Here’s the problem when critically analyzing a film with Maggie Cheung: how can the art be poor when literally the prettiest and most charismatic woman to ever exist is the star?
I ain’t saying that The Seventh Curse is a bad film—far from it—but how much of my enjoyment comes from seeing Maggie Cheung (who is, again, the most talented, beautiful, flawless, perfect, spellbinding performer to ever exist on screen) throw a grenade after watching a man get eaten alive by maggots?
Here’s the problem when critically analyzing a film with Maggie Cheung: how can the art be poor when literally the prettiest and most charismatic woman to ever exist is the star?
I ain’t saying that The Seventh Curse is a bad film—far from it—but how much of my enjoyment comes from seeing Maggie Cheung (who is, again, the most talented, beautiful, flawless, perfect, spellbinding performer to ever exist on screen) throw a grenade after watching a man get eaten alive by maggots?