Gun gun hong chen

The film at whole is very predictable but brigitte lin's performance, her charm and grace makes it at least a one time watch for any fan. The directing and cinematography is good but the soundtrack seems mediocre which could have easily increased the beauty of this film. Maggie cheung also has a prominent role and plays her part beautifully as always. The chemistry and screen presence of both the female leads makes this movie worthwhile to watch.

"Red Dust" tells us the story of writer Shao Hua (Lin Ching Hsia) during the period 1935-1950. And it does it in an excellent way! The story starts from a very personal point of view, by depicting the days when Shao Hua used to write alone, locked up in the attic by her father, then slowly unfolds to the wider reality of a country suffering poverty and persecution, because of the Japanese first, because of the clashes between the nationalists and the communists later. However, it's not a sad movie: Shao Hua has love and friendship to care about (although they do enter in contrast, as she comes in contact both with people working for the Japanese and with "partisans"), and indeed the movie is more of a journey of her heart, as she climbs through the ups and downs of life, with moments of laughter and glee following or giving way to moments of disappointment and insight. Alongside, as she is a writer, we also get to see as the steps of her existence influence the developing of her novel.

This, added to some wonderful movie stills, a pleasant and rich soundtrack, great expressiveness from the two leads Lin Ching Hsia & Maggie Cheung and a careful view on China's historical background, make "Red Dust" a must see! 10/10

It's been described as a Chinese 'Dr. Zhivago', but despite an impressive sweep to the crowd scenes this turbulent, 50-year love story between a single-minded writer and a wartime collaborator might well have been called 'Red Soap'. The romance itself is handled with admirable understatement and delicacy, but everything else about this typically energetic, over-the-top Hong Kong production is larger than life, with performances, photography, and a music score pitched near the threshold of hysteria. Director/co-writer Yim Ho tosses everything together into the slowly boiling pot (including a syrupy love song), and the perhaps too busy scenario gives the film a careless, slapdash look (at one point a crew member fanning artificial snow onto the set is clearly visible in a window reflection). Predictably, it all ends in tears, but the lump-in-the-throat epilogue at least adds a graceful coda to the otherwise overwrought melodrama.