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.