Ravens Mascot Tryouts Assessment The Ravens mascot tryouts assessment is an important event in the Ravens organization. The purpose of this event is to select a new mascot to represent the team at games and events. The assessment process typically involves a series of tasks and activities that test the candidates' physical abilities, enthusiasm, creativity, and ability to connect with the fans. One of the main goals of the assessment is to find a mascot who can bring energy and excitement to the games. This is why physical abilities are crucial in the evaluation process. Candidates are often required to perform various physical challenges, such as running, jumping, and dancing, to showcase their energy and athleticism.

The Movie Review: 'Curse of the Golden Flower'

What, exactly, is Zhang Yimou trying to tell us? After years of making films about intimate oppressions that frequently got him in trouble with Chinese censors (Ju Dou, Raise the Red Lantern), in 2002 Zhang made Hero, a dazzling wire-fu epic that was also an appalling paean to authoritarianism and the "One China" policy of subjugating Tibet and Taiwan. The film was widely seen as a temporary capitulation, a way to get the government off his back once and for all. And indeed, his next epic, House of Flying Daggers, eschewed such politicking, even making the (implicit) point that the loves and betrayals of individuals are of greater importance than the clash of imperial armies.

And yet, here we are again. Zhang's latest film, Curse of the Golden Flower (now out on DVD), does not kowtow to tyranny as explicitly as Hero, but the similarities are difficult to miss: another murderous emperor, another rebellious hero, another devious conspiracy--and another concluding moral that is, at best, morally dubious.

Perhaps in part because he recognizes his story's dark message, Zhang spends most of the film steeping us in actual colors so preternaturally vivid that one may be inclined to turn down the brightness on the TV. Zhang has always used color to dazzling effect (the bolts of dyed cloth unrolling from the sky in Ju Dou, for instance, or the blood-red leaves that whirl around the combatants in Hero), but here it is an experience bordering on ocular assault. The primary setting is an imperial palace in 928 A.D., a city-sized dwelling constructed largely of Chinese art glass--lemony yellows, watermelon pinks, candy-apple crimsons. If the set designers are to be believed, being a royal in the Tang dynasty was a lot like living inside a bag of Jolly Ranchers.

There's nothing sweet about palace life, however. Accused by the emperor (Chow Yun-Fat) of suffering from anemia, the empress (Gong Li) has for years been required to drink a medicinal tea every two hours. Lately, the bitter brew has been secretly supplemented, at the emperor's command, with a poisonous mushroom that will slowly debilitate and eventually kill her. The roots of his marital dissatisfaction are never explicit, but they presumably have something to do with the fact that for three years the empress has been sleeping with the crown prince (Liu Ye), the emperor's son from a previous marriage. Meanwhile, the emperor's second son (and empress's eldest), Prince Jai (Taiwanese pop star Jay Chou) has returned from the warfront, where he was sent by his father for an undisclosed infraction. Restored to his mother's bosom (the film's otherwise extravagant costume design takes a minimalist turn when it comes to bodices), Jai is soon enlisted into her conspiracy to overthrow his father. On the margins, the third and youngest prince (Junjie Qin) stews silently about the fact that no one (least of all the script) pays much attention to him.

Zhang lets the competing machinations unfold in high operatic style, with the characters alternating between venomous stares and wild, emotional outbursts. Less an action film than Hero and (much) less a romantic adventure than House of Flying Daggers, Curse of the Golden Flower instead fashions itself a kind of Shakespearian melodrama. Yet while the performances by all-star leads Gong Li and Chow Yun-Fat are powerful, they are archetypal in the bad sense: Neither ever really emerges as a distinct human being.

Although the plot features twists and counter-twists, none are quite so clever or surprising as those in Zhang's two earlier epics. There's also little in the way of striking combat scenes until halfway through, when a small army of black-clad assassins wielding scythes and grappling hooks begin rappelling from the sky like malignant spiders. They eventually clash with a larger army clad in gold, which itself winds up battling a still-larger army clad in silver. Such mass scenes--not only of soldiers, but also, earlier, of thousands of uniformed servants moving in unison--are among the most arresting of the film, but in an age increasingly jaded by digitized throngs they are fast losing their ability to awe.

Despite its flaws, Curse of the Golden Flower is a diverting enough film, just somewhat flat compared to Zhang's previous epics--a little too willing, perhaps, to let story and action cede the field to costume and set design. The film's conclusion, however, undermines any accumulated goodwill, offering a lesson both emotionally unsatisfying and morally troubling.

(Spoiler alert, for those who haven't already seen it coming.)

In the end, the rebellion plotted by the empress and Prince Jai is brutally put down by the emperor. He offers to spare Jai on one condition: That he personally serve his mother her poisonous medicine until her death. Jai instead commits suicide; the empress goes mad. With his other two sons also gone (one horribly beaten to death by himself), the emperor is left victorious but alone on his blood-soaked throne.

Taken on its own, this exceptionally unsatisfying ending might not suggest anything further. But for anyone who's seen Hero, the thematic parallels are evident. Unlike its predecessor, Curse of the Golden Flower is a familial rather than geopolitical drama, so its emperor is not presented as a genocidal despot. Yet, underneath the sympathetic, heavy-lies-the-crown portrayal (shades again of Hero) is a monster, whose murderous efforts against wives past and present (among other crimes) make Rudy Giuliani look like the ideal husband. Indeed, though the emperor is presented as in many ways more honorable than his adversaries, he is without question the most ruthless and homicidal character in the film.

Just as in Hero, this tyrant is nearly overthrown by a brave young warrior motivated by only the best of intentions (love of his homeland in the earlier film, love of his mother in the latter). But, once again, the heroic rebel is doomed not merely to death, but to a death the movie strongly suggests he deserves. Jai's demise may have a more tragic resonance than the perversely celebratory self-sacrifice of Nameless in Hero, but it is not presented as unjust. "I always knew this was not a battle I could have won," Jai declares, moments before killing himself.

Is this the message Zhang Yimou wishes to offer his country about the value of dissent? It's a difficult charge to direct at the one-time quasi-dissident, but one increasingly hard not, at least, to contemplate. Zhang has, after all, done awfully well for himself since the apparent political capitulation of Hero. That film was the highest-grossing in China of all-time; its echo, Curse of the Golden Flower, had a larger budget than any in the nation's history, enabling Zhang to employ thousands of extras and construct a gargantuan outdoor set of the palace grounds. Perhaps most impressive (and suggestive) of all, Zhang has been tapped to co-direct (with military choreographer Zhang Jigang) the opening ceremonies of the 2008 Beijing Olympics, a spectacle upon which the Chinese government could hardly place a higher premium. Is this incentive enough for him to tell stories that will make Beijing happy?

Twice in the first ten minutes of his film, Zhang announces the moral it will ultimately (and surprisingly) espouse. The first is an exchange between the empress and the crown prince, in which she asserts, "Many things can be changed," only to be corrected by the prince: "In fact, nothing can be changed." Moments later, the emperor lectures Prince Jai: "There are many things in Heaven and Earth, but you can only have what I choose to give you." Taken together, these scenes offer a clear message: Take what the state offers and be content, for nothing you do can ever change it. It's hard not to read this as a reassurance to China's authoritarian rulers--and an implicit warning to any who might oppose them.

The Home Movies List: A Fistful of Zhang

Ju Dou (1990). An intimate melodrama about a powerless woman and her lover, both enslaved to the cruel will of her husband. A political parable? The Chinese government evidently thought so, suppressing the film. It was nonetheless nominated, over Chinese objections, for Best Foreign Language Film.

Raise the Red Lantern (1991). Zhang's early masterpiece. Another story about the trapped wife of a powerful man, but this time the man himself is largely absent and her primary oppressor is the "system." Little wonder that this film, too, was initially banned from release in China despite another Oscar nomination.

Shanghai Triad (1995). Zhang's seventh movie, and seventh featuring Gong Li, with whom he conducted a long and public affair. The film, a somewhat haphazard tale about a gangster and his nightclub-singer moll, marked the end of the affair and the end (for a decade, anyway) of the collaboration.

Hero (2002). A beautiful, stirring film, Rashomon reimagined as a balletic kung fu flick. It's a terrible shame that something so lovely should conclude with the thump of a jackboot.

House of Flying Daggers (2004). Less jaw-dropping than Hero, perhaps, but equally beautiful and ultimately more human. Andy Lau and Takeshi Kineshiro are well-paired as yin and yang deputies, and Zhang Ziyi has never been lovelier.

This post originally appeared at TNR.com.

Spirituality & Practice

A visually sumptuous action drama by Zhang Yimou, who proves himself to be the master of this medium.

Film Review by Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat

Zhang Yimou (House of Flying Daggers) takes us on a magic carpet ride back to China in the tenth century, to the splendor of the Later Tang Dynasty. The Emperor's palace is covered with gold. He and his family are attended by countless courtiers, maids, and eunuchs. They glide through life on a sea of privileges and are honored in ceremonies and rituals. No expense is spared to make them comfortable, and beauty is a constant companion.

But as Zhang Yimou points out in a statement about his third action film, there is an old Chinese saying, "God and Jade adorn the outside, but within all is dark and rotting." Beauty can be nothing more than a cover for the beast beneath.

In the visually splendid opening sequence, the Emperor (Chow Yun Fat) and his son, Prince Jai (Jay Chou), are returning to the palace for the upcoming Chong Yang Festival. The entire court prepares for an elaborate welcoming ceremony that never happens. The energy and attention to detail is extraordinary as the horsemen ride in formation, and the women line up to help each other dress and apply their makeup. The only one who seems to not be in a festive mood is the Empress (Gong Li). Her husband has prescribed some herbal medicine for her anemia, yet she seems to be getting weaker as the months go on.

The Empress is also distraught to learn that the Crown Prince, Wan (Liu Ye), the son of the Emperor and his late first wife, wants to leave the Imperial Palace and take up residence in a provincial capital. He has fallen in love with the Imperial Doctor's daughter (Li Man), and he wants to escape the guilt and pressure he feels for a three-year love affair with the Empress, who is lonely and neglected.

Other secrets are eating away at the solidarity of the royal family. The Empress learns from a mysterious woman (Chen Jin), whose face is branded, that the reason for her illness is that the Imperial Doctor (Ni Dahong), at the request of the Emperor, has added a black mushroom to her medicine that will eventually destroy her mental faculties. The Empress' response is to go down fighting: she puts into motion a plan of revenge to take place during the Chong Yang Festival, a celebration of family, ancestry, and escape from evil fortune. Golden chrysanthemums are the symbol of the festival.

The only one who sympathizes with the plight of the Empress is Prince Jai who vows to support her when he learns of the Emperor's cruel scheme. The youngest son, Prince Yu (Qin Junjie), stands in the shadow of his two brothers and feels ignored. No one has taken into account his feelings, and he turns out to be filled with anger. The violence that ensues as the royal family begins the Chong Yang celebration takes place with the swiftness of a natural disaster. Assassins in black and soldiers clash in a fury of swords and arrows. Thousands of yellow chrysanthemums are drenched in the blood of the combatants.

The aha! quality of Curse of the Golden Flower does not come with our emotional identification with any character but emanates instead from our respect for the staggering amount of time and creativity that has gone into the sets, costumes, and action sequences. Zhang Yimou proves himself to be the Busby Berkeley of our times with his sumptuous orchestration of this visually dazzling film.

Special DVD features include a behind-the-scenes featurette “Secrets Within” and the Los Angeles Premiere.

Curse of the golden flower meaning

Set during the 10th century, Chow Yun-Fat plays the Emperor of the Tang dynasty. He has secretly been putting a poison into the medication of his wife, the Empress (Gong Li). She drinks her medicine every hour, but doesn�t understand why she�s not feeling better. The Emperor, it turns out, has a long history of using women, only to take severe methods of dispatching with them once he has lost interest. He cannot murder the Empress outright, though; her father is a king, and the Emperor�s power and wealth come from being married to her. She must appear to die of natural causes.

When the Empress discovers the poison plot, she approaches one of the three princes (all of whom were born to another woman and believe their natural mother to be dead). Crown Prince Wan (Liu Ye) is set to inherit the title someday, but can�t fathom his father�s actions. He agrees to help the Empress because he physically can�t stand to see her knowingly drink the poison. Middle prince Jai (Jay Chou) doesn�t react so favorably. He�s been having an incestuous affair with his stepmother, all while courting the daughter of the imperial doctor. He wants more responsibility and therefore does not want to get on his father�s bad side. The youngest prince is Yu (Qin Junjie), who seems out of the loop but is more observant than anyone gives him credit for. The Empress plans to bring her husband down during the Chrysanthemum Festival, an annual celebration. The Emperor, however, is very powerful and does not take kindly to having his power jeopardized, especially when his wife and one of his sons are behind it.

Curse of the Golden Flower has sex, violence, political intrigue, family drama, incest, sibling rivalry, betrayal, and revenge. Is it a soap opera? In a way, I suppose, although the film is much classier and more artistic than that label would imply. Zhang Yimou amplifies these things as a stylistic device. He�s interested in exploring the way human passions can sometimes overpower his characters, causing them to act in outsized ways. He likes big drama. House of Flying Daggers looked like a grand love story until its concluding tragedy made you realize that it was really about the pain of loss. This one is about loyalty. The princes have to decide whether to defend their stepmother and risk their father�s wrath, or stay in his good graces and watch the woman who raised them be slowly poisoned to death.

All this drama plays out amidst some of the most beautiful sets you will ever see. Color just pops from everything in the film, including the detailed costumes. Some scenes take place outside the palace, where yellow chrysanthemums fill the massive courtyard. There is an epic feel to the movie�s visuals that really helps you become absorbed by it. Even if you chose not to read the subtitles or follow the story, you could still enjoy the film purely from an aesthetic point of view.

Although it has less martial arts than Hero , there is still some action in Curse of the Golden Flower . The best sequence is a massive battle that concludes the movie. Tens of thousands of warriors clash on that field of chrysanthemums, their blood staining the flowers. Blood staining that which is beautiful � it�s an apt metaphor for the plot.

Color and action mean relatively little if you don�t care about the story, but that wasn�t a problem here. I found myself really caught up in The Empress� attempts to free herself from the husband who is covertly harming her. Gong Li is excellent in the role, and Chow Yun-Fat is perfect as the power-mad Emperor. I genuinely cared about what happened to them. The movie ends with a symbolic shot that leaves a few things ambiguous, yet nevertheless indicates how the Empress has changed inside. Curse of the Golden Flower is dramatic and exotic, a feast for the eyes with themes that are as hypnotic as the film�s physical look.

Curse of the Golden Flower is rated R for violence. The running time is 1 hour and 54 minutes.

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The Flick Chick

Zhang Yimou's Curse of the Golden Flower is an intimate family tragedy played at the level of spectacular, operatic grandeur. Telling a story of revenge, divided loyalties, forbidden loves, and power, and involving a husband, a wife, their sons, and another family that exists in the shadow of theirs and contains explosive secrets that, once brought to light, might destroy everything, Curse of the Golden Flower has a little bit of everything packed into its narrative. It also has a more is more (is more!) aesthetic informing its visuals, including enormous, elaborate sets and scenes which involve a massive number of extras, Curse of the Golden Flower is one of the great cinema spectacles, right up there with those old Hollywood films that played on an almost impossible scale, such as Ben-Hur, Cleopatra and Intolerance.

As a narrative, Curse of the Golden Flower plays out like the violent, climactic finale of a multi-volume saga. At the center of that saga is The Emperor (Chow Yun-fat), a man who rose to power by marrying the Empress (Gong Li), daughter of the former Emperor. Together they have two sons, Prince Jai (Jay Chou), who has been living on the frontier as part of his military posting, and Prince Yu (Qin Junjie), still a teenager and treated as more or less superfluous due to the existence of Prince Jai and their eldest brother, Crown Prince Wan (Liu Ye), the Emperor's son from his first marriage. For some time, Wan and the Empress have been engaged in an affair, though his heart belongs to Jiang Chan (Li Man), the daughter of the royal family's doctor. On the orders of the Emperor, the doctor has been slowly poisoning the Empress, administering small doses of "medicine" to her several times a day, and though the Empress realizes that something is amiss, she's powerless to do anything. If she refuses to take the medicine, she must directly accuse the Emperor of trying to kill her, which she cannot do because he holds all the power. So she has to keep taking the poison, knowing that she's being poisoned, and try to unseat the Emperor through subterfuge before the poison destroys her brain.

To that end, she convinces Prince Jai to help her. Though he is reluctant to work against his father, he can't stand idly by and let his mother be murdered, either, and so he agrees to lead an army of the Empress' supporters in a coup. Meanwhile, the Emperor comes face-to-face with Jiang Shi (Chen Jin), a spy hired by the Empress to find out what, exactly, is in the "medicine," and who is not just the wife of the doctor but also the first wife of the Emperor. Though the official story is that the Emperor's first wife is dead, she managed to survive the slaughter of her family which coincided with the Emperor's rise to power and now she wants revenge against him. Rather than punish her for spying in the palace, the Emperor instead arranges for her and her family to be sent away by promoting the doctor to the position of Governor of a nearby province - or, so it would seem. Instead, his intention is to have the family assassinated after they've arrived in the province, which doesn't quite work out as planned. Jiang Shi and her daughter make it back to the palace in time for the annual Chrysantemum ceremony, unwittingly walking into the major family drama of the royals, as well as the clash of forces loyal to the Emperor, those rebelling under the leadership of Prince Jai, and a third, smaller group on a mission that no one anticipated.

Even if the family drama that keeps the narrative moving doesn't entice you - and I'm not sure why it wouldn't, since stories of palace intrigue and people maneuvering against each other to take the throne are pretty popular right now - Curse of the Golden Flower is worth seeing just for the climactic battle scene. At the time of its release, this was the most expensive Chinese film ever made and you can definitely see where the money went. The sets are beyond elaborate, full of vibrant color and exquisite detailing, and the costumes are made to match, so ornate and heavy-looking that you have to wonder how the actors even managed to move in them. But it's the battle scene at the end that will blow you away with its sheer scope and with the film's ability to keep so many moving pieces working in harmony together. It's an ambitious sequence, breathtaking in both the size of its undertaking and in the skill with which it is depicted.

The film is a decadent visual feast and it would be worth watching simply for how painstaking and ultimately stunningly beautiful it's production is, but even though the general critical consensus with respect to its story seems to be lukewarm, I would also recommend it for its narrative. While the intrigues between the characters and the convoluted, tragedy-in-the-making nature of their relationships aren't groundbreaking and have been seen time and again in stories that riff on Greek tragedy, Shakespeare, and many other literary traditions, that doesn't mean that they aren't put to good use here. The three sons are drawn well in terms of the motivations which drive the film's climax - Wan is the chosen son, the heir who feels out of place in his position and would rather lead a simpler life; Jai is the born leader driven not by ambition, necessarily, but by being forced to make a choice when his loyalty to his father and his loyalty to his mother creates a division; Yu is the forgotten third son, intentionally underdeveloped by the story in order to underscore just how little he factors into everyone else's plans, much to their detriment - and, as played by Chow Yun-fat and Gong Li, the Emperor and the Empress are never less than fascinating. So, while Curse of the Golden Flower might not be the best film in Zhang Yimou's filmmography, it's still a film with an incredible amount to its credit.

Candidates are often required to perform various physical challenges, such as running, jumping, and dancing, to showcase their energy and athleticism. In addition to physical abilities, creativity is also an essential trait for a successful mascot. Candidates are usually asked to come up with a unique, entertaining, and original routine or skit to perform during the assessment.

This helps the judges determine the level of creativity and performance talent the candidates possess. Another important aspect of the assessment is the candidates' ability to connect with the fans. The mascot will be interacting with fans at games, events, and appearances, so it is vital that they are able to engage with people of all ages and backgrounds. Candidates may be required to improvise and interact with fans during the assessment, allowing the judges to observe their social skills and ability to connect with others. The assessment process typically involves a panel of judges, often including representatives from the Ravens organization, fans, and experts in mascot performance. Each judge assesses the candidates based on different criteria, including physical abilities, creativity, and fan interaction. The judges will observe and evaluate each candidate's performance in each category, taking notes and providing feedback for the final selection. Overall, the Ravens mascot tryouts assessment is a rigorous process that aims to find the perfect mascot who can represent the team and engage with fans. Physical abilities, creativity, and fan interaction are all key factors in the evaluation process, as the Ravens organization strives to find a mascot who can bring energy, excitement, and entertainment to the games and events..

Reviews for "The Ravens Mascot Tryouts: Evaluating the Creativity and Character of the Candidates"

1. Linda - 2/5 - I was really disappointed with the Ravens mascot tryouts assessment. It felt like they weren't taking it seriously at all. The judges seemed more interested in making jokes and laughing than actually assessing the candidates. There were some truly talented individuals who had put so much effort into their costumes and performances, but they were overshadowed by the lack of professionalism from the judges. It was truly disheartening to see potential being dismissed in such a careless manner.

2. John - 1/5 - The Ravens mascot tryouts assessment was a complete letdown. It was obvious that the judges had already made up their minds before the auditions even started. The whole process seemed more like a formality than an actual assessment. The lack of feedback and constructive criticism only added to the disappointment. It felt like a waste of time and an opportunity for genuine talents to shine was squandered.

3. Sarah - 2/5 - The Ravens mascot tryouts assessment was such a chaotic and poorly organized event. The judges seemed confused and disjointed, making it hard for the candidates to understand what they were looking for. There was a lack of clear criteria, and it felt like the assessment was based more on personal preferences rather than genuine talent. It was a frustrating experience for all involved, and I believe many potential mascots were unfairly overlooked due to the disorganized nature of the assessment.

4. David - 1/5 - I have never been more disappointed in a mascot tryout assessment than I was with the Ravens'. It was clear that the judges had no understanding of what makes a good mascot. The candidates were expected to perform tricks and stunts that were completely unrelated to being a mascot. The whole event felt like a circus rather than a serious evaluation of talent. I was extremely disappointed and left feeling that the Ravens' organization needs a serious reevaluation of their mascot selection process.

The Ravens Mascot Tryouts: Deciphering the Evaluation Criteria