Even with a second viewing, I just cannot get with the program on Wong Kar-Wai’s much-praised opus. Does it effectively establish a mood? Yes. Is it lovely to look at? Definitely. Is it cleverly elliptical and swooningly stylized? You bet. But did it move me or mean something to me? Sorry, no. Some may see it beautifully exploring the border between restraint and abandon in love, but not being quite that nice (in the classic Jane Austen-ish sense), I tend to see it just as a frustrated and frustrating affair. It’s certainly possible to enjoy the entire movie just for the succession of sheath dresses clinging to the exquisite form of Maggie Cheung, all cut the same way with a high, tight neck but in an astonishing array of fabric, color, and design; she must wear 40 different dresses in 98 languorous minutes. She and Tony Leung are accomplished actors as well as impossibly beautiful stars to watch. Nat King Cole and the rest of the soundtrack is very pleasant to listen to. I’m sure there’s an entire Asian frame of reference that I am oblivious to. But still, this to me was a film that went nowhere, way too slowly. And why did it end up at Angkor Wat, besides an excuse for an unpeopled coda of slow tracking shots? I read le mot juste on this film in the Time Out Film Guide (which is, incidentally, the indispensible reference for the film fan), calling it “scored as a valse triste.” You may like that sort of thing, apparently many knowledgeable people do, but I have other preferences in film. In fact, even here, one of the things I liked best was the documentary aspect of conveying the tight, dark density of living conditions in 1962 Hong Kong. The slow-mo and other stylistic tricks I could do without. (2000, dvd/cai, r.) *7-* (MC-85, RT-87.)
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