“House of Flying Daggers” is nothing if not fittingly titled. As billed, knives are flying everywhere in this willy-nilly martial arts romance from Chinese director Zhang Yimou — flying, twisting, spinning, always finding their mark with uncanny accuracy. In one scene, a dagger swoops through the air like a remote-controlled airplane and neatly cuts several dozen bamboo shoots in half, without giving the people between them so much as a nick.

And now, Yimou, how about cutting us a break? Though pleasing to the eye, “House of Flying Daggers” blunders across that subtle, sacred line between operatic and sophomoric. Cosmetically, it resembles Yimou’s “Hero” and Ang Lee’s “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” — same lyrical martial-arts action, same color-saturated imagery — but is never quite as exciting, romantic or captivating.

Set in the waning days of the Tang dynasty, the story features traps within traps, and a three-sided tale of jealousy and romance heaving with passion and betrayal. Eager to ferret out an underground insurgency, a handsome royal deputy named Jin (Takeshi Kaneshiro) escorts a blind, beautiful rebel named Mei (Ziyi Zhang from “Crouching Tiger”) north to meet her comrades. Jin wins Mei’s trust by impersonating an anti-government sympathizer. Being the dutiful womanizer he is, Jin also looks forward to scoring a gratuity on the side.

Naturally, Jin starts to develop genuine feelings for Mei, who despite her handicap can pummel four men at once and pluck flying arrows out of the air with her bare hands. Jin’s superior officer, Leo (Andy Lau), senses his subordinate slipping and warns him against Mei’s charms. But, is it Jin’s well-being that Leo is so uptight about, or something else?

As love triangles go, you could do worse, and Zhang — possibly the world’s most delectable action goddess — once again steals the show with her angel- faced, chop-socking ways. However, the romantic intrigue is compromised somewhat by the director's technical vanity. The balletic pas de deux in the treetops in “Crouching Tiger” becomes an arboreal orgy here, a spectacle of overkill without resonance.

There’s also a silly dueling-drum sequence with elaborate headlong perspective shots that recalls Sam Raimi’s early films such as “Evil Dead 2,” without the ever- important irony. As a result, director Yimou fosters a certain numbness, severing the movie’s emotional nerve center from the characters with gaudy choreography. For once, those invisible stunt wires fail to suspend our disbelief.