Thursday, August 07, 2003
Copyright © Las Vegas Mercury

Film: Gone with the Zen

The Legend of Suriyothai is more sleeping Siamese than crouching tiger

By Robert Chancey

Despite the mewling protestations of Bill Maher and Rush Limbaugh, the cult of the Woman Warrior is thriving. The evidence is inescapable and exhilarating: Xena, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the vampy spy Jennifer Garner plays on "Alias," Carrie-Anne Moss in The Matrix, real-life right-wing lunatic Ann Coulter and Zhang Ziyi in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Strong women are slaying suitors with their delectable beauty and vanquishing the enemy with their enviable intelligence and their superior physical prowess.

Undeterred by rigid social classifications and the supposed omnipotence of testosterone, this new breed of female rules her domain because she is righteously unapologetic. Flaunting their beauty--even using it as a weapon--and nonchalant about their superiority, these modern Amazons have inspired a younger generation of women to re-imagine their untapped potential.

Unfortunately, they also have spawned some ignoble imitators. The women of Charlie's Angels are fraudulent floozies--bimbos with black belts. And now, a Thai prince (and modestly talented filmmaker) and Francis Ford Coppola are unleashing The Legend of Suriyothai, a visually spectacular, but flaccid epic that is marketed as another Crouching Tiger, but is merely a sleeping Siamese--a clumsy, neutered furball lacking fangs and fury.

Originally a three-hour epic directed by Prince Chatri Chalerm Yukol and written by Yukol and Sunait Chutintaranond, it was deemed too impenetrable for Western audiences. So, American distributor Coppola trimmed it to two hours of exasperating insignificance. (Apparently, he has no problem eliminating the extraneous filler from an Asian film while burdening his director's cut of Apocalypse Now with an additional 30 minutes of unnecessary footage. Note to Francis: Leave the editing room and focus your energies on your exceptional winery.)

Based on genuine 16th century Siamese history and given a vaguely feminist slant, Legend purports to tell the story of Suriyothai (Piyapas Bhirombhakdi), a Siamese princess who inspired the royal army to defeat Burmese invaders in 1548. Portraying palace intrigue in the Thai kingdom Ayuthaya from 1528 to 1548, the movie offers only a brief glimpse of Suriyothai's life, and devotes most of its 142 minutes to the actual King Chairacha (Pongpat Wachirabunjong) and Srisudachan (Mai Charoenpura), the scheming consort who cuckolded him and later usurped his throne. Suriyothai acquires her legendary status only at the film's mercilessly extended conclusion; the rest of the film, she is raising children and advising her spineless husband, Lord Tien (Sarunyoo Wongkrchang), about the Machiavellian harridan who is stealing his brother's throne.

Though it suggests the work of Japanese master Akira Kurosawa with its sumptuous palatial settings, the maniacal ambitions of its main characters and its emphasis on grandiose battle sequences, it has none of the depth of Ran or The Seven Samurai. The characters seem too timidly Buddhist to possess the necessary bloodlust that would fuel their nefarious deeds. Also, Yukol's battle scenes are confusing, poorly staged and lack the visceral charge of Kurosawa's cinematic carnage.

Even more disturbing, Yukol and Chutintaranond seem terribly conflicted about the vices and virtues of feminine power. Both Srisudachan and Suriyothai are smarter, stronger and more resourceful than their husbands. Only because history is written to legitimize the misdeeds of the victorious does Suriyothai achieve martyrdom.

But apparently, true human history does not interest Prince Yukol. Taking his dramatic cues from Gone with the Wind, he has made the history of his nation a tawdry soap opera populated by Regal Warriors and the Sassy Women Who Love Them.