PeachBlossomGoddess

The Legend of the Female General is a hilarious drama that I enjoyed immensely. Its entire premise is a crater-sized plot hole, so if you can't suspend disbelief big time, best give this one a skip. The title makes its mythic, Hua Mulan-esque aspirations obvious (Mulan, of course, being a legend herself). The indisputably romantic and lyrical Chinese title, 锦月如歌 (Song of the Brocade Moon), makes it clear this is more Art of Love than Art of War. And in that, it delivers in spades as a sword-grabbing saga that will tickle your bones.

For me, the unwitting humor here far surpasses that of A Dream Within A Dream (which I dropped), which tried so hard to be a parody it was more stressful than amusing. This drama comically embraces a bunch of the best, most incredulously well-loved tropes with abandon and just runs with them, not caring if they are well-stitched together. While I found it a nonsensical riot, I totally understand why it's been panned.

To preserve their military status, the (dumb-dumb) He family swaps out their sickly, all-important male child, He Rufei, for their robust and completely expendable daughter, He Yan. They couldn't find a big and tall girl, so they made do with a short, scrawny, and chesty one. She grows up wearing a mask and achieves glory as the redoubtable General Feihong, whose military successes are so awesome they make the real He Rufei wish he'd been born short and scrawny sans boobs. He stages an epic recovery at the height of her fame and swoops in to steal her glory. Of course, no one notices the one-head height difference because this kingdom is a classic Darwin 101 example of a state doomed to extinction. After reclaiming his name, he arranges for her to fall off a cliff, evidently unaware that no one dies falling off a cliff in a Chinese drama.

Disguised as a man, He Yan later joins the Yezhou army led by the no less renowned General Feihong—her old classmate, Xiao Jue. Suspecting "he" is a spy, Xiao Jue gives "him" the hot side-eye many times until the thrust of his mighty sword is parried by a pair of boobies. Yes, shame on me! I loved all the dirty jokes and naughty-but-nice innuendo that had me gawking at my big-screen TV with a stupid, lovestruck grin. I wasn't bothered at all that the cross-dressing "pretty boy" He Yan went full-on girly on Xiao Jue with her shameless flirting and half-innocent innuendo.

The truth is, I don't dislike trashy idol romance dramas when they are made like this. Most of the time, I drop them because I've seen the leads go through the same tired motions with so many other pairings that the chemistry feels contrived. There is nothing more nauseating than the dreadful dead-duck stare that so many third-rate traffic actors try to sell as infatuation. This drama works because I was hooked by Zhou Ye and Cheng Lei's chemistry. I saw an explosion of sparks every time he side-eyed her and she ogled him right back like she was ready to misbehave. True story: after the hot moment of enlightenment in Episode 4, my old big-screen TV literally died on me, and I had to rush-order a new one.

I won't bother shredding the plot and logic holes—there are lots of them, and far more articulate voices have already gone to town on it. Undeniably, the compelling chemistry and strong portrayals by both Cheng Lei and Zhou Ye carry this drama, bolstered by solid performances all around. I was charmed by how naturally Li Qing brought to life the face-swapped role of Cheng Lisu, and his romance with Song Tao Tao was cute and funny. Chu Zhao is the best-written, most multifaceted character in the story. The conflict between his ambition and his morality is well-played by Zhang Kangle. I had to laugh at how Bai Shu totally hammed up his cartoon villain with wildly exaggerated facial expressions; he seemed to be having the time of his life.

By far the strongest aspect of this drama are the fight scenes—they are brutally intense, fast-paced, and thrilling. This director is known for problematic storytelling, but his action choreography is really something else. Some of the war tactics are creative takes on famous Three Kingdoms battles.

As for Zhou Ye, she is a total firecracker who absolutely lights up the fiery scenes as delightfully as she owns the cute, girly bits. On the surface, she may not look the part of a female general, but she certainly acted it in the fight scenes. Too many idol actors shirk hardcore action, daring to pass off a few showy twirls and wimpy sleeve-swats as fighting. As He Yan, Zhou Ye really wielded her spear and sword powerfully and vehemently; the strain of demanding moves was visible on her features. She is a professionally trained ballerina—incredibly strong and athletic despite her size. Not all generals have to be tall and physically imposing; many famous ones were more brain than brawn. Zhuge Liang of Three Kingdoms fame was skinny and runty with mediocre combat skills, wandering into battle with his fan. While the fearsome Cao Cao was a killing machine, both he and the unbeatable Yue Fei were allegedly quite short and possibly even stocky. Oh, the preconceived notions we have! What pains me most is that no one asks why cast such a tall actor as Bai Shu as He Rufei instead of why cast Zhou Ye as He Yan.

I'm not trying to deflect the well-deserved criticisms. This is indubitably not an award-winning masterpiece, but it won my heart with its cheeky adult humor, melting romance, gripping action, and overall engaging rehash of cheesy tropes. Even with my 9.5+ rated dramas, I'm not much of a re-watcher. But this is one of the few trashy gems with scenes I can see myself replaying when I'm bored. Happy to rate this 8/10 as a top-tier guilty pleasure.