message or lessen its visceral impact. If only the story as a whole had been as meticulously conceived and executed as its climax, Chen might well have found himself the recipient of a second Palmed'Or.

Still banned in China for its rather explicit treatment of sex and opium addiction, "Temptress Moon" is ultimately less shocking than provocative by American standards. At once compelling, disturbing, challenging and beguiling, it's unlikely any two people will see or read "Temptress Moon" in quite the same way. And that might be the whole point.