All movies in the end are love stories none more so than House of Flying Daggars. With that title, you would expect a return to Kung Fu theatre. To wit, "Damn! Those house of house of flying daggar dudes rank right up there with five deadly venoms!" Alas, it is not happening. I was bored to tears by this movie. The last time someone throwing side kicks up some dude's head put me to sleep, David Carridine was walking on rice paper. I think the art house kung fu flick is now dead. Bring back Bruce Lee. More martial less art!
2 of 5 stars.
2 of 5 stars.