Set in 1962 Hong Kong (in turbulent times, as we are informed), this extremely intimate story of a failed romance between a two married people tied to their traditions manages to recall the essence of old Hollywood in scene after scene of lush colors, evocative yet restrained sensuality (as opposed of the requisite sexuality and occasional nude scenes which has become part of the norm of a romance in film), and the use of facial expressions to suggest subtle changes in mood or communication. It's not hard to see the influence of Marguerite Duras here, since she is known for minimalism in storytelling as well as describing powerful drama using the art of verbal and non-verbal conversation between two characters with a strong bond as well as the use of re-enacting scenes that could eventually take place in both the characters' lives. From Hiroshima MON AMOUR to MODERATO CANTABILE, her pen is strongly visible here from the moment we enter the cramped rooms of Mr. Chow (Tony Leung) and Mrs. Su Li-zhen (Maggie Cheung) to the last scenes which explain the intensity of regret that he feels as he recalls the opportunity which was lost in reaffirming this relationship.
The plot even resembles something that Duras could have written: Mr. Chow and Mrs. Su Li-zhen, neighbors in a tenement apartment while both being fairly successful professionals, begin to discover in the most banal of ways that their spouses are cheating on them, and they discover quite naturally, it's with each other. The question is, should they act upon what they also feel towards each other or not be like their partners? Every scene plays with the notion that at any moment they will give in to each other, and at one point, it is suggested that eventually they do though as intrusive as the camera is in detailing to us their encounters (which seem to occur on a daily basis as seen by the frequent changes of Cheung's dresses), we never see it. And just as not seeing either of their spouses heightens their own love story, not seeing them carry through with their attraction makes the eventual separation even the more bitter because at every moment we want for something to happen -- some catalyst -- and the only one which comes is when Leung reveals to her that he loves her, followed by his quietly brutal revelation that she will never leave her husband, which implies that neither will he. It also gives us a glimpse of what culture and timing can do: from a Western point of view, a consummation of their romance into a more solid, lasting affair would have been possible especially in the 60s, but as it's Hong Kong, cultural values are markedly different.
Performances here are of the high order: it's very easy to play a torrid love affair, but to continually play a repressed, platonic relationship that is brimming with desire only barely suggested is hard and makes all the sensuality more cerebral than palpable or visual. Cheung and Leung smolder and their blighted chemistry lingers long after the credits have rolled.
The plot even resembles something that Duras could have written: Mr. Chow and Mrs. Su Li-zhen, neighbors in a tenement apartment while both being fairly successful professionals, begin to discover in the most banal of ways that their spouses are cheating on them, and they discover quite naturally, it's with each other. The question is, should they act upon what they also feel towards each other or not be like their partners? Every scene plays with the notion that at any moment they will give in to each other, and at one point, it is suggested that eventually they do though as intrusive as the camera is in detailing to us their encounters (which seem to occur on a daily basis as seen by the frequent changes of Cheung's dresses), we never see it. And just as not seeing either of their spouses heightens their own love story, not seeing them carry through with their attraction makes the eventual separation even the more bitter because at every moment we want for something to happen -- some catalyst -- and the only one which comes is when Leung reveals to her that he loves her, followed by his quietly brutal revelation that she will never leave her husband, which implies that neither will he. It also gives us a glimpse of what culture and timing can do: from a Western point of view, a consummation of their romance into a more solid, lasting affair would have been possible especially in the 60s, but as it's Hong Kong, cultural values are markedly different.
Performances here are of the high order: it's very easy to play a torrid love affair, but to continually play a repressed, platonic relationship that is brimming with desire only barely suggested is hard and makes all the sensuality more cerebral than palpable or visual. Cheung and Leung smolder and their blighted chemistry lingers long after the credits have rolled.