There is a scene, about two thirds of the way through, in which an older woman, mother to three children, sits down with her eldest daughter and the boy she has fallen in love with, and for about five minutes, they speak to each other. These are hard times – all three know it. At the beginning of the scene, the mother is sceptical. She treats the two as children, with their heads in the clouds. But the conversation develops, and gradually, we realise a change in the mother. She cannot back down – in practical, surviving terms, she is in the right. But she softens her approach, and by the end, even has a kind of basic respect for the two, behind her frosty exterior. For she has seen the love that these two have for each other, and recognised it. It was then that I knew I was watching a great movie…

If 'Lola' was a disappointment in the Asia Triennial Film Festival this year, Zhang Yimou's new film – a love story set during the Chinese Cultural Revolution – makes up for it tenfold. It's not very often I get the opportunity to rave about a film like this, as they are so rarely done well; cynicism, plot complication and saccharine cliché at turns are what often makes a love story such as this horrifically superficial and painful to watch. But Yimou knows what he is doing. Arguably the finest working Chinese director (with the masterpieces 'Raise The Red Lantern', 'Hero' and 'House of Flying Daggers' to his name), he has succeeded here in making a beautiful, heartfelt film, spilling over with the love and care that has gone into its production.

Zhang Jingqiu is a student sent to do research and write a report for her school on a small village in Yichang City. She stays with the head of the village and his family. While there, she meets Sun, a geology student. What follows is inevitable. But how delicately rendered it is: Jing is the most beautiful, innocent young woman Sun has ever seen, and Jing, emotional and vulnerable, is amazed by him. Love at first sight! But this isn't as whimsical as it sounds. Yimou hasn't completely forgotten his political ideals and ability for scathing criticism: with this latest endeavour, he explores just how stifled and suffocating Mao's regime was for everyone under his power, and the emotional deadlock that threaten to destroy his protagonists at every turn. Frolicking, even in the most innocent sense of the work, was risky; Sun and Jing are from different classes, exacerbating the issue. Were they to be found out, her life and ambitions to work as a teacher would be ruined.

I was unsure, during the first half of the film, what to think. Yimou makes some interesting structural choices as regarding his narrative – many of the scenes are divided by inter-titles, telling us of an event we are not allowed to see, and then moving on to its aftermath. Most directors would die before doing this – especially in a film requiring the emotional impact this needs – and, I admit, I doubted its benefits at first. But instead of hindering the drive of the plot, Yimou has used it in such a way – not to cut the film into a digestible running length, but simply to avoid over melodramatics, and focus (almost entirely) on the couple in question. Supplementary information is given to us by other means – the filmed scenes are belong exclusively to Yimou's exploration of our two protagonists' relationship. It works perfectly.

Of course, we all know the rules. Both lovers are alive at the beginning; the same cannot be said after the end credits begin to roll. What makes this movie so wonderful isn't its startling originality; it isn't going to revolutionise cinema as we know it, or spark off long lasting controversy. Rather, what we are offered is a little less prestigious, but by no means less special. What we find is emotional honesty – when we start to cry at the end, we don't feel cheated; instead, we revel in the director's success. More importantly, though, we have felt for his characters, having engaged with them completely, and have a kind of renewed respect for the kind of pure, unconditional love we have been shown. The film is yet another example of Yimou's mastery of the 'anti-melodrama' – much like his early work, this is incredibly restrained, beautifully measured and patiently observed, shot through with a warmth and tender humanity that shouldn't inspire anything but admiration. Cynics – stay away. But for all the romantics out there (of which I, admittedly, am one), I couldn't recommend this more highly. Simply put, it's exquisite.

With his many recent works that are nothing short of being opulent, and an Olympic project that was sheer spectacle, director Zhang Yimou still shows he has what it takes to take it down some notches in telling a simple, but no less emotional, tale of first love and romance, set during the Cultural Revolution in 60s and 70s China. It is this historical setting that perhaps piqued interest in bringing the Internet novel by Ai Mi onto the big screen, which lifts it beyond a typical romantic weepy.

Starring newcomer Zhou Dongyu - mind you Zhang Yimou has this knack of bringing new faces to the scene - and Shawn Dou as the star crossed lovers Jing and Sun respectively, the story tackles both the saccharine sweet moments that the duo have to steal away from society's prying eyes, and that of objections that come from Jing's mother. It's a time when Chairman Mao is very much revered, and the story takes aim at how his policies impacted the ordinary man on the street, giving rise to complications on survival matters, especially if you're deemed an intellect and are sent to be re-educated as with Jing's father, held as a political prisoner, and her teacher mom into becoming a school cleaner, earning extra through the folding 1000 envelopes for a single cent.

Constantly cautioned on her family's lack of status and being under the scrutiny of the powers that be, hopes are pinned on Jing as the next generation to lift their family's plight, since there are also two other younger siblings to take care of, rather than to spend time in romantic affairs of the heart with Sun. But undeterred, both parties forge on despite the rich and poor, have and have not divide, with Sun's more privileged background meant a lot more giving on materials on his end to ensure that his loved one makes it through what life has dished out to her under the current circumstances.

The story also doesn't shy away from the airing of grouses, which is probably quite unheard of and bordering on treason too, at least for its time when such statements get made in hushed tones. While one can be quite gung ho about it as proclaiming one's love for another, it's another ball game altogether when taking pot shots at an establishment. The secrecy of the lovers relationship provide ample moments for the usual tried and tested formula of stolen glances, growing into more daring meets involving some frolicking into a river, and moments of temptation when they're all but alone in a rented room.

Having the lovers meet when Jing was sent to the countryside as part of curricular and Sun being attached to a geological project meant the film can bask in a lot of lush landscapes brought out by beautiful cinematography. The art direction was top notch to make this period piece believable, and some of the best moments in the film occur when little things get detailed and time spent to showcase it, such as the amount of propaganda posters pasted on walls, as well as that of a rousing morale boosting song performed by the students with aplomb, even if some of them do not quite actually harbour the same sentiments as what's being sung out loud.

The fresh faced leads also breathed some life into what would be a typical narrative of a romantic weepy. Zhou Dongyu is excellent as the innocent and wide-eyed girl who takes on a very firm stance against her mother's wishes, putting a risk in jeopardizing her family's fate, and that of her own future, should she be found out. Shawn Dou plays his hunky character of the almost perfect man with that steely determination of wanting the best for his loved one, yet being presented with a dilemma of a request made by an elder, which I'm sure many guys out there would share in similar emotions if put in the same boat. At some angles he reminded me of a certain television actor in Singapore as well, but blessed with better acting ability.

In a way the story's quite sprawling, and not everything from the novel can be filmed without sacrificing pace, and this accounted for the very frequent use of intertitles to split the scenes into logical chapters. I would rank this as one of Zhang Yimou's more accessible films, and certainly one that shows he's more than capable to tackle a rather straightforward tale no lacking in powerful emotions and melodrama. Recommended!

In some restaurants, the chef goes out of his way to create complex dishes, with intricate combinations of tastes, colours and cooking styles. Others specialize in simple dishes, that stand out because of the quality of the ingredients. A simple pasta pesto can be a treat if it's made with the best olive oil, freshly grated parmesan and homegrown basil.

Under the Hawthorn Tree is like such a simple, but delicious dish. It's a straightforward story of a forbidden love, told in a basic way, without many frills. But Zhang Yimou is such a craftsman, that he doesn't need much to make a great movie.

The story is set during the cultural revolution, a period of ruthless oppression by the communist regime. The young girl Jing is being watched by the authorities because her father was a 'reactionary' and she risks losing her job as a teacher. During a trip to the countryside she falls in love with Sun. Her mother is afraid the affair will harm Jing's future career, and she forbids the two lovers to see each other.

Zhang Yimou tells the story in a simple way, focusing on the two lovers. He uses title cards to make the story go forward, a smart move because it prevents the script from having to explain too much. In this way, Zhang concentrates on the story of Jing and her lover Sun, and nothing else.

China in the seventies was a country where people led simple lives. Zhang emphasizes this by using simple props, like a goldfish key-chain made of yarn and beads, or a metal bowl with a special decoration. The hawthorn tree from the title also has a symbolic meaning, and in the very last image of the movie, when we see the tree blossoming, Zhang has an unexpected surprise that will make you smile.

The acting is wonderful. The two leads tell just as much with their eyes, their laughs and their expressions as with their words. Take for example the scene where Jing gives her goldfish to Sun, and the camera lingers on their faces to show us how they feel. Wonderful film making.

With this film, Zhang Yimou returns to his earlier style of film making, telling stories about the daily life in China. Under the Hawthorn Tree has more in common with his lesser-known films like Not One Less or The Road Home, than with his visually more spectacular films like The House of Flying Daggers, or even Raise The Red Lantern.

Some people may be disappointed by the slow story, in which nothing spectacular happens. But some of history's greatest film classics are slow and subtle. In a way, Under the Hawthorn Tree made me think of David Lean's classic Brief Encounter, another story about a forbidden love, that stands out because of the impeccable directing and acting.