After nearly a century, the legacy of 1931’s Daughter of the Dragon returns in the imagined sequel Rise of the Phoenix—a bold, visually striking continuation that reimagines the original’s themes for a modern audience. Directed by Chloé Zhao, the film breathes new life into an old narrative by transforming the daughter’s legacy from revenge into redemption.
Set in the present day, the story follows Meilin Lang, the great-granddaughter of Princess Ling Moy (played by Gemma Chan), who has spent her life trying to escape the shadow of her infamous bloodline. A rising forensic anthropologist in Shanghai, Meilin uncovers ancient writings and artifacts hidden in her family's ancestral home—evidence suggesting her ancestors weren’t merely villains, but pawns in a larger colonial game of power, myth, and betrayal.
But when a secret society bent on resurrecting the cult of Fu Manchu resurfaces—using genetic technology to recreate his mind—Meilin is forced into a world of espionage, identity, and ancient ritual. She must embrace her bloodline not to continue its violence, but to end its curse once and for all.
Visually, Rise of the Phoenix blends noir shadows with high-tech elements, moving effortlessly between the neon underworld of modern Hong Kong and the misty, red-lit temples of southern China. Zhao’s directorial touch is contemplative and lyrical, letting scenes breathe even in moments of suspense. The pacing is deliberate, building tension not through explosions but through inheritance, memory, and moral conflict.
Gemma Chan is magnetic in the lead role, balancing Meilin’s internal struggle with sharp intelligence and grace. Her portrayal avoids cliché, grounding the character in generational trauma, curiosity, and quiet resilience. Supporting performances by Donnie Yen (as a rogue historian) and Rinko Kikuchi (as the cult’s enigmatic leader) provide emotional and philosophical weight.
The film’s core question—can you rewrite the narrative written for you?—echoes through every scene. Rise of the Phoenix isn’t about defeating an enemy as much as it’s about dismantling the myth of one. Rather than fall into revenge or power fantasies, it chooses healing and truth.
For longtime fans of cinema history, Daughter of the Dragon: Rise of the Phoenix also serves as a quiet corrective—honoring Anna May Wong’s legacy while reworking the racialized tropes of the original with nuance and reflection.
