Grade: B+

After more than a decade Chinese master Zhang Yimou returns to the wuxia genre in which he excelled with “Hero” and “House of Flying Daggers,” and scores a third triumph. “Shadow” is a luminously gorgeous visual experience, and though parts of it are talky and theatrical, at its best it’s a remarkable accomplishment.

The narrative, loosely based on a part of the Three Kingdoms epic. is one of court intrigue in the third century A.D.. The fortress city of Jingzhou has been lost to General Yang (Hu Jun) as the result of a one-on-one combat with Commander Yu (Deng Chao) of the Kingdom of Pei. Yu was so terribly wounded in the fight that back home he retreated into seclusion in caverns hidden in the palace complex.

But his machinations did not cease; he has replaced himself at court with a double, Jing (also played by Deng Chao), whom he continues to train in martial combat. Only Yu’s wife Xiao (Sun Li) is complicit in the substitution.

All of this is revealed gradually: the film begins with Jing, in the guise of Yu, announcing to King Peiliang (Zheng Kai) that he has challenged Yang to a rematch to decide the city’s fate. The monarch, ostensibly a cowardly, frightened young man, is aghast: his policy has been to maintain an alliance with the seemingly invincible general. So he sends his chief minister Lu Yan (Wang Jingchun) to Jingzhou to propose the marriage of his beautiful but independent-minded sister Quingping (Guan Xiaotong) to Yang’s son Ping (Leo Wu). When the general responds by suggesting that she become his son’s concubine instead, it infuriates her.

Meanwhile the real Yu has been plotting with Captain Tian (Wang Qianyuan), who sees his king’s policies as misguided, to stage a backdoor assault on Jingzhou while the fight between Jing/Yu and Yang serves as a distraction. The dangerous assault will, it’s been decided at Xiao’s suggestion, utilize a new combat technique combining masculine and feminine elements, in which the soldiers will employ umbrellas outfitted with iron blades, which require some decidedly womanly moves when wielded but, as is shown in one especially astonishing scene, can also be used as virtual sleds to speed down a slick mountain street.

That sequence is physically possible, however improbable it appears in narrative terms, because of one of the film’s constants: the rain, which is unremitting, and gives everything a sheen. The visual side of “Shadow” is almost incredibly beautiful: unlike many of Zhang’s films—“Hero” a prime example—it uses bright colors barely at all, instead mimicking, in shimmering shades of whites, blacks and grays, traditional Chinese ink-and-brush painting. Ma Kwong Wing’s production design also makes ample use of the yin-yang symbol which, for example, fills the floor of the cavern where Yu trains Jing, as well as that of the bamboo tower high above a gorge on which Jing and Yang do battle. (The masculine-feminine motif is emphasized in the simultaneous one-on-one fight between Ping and Quingping.) Of equal symbolic significance is another motif—the zither duets of Yu and Xiao, which possess both a collaborative and an adversarial aspect.

Complementing the ravishing work of Ma Kwong Wing are the flamboyant costumes of Chen Minzheng, especially the court gowns that swirl luminously in the glistening widescreen cinematography of Zhao Xiaoding. When one combines all the technical contribution with Zhang’s operatic direction (complemented by the superb action choreography of Dee Dee, to which Zhou Xiaolin’s editing adds panache), the result is a film that can take one’s breath away.

In narrative terms, one must admit, “Shadow” will require some effort for western audiences, who are unlikely to be aware of the tale from the Three Kingdoms epic. The opening sequences, which take place before the Yu/Zing imposture is revealed, may confuse viewers, especially when it comes to the reluctance of “Yu” and Xiao to perform their music at the king’s request—something explained only later on. They may also be bewildered by the twists in the final act, in which characters who had seem fixed now become very different people.

The highly theatrical ambience naturally necessities a broad performance style from the cast. That’s especially evident in the dual work of Deng, whose subdued turn as Jing is in radical contrast to his hysterical one as Yu. He’s almost outdone in that respect by Zheng, whose king is wildly emotional. The other actors are less ostentatiously histrionic, but could hardly be called subtle; that’s not the approach Zhang has taken to the material.

Zhang’s treatment of the ancient Chinese legend may be narratively complicated and unbelievably florid, but it’s a completely ravishing visual experience.

Grade: B+

The third—and presumably final—installment of the animated franchise that began as long ago as 2010 and continued into a 2014 sequel (as well as a TV series) retains much of the charm and excitement of the first two films, and works hard, if not always successfully, to replicate their sense of wonder and humor. One can carp at a few of the choices writer-director Dean DeBlois makes, but overall “How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World” is a satisfying conclusion to one of the better animated series of recent years.

The film opens with young hero Hiccup (voiced by Jay Baruchel) having assumed the position of chief in Berk, now a happy place where humans and dragons live together in harmony (his departed father Stoick, voiced by Gerard Butler, appears occasionally in flashback). He and his crew of stalwart supporters, led by his obvious romantic interest Astrid (America Ferrera), are engaged in an assault on an enclave of dragon poachers in order to free the captive beasties and take them back to Berk where they’ll be safe.

That’s the first of the big set-pieces in the movie, and the weakest of them, being staged rather clumsily and shot in very dark hues. But things quickly improve visually and the later major visual sequences are handled with greater aplomb.

These are connected with the script’s overriding story threads. One is the intervention of master dragon hunter Grimmel (F. Murray Abraham), who takes aim at Hiccup’s pet-partner Toothless, presumed to be the last of the male Night Furies—a species the villain is devoted to wiping out. His scheme to do that involves introducing Toothless to a female Light Fury that he’s already captured—thereby encouraging a romance that will divert Toothless from his bromance with Hiccup and induce both of them to make mistakes.

The dragon dalliance allows the animators to show off in a long courtship routine, some of it on land (where Toothless, with some silly Cyrano-like help from Hiccup, does a ridiculous dance) and some in the air, where the two dragons soar in tandem. Juxtaposed with the sequence is the periodic banter between Hiccup and Astrid, who are no less destined to be together.

The other memorable moment comes when Hiccup finally comes upon the secret valley where all the species of dragons live together in what appears to be absolute contentment and security—a place he wants to move Berk to. (How all the critters survive in such a closed environment in a question never posed, but set it aside.) The images of the place are absolutely resplendent, comparable to the shimmering, kaleidoscopic undersea world conjured up in “Aquaman.”

There’s one more big action sequence—the inevitable face-off between Hiccup and Grimmel—but it reverts to the more prosaic approach of the opening free-the-dragons sequence. It’s perfectly fine in its own way, but comes across as obligatory rather than inspired. Happily it’s followed by a conclusion that, while sentimental, serves to end the series on a note that shows the depth of the bond that has developed between boy and beast and the power of love. And it’s followed by an irresistible coda set in the not-too-distant future.

There are some elements to “Hidden World” that fall a mite short. While most of the secondary characters—including Hiccup’s mother Valka (Cate Blanchett), Eret (Kit Harrington), Gobber (Craig Ferguson), and even the little hobgobblers, the movie’s version of the minions—make solid contributions—others are given entirely too much screen time. Snotlout (Jonah Hill) is one of them, but even he pales beside the goofy twins Ruffnut (Kristen Wiig) and Tuffnut (Justin Rupple). All are meant to be irritating—there are even jokes about it; but the jibes prove all too accurate. The emphasis on them also leads to a slightly overlong running-time; editor John Carr might have considered a bit of trimming.

Even those characters’ all-too-frequent intrusions, however, can’t seriously damage the movie’s quality. From both a narrative and a visual perspective, “How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World” is a patent winner.