Showing posts with label Wong Kar Wai. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wong Kar Wai. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Ironic Title is Ironic

Film: Cheun Gwong Tsa Sit (Happy Together)
Format: Streaming video from NetFlix on rockin’ flatscreen.

I don’t have a vast amount of experience with the films of Wong Kar Wai. Cheun Gwong Tsa Sit (Happy Together) is the third of his films that I have seen, the others being In the Mood for Love and Chungking Express. Based on this small sample, it would seem that his films are about love, or more aptly about simple human connection, which frequently manifests itself as love, searching for love, or at least as sex. At the same time, it occurs to me that all of these films are not just about connection, but a lack of connection—an unfulfilled desire to make a connection that simply doesn’t happen.

That’s certainly the case with Cheun Gwong Tsa Sit. Fai Yui-fai (Tony Leung Chui Wang) and Ho Po-wing (Leslie Cheung) are a couple who leave Hong Kong and travel to Argentina. This trip seems to be something undertaken as a way to save their relationship, and it’s immediately evident that it didn’t work. Ho is abusive and unfaithful; he frequently brings men to the place Fai works almost to show off his infidelity. It soon becomes apparent that this is a pattern with the two of them. After weeks or months of this behavior, Ho eventually says “Let’s start over,” and Fai always goes along with it.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Down and Out in Hong Kong

Film: Chong Qing Sen Len (Chungking Express)
Format: DVD from DeKalb Public Library on kick-ass portable DVD player.


Most of the time when I watch a film on the list, I have a good idea of what I want to say about it, either good or bad. This is not the case with Chong Qing Sen Lin (Chungking Express). Actually two complete stories, the film depicts two sort-of romances, neither of which reach anything like a real conclusion, at least not on screen. Both romances involve cops who have recently been jilted by their long-time girlfriends. But there the similarities end.

The first story concerns a cop with badge number 223. His name is He Qiwu (Takeshi Kaneshiro), and his girlfriend May has left him. However, she left him on April Fool’s day, so he’s not sure if she’s serious or not. He decides to give her a month to come back to him, buying a can of sliced pineapple with a May 1 expiration date every day until then. When she doesn’t return to him on May 1, which is also his birthday, he eats all 30 cans and goes to a bar.

It’s here that he meets the mysterious woman in the blonde wig (Brigitte Lin). He decides that he will fall in love with the next woman who walks into the bar, and it’s her. She’s not really interested in him, or anything, though, because she’s got too much on her mind. What she isn’t telling him (and it’s a good thing, because he’s a cop) is that she is a heroin smuggler, and that her three mules have disappeared with a good chunk of her money, and with the heroin stashed in their clothing, shoes, bodies (a nice scene involving men walking uncomfortably out of the bathroom while she fills condoms with drugs) and expensive electronics. Like Qiwu, she has a May 1 deadline—find the mules or else.

So that’s the set up here—we have a cop obsessed with his ex and willing to do anything to forget her, even to the point of not noticing that the woman he is obsessing over now is a wanted criminal with two murders that we’ve seen on her head. They leave the bar together, go back to his place, and she sleeps. He performs a minor act of kindness for her—he polishes her shoes. She performs one for him—she wishes him a happy birthday. And then they go their own ways. He jogs so that his body doesn’t have enough water for tears, and she…well, she clears up that problem she has with her connection.

We shift stories when Qiwu bumps into Faye (Faye Wong) at a cheap carry out place he frequents. He walks off, and we are introduced to our fourth main character, Cop 633 (Tony Leung Chiu-Wai), whose real name we never learn. He stops by the carry out every evening and orders a chef salad for his girlfriend from the shop’s owner (Chan Kam-Chuen). He’s convinced to bring her something different, and a few days later, she tells him that she’s looking for something different in a man as well.

Faye is intrigued by this attractive cop, and when the ex girlfriend, a stewardess (Valerie Chow) drops off a short Dear John with his apartment key at the take-out. Faye keeps the letter and starts invading his apartment when he isn’t there. While there, she plays with his objects, cleans things up and replaces a few things as well. He, despite his job and the requirement to be observant, doesn’t notice. Instead, he’s lonely enough that he talks to his objects as if they are people—finding it strange that his old skinny bar of soap is now new and fate and that his dish rag is now no longer filled with holes.

Eventually, the two attempt to meet, but before she commits herself to 633, she goes off and sees the world. They connect again at the end of the film, but their future together is unclear.

And that’s really all there is here. There’s not a whole ton of story. Instead, we’ve got characters, at least three of whom are trying to make their way through Hong Kong without being alone. There is a sense of loneliness, a pang and desire of wanting to be together with someone throughout the film, particularly when we spend time with the two cops. What we have is character study, the story of people.

For being mainly plotless and loose at all ends, Chong Qing Sen Lin is surprisingly effective and pretty. This is not a movie to watch because of stunts or plot, but one to watch because it is a film that succeeds in many ways despite its limitations. I don’t want to imply that Wong Kar Wai is somehow limited as a director here—this is actually a great introduction to his major themes and his style. It simply isn’t a traditional movie. It’s a cut out of the lives of four people that bump into each other tangentially. We get no resolution, no feeling that these people will end up happy, or satisfied, or in at least one case, even alive tomorrow. And it works despite this. It needs to be watched more than once—I frequently skipped back and watched scenes a second time, making the experience much longer than its less-than-two-hour running time.

Faye Wong is pretty as a leading woman should be, but she has an annoying habit of looking not at the character she is speaking to, but swinging her head around to focus on that character for a second before looking elsewhere. It’s in character—she doesn’t know what she wants and is terrified of commitment, so this constant looking is a reminder of that. But it drives me to absolute distraction.

When this film was originally released in the states, it came out under Quentin Tarantino’s banner, which may have done it more harm than good. People expect a particular thing out of a film with Tarantino’s stamp on it, and Chong Qing Sen Lin has maybe five minutes of that sort of footage throughout. While that may have initially attracted an audience to the film, I imagine that much of that audience walked away confused rather than intrigued. Oddly, it gives me a whole new level of respect for Tarantino.

Why to watch Chong Qing Sen Len: Less plot, more character, and all character development.
Why not to watch: Halfway through, most of the characters change.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Painful Romance

Films: Hua Yang Nian Hua (In the Mood for Love)
Format: DVD from Davenport Public Library through interlibrary loan on big ol’ television.


Evidently, of late I have been attracted to domestic dramas. Hua Yang Nian Hua (In the Mood for Love) is the third in a row, and the second from Asia. Had I been able to follow the original plans of today, I’d have also watched Bin-Jip, another Asian domestic drama. Interesting the little clusters of coincidence that play out in the course of completing this long journey.

This film is very similar to yesterday’s in a few ways. In addition to what is mentioned above, the story takes place in the early 1960s, and centers around the idea of marriage. This is a story from Hong Kong, though, and is less concerned with getting married than the idea of marital infidelity. Additionally, this is a more modern film, made in 2000 by the acclaimed director Kar Wei Wong.

The film starts with two married couples moving in next door to each other on the same day. On the one side is the Chans. Mr. Chan is away on business during the move and is thus not there to help. Instead, his wife Su Li-zhen (Maggie Cheung) is handling the move on her own. On the other side, we have the Chows. Mrs. Chow is also out of town, so Chow Mo-wan (Tony Leung Chiu Wai) is arranging things.

We discover rather quickly that Mr. Chan and Mrs. Chow are out of town a lot, and usually at the same time. It becomes apparent first to us and then to their respective spouses that the two are having an extramarital affair with each other. Our two main characters attempt to recreate this affair as much as possible, avoiding the intimacy. Essentially, they want to try to discover exactly how the affair might have started between their spouses.

They also discover that they have common interests. Both of them like martial arts serial stories, and for something to do, Chow Mo-wan begins to write one with Li-zhen’s assistance. They continue to investigate their respective spouses, practicing confrontation on each other to work up the nerve to confront their spouses for real. And, the two slowly begin to depend on each other more and more for emotional support.

It’s clear to the audience that the two are deeply in love with each other long before they realize it themselves. However, they are also both incredibly concerned with appearances and propriety. Once, while working on their martial arts serial, she is trapped in his apartment when their landlady has friends over for a mah-jongg tournament. She refuses to leave because the other people might see her leaving his apartment. Rather than create suspicion, she waits, then creates an excuse for not being in her own apartment the night before when asked.

This is the beauty of the film. The two of them are so drawn to each other, and so deeply in love with each other, but are also unwilling to take that next step that both want to. Hell, we want them to. The ache between them is a physical thing, each gentle touch, each word, so filled with longing and desire that it is almost painful to witness. Several times, in rainstorms after a dinner spent talking about their spouses’ affair, they share a cab, leaning on each other in the back seat for support, knowing that their relationship will never go further than this no matter how much they want it to.

Good God, it’s pretty. It’s tragic and sad and heartrending as well, but it’s also the most romantic thing ever created. Romeo and Juliet have nothing on this pair in terms of desire. Kar Wai Wong (or if you prefer the traditional Chinese, Wong Kar Wai) manages to draw out performances here that express tremendous emotional power from small movements and long pauses. It’s masterfully directed.

It’s also beautiful to look at. Maggie Cheung wears traditional cheong-san dresses (yes, I looked up the name of this style of dress because there was no way I could have known it on my own) in every scene, and it’s a different one in every scene. They are gorgeous, almost mesmerizing. Of course, everything here is mesmerizing.

Why to watch Hua Yang Nian Hua: There may not be a more beautiful romance.
Why not to watch: You’ll ache.