When was the last time you applauded during a movie? Was it during Gene Kelly's magnificent dance number in Singing in the Rain, or immediately after the truck chase sequence in Raiders of the Lost Ark?

Don't be surprised if you find yourself spontaneously applauding 20 minutes into Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (Wo hu cang long) after the most exhilarating martial arts display ever recorded on celluloid. I sat, mouth open, in utter amazement at the screen. During this choreographed sequence, two lithe martial arts experts poetically fly and spin across the rooftops in breathtaking beauty. This sequence alone was worth the ticket price.

The actual plot takes a back seat to the characters, the cinematography, and the action scenes. But Crouching Tiger begins in ancient China. Warrior Li Mu Bai (Chow Yun-Fat) returns from a spiritual retreat early; he could not give up the unrequited love he has for Yu Shu Lien (Michelle Yeoh), who has the same thing for him.

Li Mu Bai has decided to give up his ideas of vengeance over the death of his master and to give up his invincible sword, the Green Destiny, to respected Sir Te (Sihung Lung). Since Yu Shu Lien is on her way to Beijing, she agrees to deliver the sword to Sir Te, at whose home she meets the adventurous and restless Jen (Zhang Ziyi), engaged to be married but really in love with another—a desert rogue named Lo (Chang Chen).

The first night, the sword is stolen and the magnificently choreographed gravity-defying contest ensues between Yu Shu Lien and the thief. When the sword isn't immediately recovered, Li Mu Bai arrives, decides that the evil Jade Fox (Cheng Pei Pei) that murdered his master is behind the theft, and decides that there is one more thing he must do before retiring from his warrior career.

The centerpieces of this genre have to be the martial arts sequences. Despite the high-wire acts above the roofs and trees, Ang Lee brings sense and sensibility to these energetic scenes. They are beautiful works of art that can stand on their own, but underplayed emotional content resonates within those pieces when you consider the combatants.

Restraint describes the performances of Chow Yun-Fat and Michelle Yeoh as well as any word I can think of. They express profound love, admiration, and yearning for one another without actually touching—through their eyes, and with subtle facial expressions.

Keep in mind that Crouching Tiger is a period piece from ancient China and that mythology and traditions are honored here. This is no modern American movie; lovers aren't leaping under the covers within minutes and grinding away for the cameras.

The love here is no less obvious without a physical consummation, and the spirituality behind it affected me to the point that I found myself wiping away some tears. Though the visual style is similar, Crouching Tiger is no nihilistic journey (like Lee's Ice Storm).

For a little more physical passion, look toward the younger lovers, in a flashback sequence in the desert that is a real knockout. Both Zhang Ziyi and Chang Chen demonstrate real energy during a cat-and-mouse game that pretends to be over Jen's comb, but really serves to bring the two lovers together.

Again, the choreographed fighting is a pleasure, but the camera also catches some wonderful facial expressions. Don't trust Ziyi's signals though—she's a tricky one. But the whole sequence adds charm and humanizes these characters.

Ang Lee has certainly brought together an impressive array of talent to bring Crouching Tiger to the screen. Of course, Chow Yun-Fat is the best-known star from Hong Kong, and he has presence and charisma that takes over everything he ever does. The beautiful Michelle Yeoh also carries a lot of clout, with 20 films showcasing her acting and martial arts skills. Both communicate more with their eyes than most American actors will ever do with their entire bodies, so look closely for the subtle nuances.

Then, there's the wizardry of martial arts choreographer Yuen Woo-Ping (The Matrix). Add the world's greatest cellist, Yo-Yo Ma, to the mix. I knew to expect a quality production.

I walked into the theater expecting to enjoy Crouching Tiger, but there was no way my collection of Bruce Lee DVDs could have prepared me for the visual feast that Ang Lee provides for us, or the poetic leaps over the rooftops, through the water, and into the trees.

Crouching Tiger is not without its detractors, but that's often the case even with highly touted films. After I'd heard a lot of positive buzz, the first negative reaction I heard was from another Scottsdale Film Society member, who told me she had seen it several months ago in Borneo and that "it wasn�t that great." A Taiwanese co-worker told me he had seen it last summer, and didn't like it because the martial arts scenes were too fantastic for him (and he is solidly based in reality and gravity). Another friend, fluent in Mandarin, related that the English subtitles are badly translated. Others who are far more familiar with the Hong Kong film genre tell me Lee's film is very derivative and hardly original.

Frankly, I don't give a damn. I'm not arguing perfection here. Even Citizen Kane and Vertigo have minor flaws discernable to nitpickers. All I know is that Crouching Tiger, with the excitement and poignancy it brings to the screen, works for me better than any film I saw in 2000. I'm looking forward to watching it again. It has certainly awakened interest in me for checking out more Hong Kong cult fare.

Should this be the case with other moviegoers, expect a surge of interest in the genre. We can only hope the wider exposure that Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon brings will serve to elevate Hollywood cinema, because it certainly needs a makeover. I'm hoping that Lee's film will prove to be the kick in the butt that our tired movie industry needs and will spark more releases of Asian fare in the states.