i finally finished watching wong kar wai’s in the mood for love (fa yeung nin wa, 2000) this morning. i had always fallen asleep in the middle of the film the past three times i had tried watching it, but this time, i was intent on finishing it. and boy, was it worth it.

the last time a film left such a strong impression on me was probably jim jarmusch’s stranger than paradise (1983), which had that magical feeling of neorealism and low-budget wizardry. in the mood for love, however, appealed to me in very different ways.

i’ve always appreciated good romantic films, even the sad ones. but it’s tough to find a good romantic film that doesn’t include the usual hollywood cheesiness or, if it’s an indie flick, that ambiguous ending that makes a novelty of the dissatisfaction it causes in the viewer. two of my favorite films, brett ratner’s the family man (2000) representing hollywood, and alex payne’s sideways (2004) for the indie flick, are two examples of such conventions. two of the more satisfactory indie flicks, if that’s even a factor for the viewer, would be before sunset (2004) and eternal sunshine of a splotless mind (2004). these were solid films that made me think about romance in a different light, and i think that’s what every good romantic film should strive for. and that’s what wong kar wai does with his film.

i love the premises of in the mood for love (taken from imdb.com):
A man and a woman move in to neighboring Hong Kong apartments and form a bond when they both suspect their spouses of extra-marital activities.

there is limited dialogue, but lots of movement – not necessarily with the characters, but with the slow-motion capture of the floating camera and a musical score that just seems to carry the film like a puffy cloud. the vivid colors really gave me a strong sense of hong kong in the 1960s (when the story takes place), and i couldn’t help but to be drawn to maggie cheung’s colorful dresses in each scene. there was a certain poetic feel to the film, but it wasn’t from any excess of imagery or visual trickery. instead, it was the economy of shots, the subtlety of tone, and the restrained melodrama that kept me on the edge. each shot seemed like a painting, and i couldn’t help feeling the awe of watching each shot as it became its own tableau. one shot that still sticks in my mind is of smoke rising up from tony leung’s cigarette. it is just smoke against a red background, but combined with the moody lighting, one can’t help but to feel the loneliness and alienation that pervades the air. and yet, wong does all this with the softest touch – no feeling of heavy-handedness.

i was most intrigued (as mentioned before) by the circumstances of the relationship that develops between mr. chow (tony leung) and mrs. chan (maggie cheung). they are brought together by the extra-marital affair of their spouses, and their bond is strengthened not only by their shared grief but by their physical proximity: they live next door to each other. one of the most memorable scenes was when mrs. chan is together with mr. chow at his place. the family that mrs. chan lives among comes home unexpectedly early. mrs. chan, fearing gossip, is afraid to emerge out of mr. chow’s place and go back; so she decides to remain at mr. chow’s. they eat noodles and while mr. chow writes his martial arts novel, mrs. chan lays silently on his bed, watching him. the neighbors play an all-night game of mahjong, so mrs. chan has to stay for many more hours. by the end of the night, mr. chow’s place is filled with dishes of leftovers from their noodle meal and subsequent snacks. for some odd reason, i found the overhead pan of mr. chow’s room for that shot breathtaking. it was as if the camera was transforming the tight physical space into a vast terrority of romance – complete with its uncertainties, comfortable silences, and brewing love.

we’ve seen many times in all kinds of films – action/adventure, comedy, romance, even horror – how characters often “fall in love” because of their extenuating circumstances. e.g. two characters do battle against terror and the intensity of their situation causes them to fall in love; two people meet each other in some foreign place and their shared sense in a lost world forms the bond; two people from very different backgrounds are somehow stuck together in the same place and eventually love each other, etc. what i appreciated in in the mood for love was that love was borne almost out of spite, but in a very subtle and delicate manner; there is no overly melodramatic cry of anger or sadness – just a few soft sobs and some blank stares into space. the sight of mr. chow and mrs. chan “rehearsing” their reactions in the event that they have to confront their spouses about the affair is both painful and hopeful at the same time: painful in that they have become marginalized in their own marriages, but hopeful because they have found each other. it sounds hokey trying to spell everything about the film out in text; i guess this sense of a connection or even love between the two characters is best expressed through its visual richness.

my “review” of the film doesn’t do it justice because i’m not really being critical or analytical at all, but this is just my way of encouraging people to watch it. if anything, the film really made me think hard about filmmaking and how artistic it can be if approached a certain way. oftentimes, i find myself falling for the trap of “how would the audience respond?” if i want to find a large audience or sell tickets, perhaps having the audience in mind would be a good idea, but it is an added pressure that has often taken the fun out of filmmaking for me. from my personal experience, i have found that creating something for the sake of my own personal expression has had the greatest merit. sometimes, an artist (if i may even consider myself that) needs to put his work out there and let people take away whatever it is they want from it. wong kar wai’s works reflect this artistic freedom, and i hope one day, i’ll have the guts and instinct to take on such an endeavor. next up: 2046.

paris ended all too quickly. wook and i left our etap hotel room around 8:30am (paris time) and headed for de gaulle airport. we bought our last pain du chocolat and washed it down with a bottle of orangina as we rode the RER. as with any memorable trip that has to end, leaving paris had a tinge of sadness. it not only signaled the end of our stay in europe, but for myself, it marked the end of my last spring break trip to anywhere. daytona (FL), washington dc, boston, and paris. not a bad collection of cities during a four-year span.

back in america, at JFK, the first thing i noticed on television was a commercial for the NFL. “awesome. american!” i noted, not only happy to see the familiar NFL logo on the screen, but also a bit proud that i actually work for them. taking the cab back to columbia, we honed in on the radio news – child molester this, kidnapper that, manhunt, rape, killer – good old sensational american journalism; no more of that educational BBC World (the version of BBC shown in France) crap with their sophisticated accents and enlightening news. who wants that?

for the last time, we also did our best japanese tourist impressions, a string of familiar japanese words and companies said in fob accent: “oneska kawasaki fujiyama yamaha nintendo” and so on. we realized, as proudly american as we were in paris, most people in france would probably have grouped us with the numerous japanese tourists that swarmed the area.

a lasting impression i had from paris was from our meeting with elsa, a french girl we met up with on our last full day there. elsa had been in australia two years ago with tammy, a friend of ours from back home. tammy had contacted elsa and told her to meet up with us. wook and i got to the montparnesse tower, where elsa worked as an intern, just in time to meet elsa. we decided to drink at The Financier pub, a dingy Irish spot near the tower, and tried our best to communicate with each other. elsa was pretty good at english, although she struggled a few times for some words. wook and i tried some french with her, but our pronunciation butchered most attempts. elsa did note, however, that our grammar – mainly our verb conjugations – was solid.

what i gathered from talking to elsa, and later her friend jean who joined us, was that the french outlook on life, at least from their own perspective, was a bit skeptical and sometimes bitter (but not so much in an american whiny way). from an american standpoint, i couldn’t disagree – they seemed to be limited in social mobility with their crazy taxes and strict educational system, and their choices in jobs seemed narrower as well. but there were admirable things about the french mindset, at least from what elsa and jean told us – their independence from religion, their worldliness, and their awareness of politics. i liked how elsa, in criticizing bush, was also critical of the french response, noting that it was as much a “pride” issue on the part of france as it was a moral or strategic one. jean was a very upbeat fellow who proudly told us that he never went to college but was a “self-made man” as an IT guy for a french company. he was also an avid traveler and seemed less embittered than elsa. they both dressed in all black, which i thought was a very gothic look, but elsa laughed when i mentioned this (probably a bit offended at the remark, too) and said it was just professional attire. sensible and cool – those two words came to my mind after our meeting with our french friends.

our last full meal was at cafe moderne, which served as the backup after our failed attempt at alain ducasse’s aux lyonnais without a reservation (duh!). we were not late for finkel and big lou this time, so everything was in good spirits. cafe moderne was very new york in that the decor was sleek and “modern” and the menu offered that same fusion type deal we see in trendy new york restaurants. in one respect, it was probably not the place to go in a city like paris, with its deep restaurant culture and all, but on the other hand, it was comforting and relaxing to be in such a familiar environment. plus, the waiter spoke english pretty well. our meal included foie gras (again), crayfish tempura, pumpkin soup, sea bass, roasted beef, lamb, and some thai-curry flavored pork. we also had two bottles of wine, one of which was an excellent 1998 red wine that was mistakenly given to us by the waiter; we had ordered a 20 euro bottle of red wine, but were given a 43 euro bottle, so the waiter just charged us 20 euros when we pointed out the error on the check (l’addition).

hopefully big lou and finkel are having a good time in barcelona, which was their next destination.

back in new york, life resumes. i have this general feeling of dread as i attempt to piece together some sort of history thesis draft, but i know it must be done. last night, hours after arriving in america, i took a stroll out to kim’s after a long overdue workout at the gym and rented Before Sunset. i had watched the movie in the summer, but fell asleep for a part of it. i thought, having visited paris (i even went to the shakespeare & co. bookstore), i would find the film more interesting. i had to admit that paris looked better on screen, with the bright sunlight and lush greenery of its parks, but it was heartwarming to be reminded that just a day before, we had walked the same streets and breathed the same air. perhaps we should have taken a boat ride on the seine.

i wake up early and make it to 280 park ave. by 9am. it’s nice to breathe in new york again and to be in the middle of the bustle as everyone spearheads to office cubicles. i receive a warm greeting at the office and give a brief summary of my vacation. my boss surprises me with a letter; i open it up; it’s from the commissioner. we refer to him around the office jokingly as “PT,” as if he’s the friendly boss looking over us, but it’s actually an honor of sorts to receive a personal letter from him. it’s a thank you note regarding the playbook intranet site, and he commends me for having juggled my school work with contributions at the NFL. he also wishes me luck on the rest of my studies and my start at Lehman Brothers. i take a moment to think about how this letter was crafted – did someone write up a draft for him to skim and then sign, or does he know me by now? i remember during the summer he met with all the interns and i shook his hand and made him laugh by referring to my individual role as “my boss’s shadow.” i heard PT has a photographic memory. anyway, it was nice to get a note of gratitude and encouragement from high above – i think it’s good business practice, to keep employees motivated by positive enforcements.

well, it’s almost lunchtime – there’s a mountain of work to do, both here at the NFL and for school. in some ways, i find this environment more relaxing and comfortable, whereas travelling and the mission to have fun was a bit stressful and tiring. but then again, a mix of both always helps to make each side enjoyable. i am such a fortune cookie.

happy st. patrick’s day. if you know me, you probably know which song is being played in my mind right now.

as with any of my travels, paris has been a blur. between the time zone difference and the various language and cultural adjustments i’ve had to make, i feel as if the days have passed me by like a TGV (superfast train in France). now, with a little more than a day left, i just want to collect a few thoughts before riding this trip out back to JFK.

i originally planned this trip for myself. thank goodness i’ve been accompanied by sei-wook. i am an amateur when it comes to travelling. wook has saved me on many occasions, reminding me to bring this and that and waking me up whenever i fall asleep on the subways here. plus, having two brains collaborate to conjugate french verbs and form questions have allowed us to get by in most instances, although we’ve had to resort to pointing and repeating english to the french people who’re kind enough to tolerate our poor language skills. the pervasive use of english in paris by tourists has made me wonder – what if in nyc some foreigner came up to us (americans) and started speaking in their language, expecting us to know it? i know english, by virtue of imperialism and globalism (same thing, basically), has become an international language, but still – i can see why french people would balk at helping some rude american who approaches them with straight-up english. most french people have picked up on our struggling french skills and have offered to speak english on our behalf. i can only imagine how many americans would go out of their way to speak french to a struggling french tourist in new york. and yet, we love to tell ourselves that the french are so obnoxious and snobby about their language.

euros. talk about being rocked on the foreign exchange market. the dollar sucks! 5 euros is more than 5 dollars, and that makes us feel pretty wary about the money we’ve been spending. we’ve been getting by on limited cash, but i only wonder what my mastercard (which supposedly takes the “best” exchange rates when billing me) has in store for me when i come back home. good thing we decided to pass up fouquet’s!

internet, internet, internet. wook and i suffered greatly from our inability to connect to the internet the first few days. we were granted temporary relief when we found a starbucks (yes – we actually did starbucks in paris) in the opera area and logged on momentarily to check mail on my laptop before my battery went out. of course, that transpired a whole new problem – these darn europeans love to use this odd two-pronged plug for electricity. wook and i were able to exercise our french several times in trying to find a converter; no small stores carried it and we were left without electricity for our american electronics (laptop/camera) until we finally visited the BHV, a macy’s/sears equivalent in the hotel de ville region. as for internet, we found an apple store in front of the centre du pompidou and used their computers to check our mail and send a few. back at our hotel, finally equipped with the converter, we had to pay 10 euros to log onto the hotel’s (hotel etap is where we are staying – a decent place that is not too far away from the center of the city for a nice 50 euros a night) wifi network. it’s so weak in our room that i am currently sitting in the lobby at 3am writing this entry. is it really necessary for us to have internet? probably not, but i hope being able to write this entry will somewhat legitimize our efforts. plus, wook can charge his camera now.

korean church in paris! oh boy. some people will laugh and some will view me and wook with a critical eye after i am finished telling this one. for all who don’t know, wook and i are both korean, but not the church-going type. as for being religious, we love kanye’s “jesus walks,” but i’m not quite sure many would qualify us as ones to ever walk with jesus. best put, we both grew up going to church, but we are not so much the believers that many of our other korean peers back in nyc are. so – why did we seek out and go to a korean church on an unsuspecting sunday afternoon in paris? the day before, saturday, our first day in paris, wook and i stopped by at a korean restaurant near where finkel and big lou (our barnard friends who also happen to be in paris) were staying (more on them later). the korean restaurant was a small joint on a side street, its decor somewhat reminiscent of the Mill back home, but not as cluttered. we shared bindae dduk while i had soondubu chigae and wook had sullung tang. portions were tiny, the beef in both pretty rare, and prices outrageous – somewhat unsatisfactory. so, i guess i felt the need to get something extra. bori, a barnard girl who had worked on the art decoration for ksa culture show, had been a student in paris for a semester, and upon hearing about our planned trip, told us to go to a korean church there. we first dismissed such an idea knowing we weren’t church-types, but as sunday neared, i became curious about the possibility of going to a korean church just to “see” how koreans in paris were like. of course, when i brought up the question – do you know any churches around here – the restaurant owner (who had also been our server) asked what denomination i was, and when i struggled to answer, he asked if we were looking to “meet girls.” damn.

the owner was nice about it. a short and humble-looking man, he laughed at what seemed to be our shady intentions (well, girls are only a part of the entire culture), and tore out from a korean-french publication a listing of all the churches. he recommended two churches (not his own) and told us to go there beacuse they were “big.” we picked one that was closest to our place and planned our church visit for the next morning.

located in vincennes, the yeonhap korean protestant church was stationed in an unassuming “temple” that had a no-frills look to it. wook and i, having risen a bit later than expected and having stopped at a turkish kebab for a lamb sandwich (my pronunciation of “agneau” was corrected), we were about 40 minutes late. we entered the church and sat in the back, wondering several times what the hell we were doing. but a familiar feeling came over us – the hundreds (perhaps thousands) of sundays spent in a worship hall with other koreans had prepared us for the steady beat of the korean minister delivering his sermon, the leather-bound korean hymns and NIV bibles, that stuffy smell of velvet and old people’s perfume, and the crisp feeling of that week’s jubo (worship program). i looked around and observed the parisian koreans, wondering how different they could be from new york koreans.

for the most part, they were not much different – koreans of all sizes and looks, dressed not too differently from a congregation in, say, new jersey, although i was surprised that many girls were dressed in jeans and not in some fashionable skirt or dress pant. as much as people may accuse wook and me for coming to a church to “meet girls” we were hardly (or even capable of being) the lady sharks that the owner thought us to be. we sat quietly and smiled at the people who looked at us from time to time. when the reverend announced the newcomers and visitors, we rose to our names being called along with the mention of being from “columbia university.” i felt it was important to include that fact when i filled out the info card because koreans, if anything, tend to remember which college you go to in america, especially if it’s an ivy league one. so – we were known as those “haksengs from columbia” from then on.

wook and i spotted a few cute girls here and there scattered throughout the congregation during sermon, but it was weird hearing them and the little kids running around speak fluent french. koreans speaking perfect french! it was totally another world, and we became a bit intimidated and wondered how we would communicate with them – our french and korean speaking abilities being fairly limited. a mixer in the basement after service allowed us to mingle a bit with the people. well, not really. we sat at a table and quietly sipped coffee and nibbled on the pastries. one middle-aged woman, an involved church member judging from her friendliness towards us, asked us some questions and told us a bit about herself – some sort of artist who had lived in paris for more than 24 years with three kids all french-born. we quickly ran out of things to talk about, so wook and i sat back and just looked at other people. it was a tiny basement, so it was a bit packed for a bit, but they divided the room in half and had youth group service in the other room while wook and i sat on the side that began to empty out.

we were introduced to two other visitors, a fashionably-dressed middle aged woman in an ostentatious fur coat named sonia and a reserved-looking conservatively, yet fashionably, dressed college girl named jina. where were they from? not LA, but “beverly hills.” having found people from america, we quickly struck conversation with them. jina was awfully quiet throughout, but sonia was an outgoing, assertive type. wook and i first thought sonia was jina’s mother, but after a while we caught on that sonia was some fashion academy teacher while jina was a student who had been interested in working in france. they had been visiting the past 5 days attending the large fashion convention that took place in paris in the spring. this was their last day before leaving early monday morning. sonia was glad to find people from new york, and to wook and my surprise, she invited us to join her and jina for a late lunch. it was no time to be shy or scared, so wook and i accepted, and we soon found ourselves on our way to champs-elyeese for some steamed mussels. but before we left, i loved how the reverend, a young middle-aged man of medium build, made us all pose with him for photos. i bet we’re on their website or something. wook and i told him we went to redeemer in new york, which wasn’t too far from the truth because i’ve been there once and wook’s been there a few times.

we found out little about jina, although she was on the pretty side, tall, and thin. we did learn, however, that she had been mugged in the subway, her wallet having contained more than 800 euros. eek! wook and i cringed at the thought of losing such money, but then wondered why the hell she would carry so much cash on her in the first place. we thought of our total cash holdings at that moment, and it was hovering around 50 euros. we felt bad for her, but wished she talked more. instead, sonia dominated the conversation, which was okay. she told us about her fashion involvements, including having made something for j.lo once and some other celebrities as well. she also told us about her french husband and her fashion academy. we struck a common topic when we brought up branding. i was probably a bit of a lecturer in giving my spiel about why branding was important, but sonia listened intently and cajoled that one day we could teach some branding at her school. how funny conversation with strangers work.

we ate at a touristy location on the champs-elyesee called Leon. it was cleaner than the other french places we had been, and the mussels in cream with celery and chalots were certainly excellent. we also had a bottle of alsace reisling as well – a bit too thick for my taste, but a nice sweet compliment to the saltier mussels. dinner was fun and the conversation never dragged. we all exchanged contact information in the end, and we all had a good time. we all gave each other hugs before saying our goodbyes. wook and i laughed at our most unusual and pleasant experience. we were appreciative of God, perhaps not in the sense of believing in a certain religion, but in that the community-building aspect of religion, especially among koreans (all over the world), had allowed us to branch out and meet new people in paris.

a somewhat preachy note from my end: it wasn’t a matter of exploiting or disrespecting christianity to meet people. as a matter of fact, our slight lie to the reverend was more for politeness and convenience, both on our part and for his. as for sonia and jina, we told them on the train that we were not really churchgoers and that we were, as i stated before, curious about koreans in paris. they seemed fine with that. on a personal level, i’ve felt, for many years, marginalized by choice to be a non-religious individual in the korean american community. but having been a son of a reverend, having attended church for a great number of years as an adolescent, and continually having various christian friends, i can’t say that church isn’t a part of who i am; i am aware of it, i know what it offers as an institution, and i am not afraid to approach it nor its people. but please, don’t worry, you won’t find me picking up girls at church back in america; i’ve already tried (and failed) that cycle back in high school.

(diana “monster”) finkel and big lou. okay, after that long detour, some notes about finkel and big lou before i go catch some zzz’s. finkel and i went to high school but weren’t really friends until the summer before college, when i found out that she was going to barnard. her roommate as a freshman was louise, whom i call big lou as an endearing name (if you’re wondering, she’s not fat). big lou and finkel are staying at hotel relais de paris south of the seine, near the eiffel tower. wook and i met up with them on the first day out here, and we’ve been hanging out regularly since.

aside from the fairly pleasant times (including visits to the eiffel tower and the louvre), i’ve managed to piss them off on several occasions by being unable to keep meeting times (30 minutes late twice, and 17 minutes late the third time, according to finkel). we had our last dinner in monmarte in a cozy restaurant where we downed 4 bottles of wine and had a filling three-course dinner that included foie gras, goat cheese, escargot, tartar (salmon and beef), duck confit, fish, and various desserts. but the night ended on a bit of a sour note when finkel and big lou put me on a big guilt trip for being late each time and being insincere in my apologies, “as if [i] was too important.” i know i was at fault, but then again, i didn’t appreciate the approach that finkel took in judging my character as a result of the incident. the more wook and i reflected on it later on, it seemed as if the matter could have been corrected with a simple warning along the lines of – “hey, can you never be late again, it really pisses us off.” i think i would respond to that better than something about “it’s just like that of you to do that” or “whatever, you can’t be sincere about being sorry,” etc. but hey, all good – people have different styles of reacting to things that annoy them. we’ll have dinner again tomorrow, at alain ducasse’s aux lyonnais.

one more day. there are a lot more things about paris that i’ve omitted in this long entry. perhaps i’ve made the korean church incident out to be the highlight of the trip, but there have been some other interesting stories: my 8-hour conversation with a french guy – mathius – who studies at umass – on our plane ride here, my issues with the french “stench” and its small toilets, the quickest louvre tour ever (1 hour! and chance run-in with tammi from school), the lethal mix of alcohol and coffee during the day, our love of baguettes, the pervasiveness of asians in paris, and our rendition of Yeah! What? Okay! in french (Oui! Quoi? D’accord!).

paris? c’est la vie.

mais, je t’embrasse New York.