BEIJING: Show-stopping scenes of regal power and wirework martial arts in Chinese period dramas might be all the rage in the West but the success stories of these best-selling films have provoked an uneasy debate at home about what Chinese blockbusters should be all about.

Described by some critics as “feasts for the eyes”, these big-budget hits have been slammed for leaving the audiences hungry for substance and deprived of soul. Their artfully scripted scenes of carnage and violence have made some lament that even lowbrow Hollywood films are better at passing judgement and affirming the victory of good over evil.

Since Taiwanese director Ang Lee’s 2001 film Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon drew the curtain on a China of mystery and imagery and went on to win an Oscar, three of mainland China’s most-renowned directors have succumbed to the allure of directing opulent period dramas that feature imperial power struggles and captivating kung-fu fights.

Zhang Yimou, perhaps the best known of all living Chinese directors, rolled out two big-budget films, Hero in 2002 and the House of Flying Daggers in 2004, both affirming his reputation as maestro of the visual.

Hero dazzled the eye with half a dozen hues, breaking the story of an attempted imperial assassination into several cameos of colour and retelling it as many times as seen by the film’s main characters.

Hero became the best-selling Chinese film ever. The House of Flying Daggers for its part, showcased breathtaking martial arts flicks. While not as grandiose as Hero, the House of Flying Daggers firmly established the Chinese industry’s potential to compete with Hollywood in artistic talent and audience-drawing sets.

Last year saw three new period dramas. Zhang unveiled another court spectacle, the 45 million US dollar The Curse of the Golden Flower, said to be the biggest-budget Chinese film of all time.

The new film takes Zhang’s talent for staging intricate battle scenes and elaborate ancient rituals to dangerous heights, threatening to smother all intended subtleties under a weight of gold finery. Although it opened in December, The Curse became the top-grossing film of the year. It is projected to rake in more than 32 million dollars in domestic theatres -- a record for the Chinese film industry.

Zhang’s success in the genre of costume drama has not gone unchallenged. His equally famous colleague, Chen Kaige, released earlier last year The Promise -- another big budget film that ventures into ostentatious fight scenes and attempts to rival Zhang’s imaginary ancient China with its improbable vistas.

The Banquet -- a Chinese interpretation of Shakespeare’s Hamlet, directed by the country’s most popular commercial film director, Feng Xiaogang, is the last of these mega-productions of imperial grandeur where violence and bloodshed are made controversially aesthetic.

While these big budget historical films have proven the commercial viability of China’s film industry, they have also drawn the critics’ ire for establishing a winning formula with foreign audiences but are regarded as clichéd views of ancient China.

“Foreigners don’t want to see films about modern China,” muses Wang Wu, one of Zhang Yimou’s screenwriters. “They don’t care about our modern life because there is nothing original in it.

Ultimately, it is not a question of what these big films got wrong, reflects commentator Chen Danqing. “It is about the lack of thriving and diverse cultural scene in China where only these historical blockbusters get the nod and the money.” —Dawn/The IPS News Service