Zhang Yimou is the most famous Chinese director of all time, but even he cannot be sure to get away with social criticism after the clampdowns against Jack Ma, Hong Kong activists and CoVid critics. So what does a film maker do when he wants to address the frustration many of his compatriots feel? He resorts to satire, and sets the action comfortably far away in the past.
What starts out as a mystery concerning a missing letter no one must know quickly turns into slapstick comedy, and many viewers familiar with Zhang's epics feel let down by this because there isn't really any suspense. There are numerous twists and turns which seem haphazard and do not dive the plot forward. All the while the action is confined to the same palace grounds. It's totally understandable if this seems rather pointless and dull. And the Hamlet-like ending seems out of sync with the previous irony.
And yet, there is something beneath which only people familiar with authoritarian regimes will catch on to - the zeal of government officials to save their own skin with complete disregard to the task at hand. The characters constantly plot against each other and/or form allegiances to somehow emerge from the whole dilemma unscathed. It's mostly in vain because they are puppets of an invisible power - like in contemporary China, where no one can figure out the meaning behind the latest regulations, and where even the powerful thrive at the mercy of appearances. Even the title-giving poem, which could be seen as an allusion to Taiwan, is actually just another smokescreen for personal ambition.
If Zhang had made this into a straightforward mystery or wuxia, it could have been interpreted as subversive by the censors, but because it's farcical, it's all a joke so they can't. So even if the story is too convoluted and the black humor doesn't stick, it's probably still a breath of fresh air for many Chinese spectators and deserves its commercial success.
