Wong Kar-Wai's elegant study of the love between two lonely neighbours is a rare masterpiece of beauty and subtlety that will reward the close attention of any viewer willing to absorb the quietly defining moments of its character's lives and prepared to forsake today's seemingly pre-conditioned requirement for a story to be laid out for them like a menu. It is an intimate story, told with care at a deliberate pace, that captures with exquisite beauty both the depth of emotion shared by the main characters and the social constraints and sense of propriety that apparently precludes them from consummating their love.
Chow (Tony Leung) and Chan (Maggie Cheung) move into single rooms in adjacent apartments on the same day in 1962 Hong Kong. Chan's husband spends weeks at a time away from home on business while Chow's wife proves to be equally elusive. Over time, it becomes apparent to both of them that their spouses are engaged in an affair with each other, a realisation that draws them together and signals the beginning of a deep relationship.
Wong Kar-Wai has fashioned a story that is as beautiful as it is enigmatic. Almost everything is hinted at here, requiring a high degree of concentration from the viewer if they are to be rewarded with any kind of insight into the both the sexual and sociological elements with which the protagonists struggle and the irretrievable sense of loss that is the reward of those who lack the strength and courage of their emotions. The adulterous spouses are never seen on the screen this isn't their story; they are merely the catalysts for the one we are shown and the manner in which Chow and Chan uncover their infidelity is typical of the subtlety with which Wong Kar-Wai tells his story. We watch the emotions flickering beneath the surface of Chan's carefully composed face as she offers medicine to Chow's wife, knowing, before we do, that she has interrupted her illicit liaison with her own husband. Next shot: Chow's fist knocking on her door, wedding ring prominent their wedding rings, symbols here of love, infidelity, and the guilt that separates them, are often prominent while Chan cries in the shower. A couple of scenes later, the deceit is confirmed when both Chan and Chow realise their spouses have identical possessions that can only be bought overseas.
The mood is almost noirish at times, and the film is suffused with lush colours and patterns. Wong Kar-Wai repeatedly obscures our view, whether through dusty windows, or through skilfully composed framings designed to emphasise the sense of confinement within the teeming, over-populated city of Hong Kong. Many times, a wall takes up half (or more) of the screen. Wong also makes effective use of slow-motion to evoke the impression of loneliness and richly-textured memories, such as the moment early in the film when Chow and Chan, before their friendship develops, share a brief glance in the front room of her landlady in which a mahjong game is taking place. Leung and Cheung are perfect together, conveying their sense of guilt and frustration in performances that rely more on nuance than they do on words it's the type of acting that only the most accomplished can pull off, and both Leung and Cheung do so admirably.
In the Mood For Love is a film about loneliness in a crowded place, about the bitterness of regret, and its story is told in an intelligent and seductive manner that leaves the viewer astounded by the director's seemingly innate sense of visual imagery and ability to deliver a film of highly-charged emotion in a restrained manner that reflects superbly the internal struggle of its protagonists. Anyone who considers themselves to be a true movie lover should make an effort to see this movie.
Chow (Tony Leung) and Chan (Maggie Cheung) move into single rooms in adjacent apartments on the same day in 1962 Hong Kong. Chan's husband spends weeks at a time away from home on business while Chow's wife proves to be equally elusive. Over time, it becomes apparent to both of them that their spouses are engaged in an affair with each other, a realisation that draws them together and signals the beginning of a deep relationship.
Wong Kar-Wai has fashioned a story that is as beautiful as it is enigmatic. Almost everything is hinted at here, requiring a high degree of concentration from the viewer if they are to be rewarded with any kind of insight into the both the sexual and sociological elements with which the protagonists struggle and the irretrievable sense of loss that is the reward of those who lack the strength and courage of their emotions. The adulterous spouses are never seen on the screen this isn't their story; they are merely the catalysts for the one we are shown and the manner in which Chow and Chan uncover their infidelity is typical of the subtlety with which Wong Kar-Wai tells his story. We watch the emotions flickering beneath the surface of Chan's carefully composed face as she offers medicine to Chow's wife, knowing, before we do, that she has interrupted her illicit liaison with her own husband. Next shot: Chow's fist knocking on her door, wedding ring prominent their wedding rings, symbols here of love, infidelity, and the guilt that separates them, are often prominent while Chan cries in the shower. A couple of scenes later, the deceit is confirmed when both Chan and Chow realise their spouses have identical possessions that can only be bought overseas.
The mood is almost noirish at times, and the film is suffused with lush colours and patterns. Wong Kar-Wai repeatedly obscures our view, whether through dusty windows, or through skilfully composed framings designed to emphasise the sense of confinement within the teeming, over-populated city of Hong Kong. Many times, a wall takes up half (or more) of the screen. Wong also makes effective use of slow-motion to evoke the impression of loneliness and richly-textured memories, such as the moment early in the film when Chow and Chan, before their friendship develops, share a brief glance in the front room of her landlady in which a mahjong game is taking place. Leung and Cheung are perfect together, conveying their sense of guilt and frustration in performances that rely more on nuance than they do on words it's the type of acting that only the most accomplished can pull off, and both Leung and Cheung do so admirably.
In the Mood For Love is a film about loneliness in a crowded place, about the bitterness of regret, and its story is told in an intelligent and seductive manner that leaves the viewer astounded by the director's seemingly innate sense of visual imagery and ability to deliver a film of highly-charged emotion in a restrained manner that reflects superbly the internal struggle of its protagonists. Anyone who considers themselves to be a true movie lover should make an effort to see this movie.