Two and a half years in the making, this new effort by auteur Yonfan (whose last film was Bishonen) is a unique and at times dazzling invocation of the decadence and decaying beauty of the old China in the early part of the 20th century. Set in Suzhou of the 1930s, the plot is centered around the lives of two women: Jade (played by Japanese actress Rie Miyazawa in a well-dubbed performance) is a former songstress who has become the fifth wife of an aristocrat who is wasting away his days in isolated splendour, smoking opium and living in a dreamworld of China's past opulence and glory while his fortune and family are crumbling all around him. Lonely and depressed in her isolated existence, Jade strikes up a friendship with her husband's female cousin, Lan (Joey Wang), a teacher at a girls school who embraces modernity while still being deeply moved by and longing for China's past beauty and splendor.

Their friendship develops into an intense relationship that forms the emotional center of a plot that involves basically cheap romance fiction cliches but nevertheless avoids deteriorating into melodrama, as it unfolds in a manner that steers away from predictable formula. Much is only hinted at or left unsaid, including the sexual nature of the two women's relationship. Daniel Wu is billed as the male lead, but he doesn't show up until the second half of the film, and his relationship with one of the women remains a side story that is never fully explored.

However, retelling the plot misses the true essence of this film, which is a visual delight driven more by atmosphere, ambience and a loving attention to period details (costumes, props) than by a straight-forward narrative. The first half of the movie in particular has almost a meandering, dreamlike quality, as if filtered through the haze of opium smoke that seems to surround and envelop the lush settings of the aristocratic household. Themes of decay are everywhere - servants are selling off family heirlooms, and the protagonists are strangely paralyzed by nostaligic longing for a world that seems to be vanishing forever. This longing finds its strongest expression in the extensive use of Chinese Opera music. The first part of the movie almost borders on being a musical, with characters constantly breaking into song interludes. These moments are well-integrated into the story, however, and while it may at first be somewhat off-putting to Western viewers not totally versed in the intricacies of this artform, it succeeds in creating a unique and very poetic spell that is further supported by gorgeous cinematography.

Many of the songs (as well as the movie title) are taken from a well-known Ming Dynasty masterpiece and are presented with an endearing, melancholic earnestness. In presenting these interludes, the film at times almost reverts to a stageplay, forming one prettily arranged tableau after another. The camera often stays set at a discreet distance, letting the scene play out without forcing the viewer's perspective. Yonfan doesn't quite remain as detached as many of Hou Hsiao-hsien's movies (Flowers of Shanghai comes to mind), though, and as the movie progresses, the camera movement becomes increasingly lively.

In the second half of the film, the settings become more modern, leaving behind the world of Chinese opera and hence the soundtrack moves towards more Western-influenced music, reminiscent of Michael Nyman's scores for Peter Greenaway films like Prospero's Books.

The lead actors are convincing throughout, with Rie Miyazawa being particularly imnpressive in the first half of the movie. Joey Wang comes to the fore mainly in the second half, and she handles her role with subtlety and passion. If this indeed turns out to be her last appearance in a movie, then she has left the stage in admirable fashion and will be missed.

In the end, the movie evokes a lost world of beauty and decadence, leaving many hauntingly gorgeous images lingering in the viewer's mind. As a purely aesthetic experience, the film succeeds in impressive fashion, although one would have hoped for a somewhat stronger narrative to accompany all this visual splendor. In that regard, it probably doesn't measure up to some of Zhang Yimou's early works such as Ju Dou and Raise the Red Lantern, but it is nevertheless a satisfying achievement and definitely ranks as one of the best films of the year.

The VCD is exquisitely packaged, letterboxed, with Dolby Digital 2.0 Mandarin soundtrack and very readable subtitles.