Pupusa
Terra Firma
This review may contain spoilers
I have this weird love-hate with this series. Despite its flaws, it’s still one of the better palace intrigue stories out there. So I put it on my “guilty pleasure list” and endure the bad for the sake of the good.
To start with the good, this has all the elements of the addictive story. You see many nasty palace denizens plotting against our heroine, Wei Yingluo. Just when you think Yingluo is trapped, she turns the table on her enemies and knocks them down ten notches. It’s very gratifying to watch, especially when it cycles along at a steady pace, using a formula that feeds into the addiction center of our brains.
The near fatal flaw with this series is its absurdity. Case in point, Yingluo exacts revenge on a consort by throwing molten iron on her. Someone else adds fecal water to the iron so it will infect her wounds, ensuring to a slow and painful death. Since bacteria could not possibly survive in molten metal (a thousand plus degrees temperature here), the entire scheme is ridiculous. Equally ridiculous is the lighting rod scheme that struck the right person at exactly the right time. These are the kind of things that defy logic and insult the viewers’ intelligence. But we can still enjoy the show, as long as we accept it for what it is: mindless entertainment.
Years from now, people will still remember the show for its costumes. The muted color palette is very pleasing to the eyes. The traditional kingfisher feathers, velvet flowers, and the embroideries are beyond beautiful. The designers create a very distinctive look and authentic feel that sets this far apart from any other Qing era series. The set pieces are luxurious, too, although some of the rooms look sterile and not lived-in.
Notable performances are from Qin Lan and Charmaine Sheh. Qin Lan has depth as the gentle, virtuous empress who is actually broken on the inside. Charmaine is a master at facial expressions and the slightest shift in her smile alone can convey so many different emotions. Her Xian Fei is technically the main villain, but she is extremely sympathetic. I find myself rooting for her half the time, simply because life is cruel to her and she has to be cruel to survive.
The weakest link here is our leading lady, Wu Jinyan. She is given an interesting character, one that is clever and loyal, but with a ruthless streak. She comes across as this reckless girl who shows an attitude to her masters and pushes the boundaries of rules and etiquettes. In the strict Forbidden Palace, this attitude would get her killed a thousand times over. I have a hard time believing she’s that lucky or smart enough get away with it every time. Wu herself doesn’t have much range or subtlety to her acting. When she tries to act playful, it comes off as stilted. Worse, she has “dead fish eyes,” eyes that are large but mostly expressionless. However, she does look unique in period clothing and seems to have potential. Charmaine was awful in her first series, too, and look how far she came now.
The men’s acting are fine, nothing memorable in a story dominated by women. Fu Heng is your stereotypical second male lead who loves our heroine devotedly and unconditionally, as if there are no other good woman in the world. I’m glad they didn’t make Qian Long a jerk or a fool easily manipulated by his wives.
So after watching so many women fighting over one guy, we have to ask: which of his wives does Qian Long really love? No one, I suppose. As Qian Long himself said, his father trained him to be good ruler, and a good ruler cannot rule with his heart. He was raised not to care much about any woman. That’s why he greatly favors Yingluo, because she is the only wife who does not demand his love. She puts no pressure on him and does her best to amuse him. She asks only for gifts and favors - things at are easy for him to give. Does that cheapen their relationship? No, because there is real affection there. For Yingluo, the emperor represents the practical, while Fu Heng represents the ideal. You can marry a Qian Long, but good luck finding a Fu Heng in real life. That man only exists in dreams.
To start with the good, this has all the elements of the addictive story. You see many nasty palace denizens plotting against our heroine, Wei Yingluo. Just when you think Yingluo is trapped, she turns the table on her enemies and knocks them down ten notches. It’s very gratifying to watch, especially when it cycles along at a steady pace, using a formula that feeds into the addiction center of our brains.
The near fatal flaw with this series is its absurdity. Case in point, Yingluo exacts revenge on a consort by throwing molten iron on her. Someone else adds fecal water to the iron so it will infect her wounds, ensuring to a slow and painful death. Since bacteria could not possibly survive in molten metal (a thousand plus degrees temperature here), the entire scheme is ridiculous. Equally ridiculous is the lighting rod scheme that struck the right person at exactly the right time. These are the kind of things that defy logic and insult the viewers’ intelligence. But we can still enjoy the show, as long as we accept it for what it is: mindless entertainment.
Years from now, people will still remember the show for its costumes. The muted color palette is very pleasing to the eyes. The traditional kingfisher feathers, velvet flowers, and the embroideries are beyond beautiful. The designers create a very distinctive look and authentic feel that sets this far apart from any other Qing era series. The set pieces are luxurious, too, although some of the rooms look sterile and not lived-in.
Notable performances are from Qin Lan and Charmaine Sheh. Qin Lan has depth as the gentle, virtuous empress who is actually broken on the inside. Charmaine is a master at facial expressions and the slightest shift in her smile alone can convey so many different emotions. Her Xian Fei is technically the main villain, but she is extremely sympathetic. I find myself rooting for her half the time, simply because life is cruel to her and she has to be cruel to survive.
The weakest link here is our leading lady, Wu Jinyan. She is given an interesting character, one that is clever and loyal, but with a ruthless streak. She comes across as this reckless girl who shows an attitude to her masters and pushes the boundaries of rules and etiquettes. In the strict Forbidden Palace, this attitude would get her killed a thousand times over. I have a hard time believing she’s that lucky or smart enough get away with it every time. Wu herself doesn’t have much range or subtlety to her acting. When she tries to act playful, it comes off as stilted. Worse, she has “dead fish eyes,” eyes that are large but mostly expressionless. However, she does look unique in period clothing and seems to have potential. Charmaine was awful in her first series, too, and look how far she came now.
The men’s acting are fine, nothing memorable in a story dominated by women. Fu Heng is your stereotypical second male lead who loves our heroine devotedly and unconditionally, as if there are no other good woman in the world. I’m glad they didn’t make Qian Long a jerk or a fool easily manipulated by his wives.
So after watching so many women fighting over one guy, we have to ask: which of his wives does Qian Long really love? No one, I suppose. As Qian Long himself said, his father trained him to be good ruler, and a good ruler cannot rule with his heart. He was raised not to care much about any woman. That’s why he greatly favors Yingluo, because she is the only wife who does not demand his love. She puts no pressure on him and does her best to amuse him. She asks only for gifts and favors - things at are easy for him to give. Does that cheapen their relationship? No, because there is real affection there. For Yingluo, the emperor represents the practical, while Fu Heng represents the ideal. You can marry a Qian Long, but good luck finding a Fu Heng in real life. That man only exists in dreams.
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