Maggie Cheung, Tony Leung, I’d be down for either, if you know what I mean!

Written By: Kar Wai Wong
Directed By: Kar Wai Wong

I don’t think I’ve talked about this before, but every once in a while a film comes along that causes me to experience what I call the “giddy factor.” What does it take to trigger this giddiness you ask? I don’t know if I can adequately explain why it occurs, but certain movies make me happy beyond the norm. I watch the film, everything is going according to plan, I am enjoying myself, then something clicks inside of me. I can’t explain what clicks, but suddenly I’m not just enjoying the movie, I’m loving every second of it. I’m loving every second of the movie so much so that I can’t help but get that giddy feeling in my stomach that hearkens back to Mom’s home made cookies or discovering Spider-Man for the first time. It doesn’t happen all the time, but when it does happen I know I am in the middle of something special, a movie to to take stock of.

I can’t pinpoint the exact moment when I realized that Fa Yeung Nin Wa was triggering my giddy factor, but I know that I was giddy for most of the film. It wasn’t one thing either, it was the entire package of the film. Fa Yeung Nin Wa was like an intoxicating drink, once I took one sip I wanted another, and then another and each sip was better than the one to come before. Maybe this has something to do with effortless progression of the story. This is a film without filler, Fa Yeung Nin Wa ponders and thinks, it takes its time, but it never feels like it has gone off the rails. Each scene builds after the next, creating an almost unbearable tension at times. Sex never occurs during Fa Yeung Nin Wa, but I’ll be damned if this isn’t one of the sexiest films I have ever seen.

Routine is a major part of Fa Yeung Nin Wa, but it’s not so much the routines followed as it is the falseness of the routines. Kar Wai Wong lulls the viewer into a false sense of security, this is a love story after all so we know where it is going to and what will happen, right? Every time I thought I had the routine figured out Wong would floor me with some new revelation. When I thought Fa Yeung Nin Wa was going to be a simple story of disconnect Wong threw me for a loop with the revelation that the unnamed spouses were cheating with one another. After that I suspected it was going to be a film about the lies Chow and Su Li-zhen, I’ll call her Chan from now on, endure at the hands of their spouses, then Wong punched me in the gut with the restaurant scenes when they admit they know of the affair. Finally I was convinced that Chan and Chow would never admit their love for one another, but then they did and in yet another moment of me getting bowled over by Wong, neither one followed through.

Much like the cautious relationship between Chow and Chan, the camera is just as cautious in Fa Yeung Nin Wa. Most of Fa Yeung Nin Wa is filmed from behind something, as if the camera is peering into the forbidden or trying to hide, but it just can’t. It’s a beautiful affect for the movie, because even though their relationship never reaches that next level physically, emotionally it does and that may be worse than a simply physical interaction. Or, maybe the camera takes this cautious approach because Wong is afraid of getting too close to the relationship and damaging it somehow, blossoming love is a very fragile thing after all. Maybe it’s just me, but when you can interpret different ways the camera might have been used you are dealing with a great film.

I have spoken in the past about the man crush that every male should hold for Tony Leung, and Fa Yeung Nin Wa further proves that it doesn’t matter whether you are heterosexual or homosexual as far as his appeal is concerned. Maggie Cheung on the other hand was a new find on my part. As much as I may joke about the sex appeal of both actors, that isn’t all they have to offer. Both are as mannered as could be in their roles, expressing the longing and pain of Chow and Chan. They don’t ask the audience to identify with them, they beg the audience to pay attention to what they are going through. That is a fine line to tread, a line that Leung and Cheung tread in exquisite fashion.

There isn’t a true plot to Fa Yeung Nin Wa, there is a story, but not a three or four act plot. That is okay, there doesn’t need to be a plot. The story is about Chow and Chan, watching their non-relationship, experiencing the formalities of their lives, the stolen glances, the longing and the ultimate resignation. It may seem like I am belaboring a point, and I am, but it irks me sometimes when I hear people complain about the lack of plot in a movie. Yes, there are movies that suffer because of a lack of plot, but Fa Yeung Nin Wa is an example of a movie that excels because it isn’t about any plot but the people in the movie.

I’ve come to the end of my review and I haven’t mentioned my favorite aspect of Fa Yeung Nin Wa, Maggie Cheung’s amazing costumes as deigned by William Chang. In scene after scene he draped Cheung in exotic colors that were evocative of the time, hugged Cheung’s figure to perfection and managed to bring out the color of the sets even more. I don’t often notice costume design, but the dresses Cheung wore in Fa Yeung Nin Wa drew my attention from the start, there wasn’t a less than stellar dress in the bunch.

After that false start we are truly at the end of my review of Fa Yeung Nin Wa. I’ve gushed an awful lot, but this is a movie worth gushing over. I seriously considered declaring this the best movie I had ever seen after it finished. But, as great as Fa Yeung Nin Wa is, I’ll need more than this initial viewing to make that sort of declaration. What I can tell you is that Fa Yeung Nin Wa is a terrific film, one that I am so happy to have finally watched. As I make my way through the career of Kar Wai Wong I can only hope that he can continue the wonderful film making I have been privy to in what I have experienced so far. Unlike its lead characters there’s no reason for you to hold back and show caution, Fa Yeung Nin Wa is a movie that is worth forming a relationship with, over and over again.

Rating:

****

Cheers,
Bill

di Simona Maggiorelli

In the mood for love di Wong Kar Wai

L’ Atlante delle emozioni,  con cui Giuliana Bruno ha vinto nel 2004 il premio internazionale Kraszna-Krausz come migliore libro sulle immagini in movimento, è davvero uno dei saggi più sorprendenti degli ultimi anni per chi si occupa di arte contemporanea e di estetica. Non solo per l’affascinante cartografia di percorsi e di nessi che tesse viaggiando fra architettura, arti visive e cinema. Ma anche per il linguaggio con cui  queste cinquecento pagine sono scritte.  Fondendo discorso accademico e racconto, teoresi e linguaggio rapsodico, «con il piacere – annota l’autrice stessa – di selezionare e organizzare il discorso in forma di travelogue visivo».
Laureata all’Orientale di Napoli e dal 1990 professore di Visual and enviromental studies a Harvard con il suo monumentale Atlante delle emozioni e con libri come Pubbliche intimità, anch’esso uscito in Italia per Bruno Mondadori, Giuliana Bruno ha “imposto” una voce radicalmente diversa nel rigido panorama internazionale della critica dominato da scelte razionaliste, gelidamente concettuali, astratte.

Ci è riuscita “partendo da sé,” dal proprio sentire, rifiutando uno sguardo oggettivante e recuperando alla scrittura immagini e affetti. «E’ vero – ammette la studiosa che in questi giorni è a Roma per la due giorni di studi che ha inaugurato il MAXXI  ( e che ha visto la presenza di Aaron Betsky- e della stessa Hadid) ho cercato un modo di guardare differente, uno sguardo nuovo, per così dire “tattile”. La maniera classica di guardare ci ha insegnato una fredda distanza fra noi e le persone che guardiamo.

A me sembra, invece, che ci sia un modo un po’ più carezzevole di avvicinarsi e di essere toccati dalle immagini. In modo che l’occhio non sia di un voyeur ma di un voyager, per me declinato al femminile, come voyageuse. Insomma mi interessava una modalità più fluida di entrare e di guardare attraverso le cose e di rapportarsi agli ambienti che attraversiamo, a quei luoghi che raccolgono le nostre emozioni, le nostre memorie. Niente è neutro, tanto meno gli spazi della rappresentazione.
Possiamo leggerlo come un recupero delle emozioni ostracizzate dai filosofi?
Le emozioni non hanno nulla a che fare con il sentimentalismo. Sono una forma di conoscenza. E l’immagine ha un contenuto, un sostrato. Al di là di quello che mostra di per sé. Le immagini emotive si muovono nel tempo e non solo nello spazio.
Mentre lei scriveva il suo Atlante delle emozioni, il filosofo Remo Bodei sceglieva per il proprio lavoro  un titolo spinoziano come Geometria delle passioni, due diverse modalità?
Ho incontrato più volte Remo Bodei, è una persona straordinaria, sensibile. Però sul piano intellettuale, innegabilmente, esprime una forma di geometria, mentre, per dirla con Deleuze, il mio pensiero ha molte pieghe.
A proposito di cultura francese, lei prende le distanze dal discorso che Julia Kristeva ha fatto sull’«apparato cinematico». Perché?
Semiologia e  psicoanalisi si sono occupate dello sguardo filmico e lo hanno trattato non solo come testo ma come apparato di una forma di visione. Ho letto molto ma mi sembrava che mancasse qualcosa di fondamentale in quegli scritti. Ovvero che il modello applicato a questo apparato filmico fosse una sorta di trappola lacaniana da cui non si riusciva a uscire. La soggettività veniva rinchiusa in una forma di rappresentazione duplice e spaccata di fronte allo specchio. A mio modo di vedere lo schermo cinematografico è più di uno specchio o di una finestra.  E non mi corrispondeva lo sguardo trascendentale e incorporeo,  questo io-ego come grande occhio, che emergeva da questa lettura lacaniana del cinema che è stata a lungo dominante nella cultura francese.
Così si è rivolta al filosofo Hugo Münsterberg, collaboratore di William James. Un curioso personaggio che riconosceva forza psichica alla rappresentazione cinematografica. Come l’ha scoperto?
Mentre cercavo di mettere a punto un mio diverso approccio al cinema scrivendo l’Atlante delle emozioni mi sono ricordata di avere un libriccino di questo filosofo ebreo tedesco che avevo letto molti anni prima. Münsterberg faceva ricerca agli inizi del XX secolo, in un periodo molto fertile, quando nasceva la psicologia sperimentale. E aveva dato vita a suo laboratorio filosofico sulle immagini.  Nel 1916, dunque molto presto, Münsterberg scoprì il cinema e scrisse  un libro assai interessante. All’epoca nessun filosofo si occupava  di cinema. Né tanto meno si pensava che fosse un’arte. Avendo lavorato molto sulla psiche, invece, Münsterberg riconosceva al cinema non solo la possibilità di rappresentare delle cose ma anche di rappresentare come pensiamo. Parlare di forza psichica del cinema per lui significava riconoscerne la forza emotiva, ma anche cognitiva. Naturalmente lui non andava oltre. Si trattava, invece, di leggere le forme di immaginazione e di rappresentazione cinematografica. Ma il suo pensiero mi è parso comunque importante. Tanto da dedicargli una monografia che sta per uscire negli Usa.
«L’indubbio progenitore del cinema è l’architettura», scriveva Ejzenštejn. è stato per lei una fonte?
Sono tornata a Ejzenštejn proprio per il rapporto che vedeva fra montaggio e architettura. Di  lui, ovviamente, si è scritto molto, ma  un suo saggio degli anni Trenta mi ha spinta a continuare una ricerca trasversale  che associa il cinema alla produzione di spazio in tutti i sensi, non solo  fisico. Come l’architettura anche il cinema è una maniera di “spaziare” in molti sensi. Il primo film, diceva Ejzenštejn,  è l’Acropoli di Atene. Non la caverna di Platone. Proponendo così un modello metaforico molto diverso. Il  cinema  richiama l’attraversamento di luoghi  in una città con una serie di visioni, di immagini in movimento. Lo spettatore non è più intrappolato nella caverna platonica. Ma l’accostamento fra l’architettura e il cinema funziona anche se si pensa al  solo fatto che l’architettura non si contempla. Si recepisce con il corpo, con la sensazioni.
Nel suo lavoro il cinema di Antonioni occupa un posto importante. Come regista capace di creare «uno spazio mentale» e di raccontare per immagini il mondo interiore dei  personaggi. Ci sono registi oggi ai quali riconosce una ricerca analoga?
Sì amo molto Antonioni, con il suo modo di filmare quasi minimalista riesce a tracciare personaggi a tutto tondo, non meri caratteri. Antonioni non parlava del personaggio attraverso l’azione, ma con l’introspezione che traspare dalle sue inquadrature. Talvolta anche di bellissime architetture vuote. Basta questo per restituirci il mondo interiore di un personaggio, il modo in cui sente e vive. Una cosa che ritrovo per esempio in Wong Kar Wai, regista di In the mood for love. Anche se  con un’estetica diversa, ritrovo nel suo cinema un certo modo di guardare il rapporto fra uomo e donna, lo spazio psichico, lo spazio della memoria, lo spazio dell’immaginazione, il tempo. Si ha la sensazione che questo spazio contenga una durata che non riguarda la  “velocità”. Questo sguardo differente torna anche in molte installazioni di arte. Lo trovo non di rado espresso nelle immagini in movimento che oggi si vedono nelle gallerie d’arte.
La videoarte, integrando più linguaggi d’arte, apre nuove possibilità espressive?
In Pubbliche intimità ho insistito molto su questo cambiamento che a me pare molto interessante. Non è la morte del cinema ma un’estensione dello sguardo filmico che entra nelle gallerie e nei musei proponendo un modo diverso di relazionarsi con le immagini. Non è più la contemplazione della pittura come immagine fissa, ma comprende il movimento dell’immagine, il movimento dello spettatore e il movimento di un tempo che direi interiore. Nella concitazione della vita metropolitana alcune opere di videoarte e installazioni offrono un modo di riappropriarsi del tempo,  dell’interiorità.  In un certo senso queste nuove forme di arte ci invitano a guardare le immagini guardandoci dentro e a guardarsi dentro per vedere meglio fuori e, spero, per cambiare.
Nel tempo breve, ellittico, di un’opera di videoarte le immagini talora ,possono arrivare ad avere un “calore” speciale, una deformazione quasi onirica, poetica.
E’ una dimensione che riguarda il “tenore” delle immagini ma non solo. Penso, per esempio, a certe opere sonore di Janet Cardiff: seguendo la sua voce si entra in uno spazio. Altre volte c’è una piccola videocamera che ti permette di percepire la forma di relazione che l’artista ha con il mondo. è come se ti facesse entrare nella sua mente, nella sua maniera di sentire. In una sua installazione realizzata dopo l’11 settembre, ricordo, aveva collocato delle casse in un luogo molto grande. Gli spettatori potevano muoversi e ascoltare dagli amplificatori oppure mettersi dove  volevano. L’atmosfera che si veniva a creare era molto particolare, intensa, partecipata. Ognuno in silenzio seguiva il filo delle proprie immagini interiori, ma al tempo stesso era vicino agli altri. In un momento molto duro per New York, in un museo, stranamente si aveva la sensazione di poter attraversare questo trauma in maniera anche pubblica, sociale. è un aspetto del cinema che mi ha sempre molto affascinato e che qui trovavo allo zenit. L’installazione di Cardiff permetteva di essere al contempo molto dentro di sé e insieme di condividere con altre persone  emozioni, sensazioni, pensieri, forme di discorso. Di nuovo a Berlino qualche mese fa ho incontrato una sua installazione. Ho notato che i più giovani avevano spento tutto, telefonini, iPhone e quant’altro e ascoltavano a occhi chiusi. La dimensione in cui si era trasportati non aveva nulla di nostalgico, niente di religioso. Era come se l’artista ci invitasse a fermarci un momento. Per non essere sempre spezzati tra le cose, per trovare un modo, anche solo per un istante, di connettersi con gli altri e con il nostro mondo interiore.

da left avvenimenti del 13 febbraio 2009-

so the three films i’m going to talk about are (in the order they are to be viewed, not in the order in which i love them):

in the mood for love

marie antoinette

wings of desire

these films are all favorites of mine, all time favorite favorites, best movies ever and i can’t pick which one would be my all time #1. it’s too hard. they have influenced how i think, feel, dress and view the world. i could do a full on blog for each one. the only way to settle it would be to have them fight for my favor but no matter who won i would be disappointed. sigh.

so instead i’m going to focus on the amazing fashion/style of each movie and talk about how to pick out an outfit from each one. now, this is an imaginary internet shopping outfit, i’ll list real prices but nothing is really affordable. i imagine the outfits i pick out to be like inspiration for you to go out and find your own at your local vintage shops and nordstrom racks.

i wish, sometimes, that this blog was one of those blogs where i am like a maria von trapp of  fashion and i can say “hey! remember that amazing white coat rachel weiss wore in the brothers bloom???? well, here is how to make it in a half hour with the fabric from your old sofa and six nickels”. but guys, i am just not that girl. so enjoy.

IN THE MOOD FOR LOVE

as i mentioned before, this is a movie that is seriously up for best movie ever award. it’s so beautiful and tragic with the most amazing costumes and music that it might melt you into the floor. it did me. hong kong 1960’s. hot, hot, hot tony leung. unrequited love that is so soft you can barely hear it but it’s deafening. is this another one of my quiet films? you betcha.

wong kar wai, i think, is all about the skin tight, crazy, crazy tight cheongsam. it’s what he puts all his ladies in and they all look amazing. if you are going to try this look, be sure to either have gone to the gym and dieted for at least two years before. like that all grapefruit diet. it was really hard to find cheongsam that didn’t look like bad prom night, but here it is a beautiful one clocking in at $129.99:

if you are looking for a gorgeous cheongsam of your own, please do not be deterred by the picture of paris hilton that instantly pops up when you google “cheongsam”. there are a lot of affordable ones and to achieve the full wong kar wai treatment, you’ll have to take it to be tailored. but you really can’t argue with those lines. they are beautiful. from here i’ll take you to proper accessories to give yourself the look of the heroine mrs. chan at the climax of the movie: stark reds and blacks.

stella mccartney red trench for $658. love those classic sharp lapels.

14k white gold and black pearl dangle earrings for $312

a black miu miu leather nappa shoulder bag for  $1,150

and dont’ forget your pumps! beautiful christian louboutin new decoltissimo 85 patent pumps for $565:if you want to go chan to the max, you’ll also need some silk stockings, a beehive and some killer black eyeliner. i suggest calvin klien for lingerie, mac for make up and some aqua net for hair (i used to have a roommate with a beehive and she swore by that stuff).

MARIE ANTOINETTE

so if you have been reading this blog for a bit you will know i am obsessed with sofia coppola’s marie antoinette. i have already talked a lot about how incredibly ornate yet quiet this film is. it’s really astonishing. and it is so, so beautiful and detailed. eating with your eyes, i call that. but i’ll shut up now and let you see for yourself, if you have not already.

now, all the blogs and magazine articles i checked out in prep for this blog in regards to marie antoinette inspired fashion, which seemed to peak around 2006 (but in my opinion is always in style) were all like “OMG! don’t over do it, pick ONE color you like or do ONE loud thing that is MA inspired and tone the rest down or you’ll look costume-y.” and you know what i say to that? FUCK THAT SHIT. i think if you’re going to pull together a marie antoinette inspired number you better look DECKED. it’s marie antoinette for crying out loud! i don’t want to see that you put on a jeweled cameo necklace over your black turtle neck because you were “inspired” by marie antoinette. no, no. if you are channeling the great MA, you better turn it out. that being said, i give you my marie antoinette outfit….waist up first:

first, pompadour your hair until it looks like candy floss.

then some tarina tarantino tulle flower clips scattered about in baby blue, clocking in at $70

pretty dangling pink earrings from betsy johnson for $41

next, a stack of fake pearls. necklaces, from top: pearl-and-chain necklace, $1488, pearl-and-safety-pin necklace, $963, tom binns; single-strand pearls, price upon request, mikimoto. stolen from marie claire, i think.

personal fave, the ostrich-feather vest, $3,275,  givenchy by riccardo tisci

underneath which will live this beautiful knit corset by ditu who only gives you prices and sizes on requests.

now waist down all valentino, poor you…

valentino red silk organza miniskirt for $495

then scare yourself up some baby blue tights and finally, finally, stuff your pretty manicured tootsies into…

these beauties are hot off the spring 2010 runway and i don’t have a price. i’m guessing they will cost you some kind of organ or access to your dna.

last step, powder your nose and rouge your cheeks. mac can help there (they don’t pay me to promote them so hard and i don’t work there, i swear, i just believe in the goodness of mac). and you have marie ala 2009. voila!

WINGS OF DESIRE

i feel like wim wenders, the director of wings of desire, would not be super happy to see his beloved ode to berlin end up on a blog that is mostly-ish about fashion but, whatever. this film isn’t especially fashion heavy like the other two but it is so beautiful, every word, every picture. it’s a love story to a city. it’s a love story to love. it’s a love story to life.

mostly black and white, it will occasionally blast into color and give you the greatest of shocks. “the world is such an amazing place!”,  you will think, “i didn’t know!”. set with adoration in the bleakness of berlin late 80’s (with a surprise nick cave guest spot! could this movie BE cooler?) it follows the story of an angel who becomes fascinated  by a circus performer, the etherial marion the acrobat. played beautifully by solveig dommartin. columbo is also in it. it’s amazing. there’s really no key outfit to this movie, just some fun bright circus colors, the colors of berlin and the graffiti and the architecture there. so i just had fun playing with what i thought marion would dress like.

it was hard to post something that didn’t look like porn off the american apparel website (which, sadly and gladly? i don’t know how i feel about that place, is where you go for 80’s inspired basic pieces) but i found this cute red turtle neck dress for $32…but remember when buying from AA always buy like 6 sizes bigger then you are. okay, enough with the AA frowning upon.

i loved this beautiful, exquisite burberry coat (can i get enough burberry coats? no i cannot) in purple over the red, having fun with my circus theme but not going too far. plus, marion wears trenches in the film. everyone wears trenches in the film. this coat is $1,084.

next we got some steve madden duffled boots with a fun fringe that isn’t too western for europe i don’t think clocking in at $159.90

finally, accessories. well, she’d need some sensible black stockings for that outfit because berlin is COLD in the winter time, she could pop into KaDeWe for those suckers and you could fly to berlin and do the same (or go to macys). marion loves big red lips, so again i’d send her to mac, because they do that well for people who understand lipstick (not me, sad to report).  then we have silver art deco earrings by hq design for $157

and last but not least for that wild red, pre-tori amos (tori amos copied it) hair i have some fun peacock feathers. marion needs feathers because she is an acrobat and closer to angels then she knows.

even though this picture looks very fancy, i can guarantee that YOU who are probably closer to bankruptcy then a glam career with the circus, can make that headband for under $7. why do i say this? because despite my earlier “i’m not maria von trapp” bit, i did make two feather headbands with a friend this summer that are NICER then the ones i see for sale for $30 and we made them for under $5. so there’s my dab of thrify this post. and here’s my dab of columbo, who really makes the film.

and please, please, pretty please, go check out these movies if you have not yet! they are so wonderful and beautiful and will make you feel all kinds of sad pangs and wild joys. if you watch them for the first time, i would love to hear you thoughts.

ain’t art grand?

If you are into cinematography and stylistic elements in films then you will like this. The fashion and design circa ’60s Hong Kong are pretty sick too.

Cari lettori, tra poche settimane si chiuderà il primo decennio del nuovo secolo: è tempo di bilanci!

Quali sono stati i film più importanti di questi ultimi dieci anni? E quali invece dimenticheremo in fretta? Le classifiche sono sempre discutibili, faziose, parziali ed in fondo impossibili, quando si tratta di opere, che aspirano ad essere chiamate arte.

Eppure il cinema vive da sempre di premi e riconoscimenti: sia quello americano, sia quello europeo, attraverso i festival, i concorsi, le rassegne.

Ed allora ci mettiamo in gioco anche noi di Stanze di Cinema: vi proporremo, una volta alla settimana, le nostre scelte e vi chiederemo di votare i film che più avete amato, anno per anno, a partire dal 2000 e sino al prossimo Avatar, in uscita il 15 gennaio 2010.

Siccome la stagione cinematografica italiana comincia a settembre e finisce a giugno, il primo confronto sarà sulla stagione 2000/2001, con l’aggiunta di qualche film uscito prima, da gennaio a giugno.

Non ci saranno invece quei film distribuiti in Italia nel 2000, ma che sono stati prodotti ed hanno avuto la loro “prima” nel 1999: Magnolia, ad esempio, oppure The Insider.

Ecco i nostri primi 15: in testa l’epocale In the mood for Love, seguito dal pamphlet di Soderbergh sulla lotta al narcotraffico e dal musical tristissimo di Von Trier con Bjork e Catherine Deneuve.

A seguire il trionfo wuxia di Ang Lee con Zhang Ziyi, l’ultima Palma d’oro italiana, firmata Nanni Moretti, il rewind originalissimo di Nolan, i cavalieri di Olmi e gli studenti di Wonder Boys, dal romanzo di Michael Chabon.

Chiudono la prima decina, l’incursione americana di Kitano e l’unico grande film di Shyamalan, con uno ieratico Bruce Willis ed il diabolico Samuel Jackson.

Ora tocca a voi! Avete tre preferenze e potete indicare anche film che noi non abbiamo incluso.

VOTATE !!!

Wong Kar Wai | 2000

I first saw this film in mid 2004, at that time I’d already dropped out of University to pursue my dream of directing films.  Armed with a myriad of cinematic literature from the local library I would often rent films as much for technical reasons as enjoyment. Many artists (upon deciding to pursue their art professionally) experience a similar phase of weighting their focus towards the technicalities of the craft as opposed to the more intangible creative aspect. I’ve often thought the ‘head vs heart’ contrast that exists within art is especially exaggerated in film-making due to its reliance upon technology but I suppose that’s a topic for another post. I believe the point I wanted to make, prior to that digression, was that ‘In the Mood for Love’ completely disarmed me.  Within the first ten minutes I was no longer thinking of lens selection, initiated motion or any other film technique I was simply enjoying a story.  WKW is a director whose passion for storytelling is obvious in every frame. His ability to keep his characters raw while placing them in wonderfully composed and fabulously vibrant shots is unprecedented. Likely this is partly due to his methods, often shooting without a script and over extended periods of time (rumor has it that in the mood for love was shooting for 15 months) he relies heavily on improvisation yet it never feels as if the film is without intention. Not only did this film solidify WKW as a director who’s films I had to see but it introduced me to the work of Maggie Cheung (Hero, 2046) and brought Tony Leung to the forefront of my attention (Infernal Affairs, Lust Caution). In my opinion, Tony Leung’s screen presence ranks among the very best, one need look no further than ‘Flowers of Shanghai’ to see a master actor at work.

Once again, as great films tend to be, this is a film that is exceptional on every level.  All the components that make up a great piece of cinema are  contained within WKW’s signature style which can only be described as stunning.  If you haven’t seen it, rent it, you’ll inevitably become a WKW fan! If you have seen it, I’d love to hear your take on this great piece of modern cinema!

Ho visto per la prima volta questo film nel 2000 quando uscì nelle sale.
Forse non ero pronta o forse non era la serata giusta. Fatto sta che mi ricordo bene che accolsi la scritta “the end” con un certo sollievo. Mi era parso un film inutile, noioso e lungo, troppo lungo. Questa premessa è necessaria giusto per farvi capire come le cose a volte possano cambiare.

Mi è capitato di rivederlo ieri sera, grazie ad una prima serata su Sky, e ne sono rimasta affascinata. Avevo già iniziato a ritrattare il mio giudizio su Wong Kar-Wai dopo “My Blueberry Nights” (altro cineconsiglio se avete voglia di una delicata storia d’amore, dolce come una fetta di torta di mirtilli, in cui c’è uno dei più bei baci della storia del cinema).

Non è un regista semplice il signor Kar-Wai. Usa la camera in modo anticonvenzionale (sfruttando angoli, specchi, “pieni” e “vuoti”), compie difficili salti spazio-temporali, ma riesce a rendere emozioni e stati d’animo in maniera raffinata e sublime.

La storia in sé non è niente di nuovo: anni 60, Hong Kong, lui e lei. Diventano amici perché scoprono che i rispettivi coniugi sono amanti. L’amicizia si trasforma in qualcosa di più ma… “non dobbiamo essere come loro”.
“Fu un momento imbarazzante, lei se ne stava timida a testa bassa per dargli l’occasione di avvicinarsi, ma lui non poteva non ne aveva il coraggio, allora lei si voltò e andò via”.

Possiamo definirlo un classico “melò”, anche se sorprende che sia stato realizzato da un cineasta orientale. Un paragone con Almodovar non mi sembra comunque azzardato.

Quello che lo differenzia è che in questo film, apparentemente, non accade nulla.

Si gioca tutto sull’interiorità dei personaggi, sulle loro emozioni trattenute, sul loro tormento. Che traspare impercettibile dai loro visi, dai loro gesti, e che trova sfogo solo tra le colonne di un tempio e nel fango che le sigilla per sempre.

Da vedere perchè: se siete animi sensibili, protagonisti, dialoghi e musiche non vi deluderanno. 

Det er nest siste dag på Film Fra Sør, med festforestilling hvor årets prisvinnere skal deles ut. Jeg har sitteplass høyt oppe i salen på Filmens Hus, men henger nede ved scenen med de andre fotografene.

Skuespiller Pajam Madjlessi tar imot publikumsprisen. (Foto: Oda Bhar)

Det første som deles ut er Publikumsprisen. Vinneren er For a Moment, Freedom (2008), som vil bli vist på NRK i løpet av påfølgende år. Det er en original film som ser et vanlig tema fra en ny vinkel: Flyktninger portretteres under venting i et transittland. Prisen mottas av skuespiller Payam Madjlessi, som var den første jeg intervjuet under festivalen. I takketalen håper han at filmen vil bidra til å gjøre vår holdning til flyktninger mer individuell og menneskelig. Han retter også en pekefinger mot vestlige lands restriktive flyktningpolitikk:

– Jeg ser min ambassadør i salen, den franske ambassadøren. Jeg vil gjerne si til ham: Herr ambassadør, Frankrike sendte tilbake tretti tusen flyktninger ifjor. Det er altfor mange!

Nina Kapoor er nyutnevnt leder for Fredskorpset. (Foto: Oda Bhar)

Den neste som taler er Nita Kapoor, indisk-norsk AP-politiker og nyutnevnt leder for Fredskorpset. Hun snakker om internasjonalt samarbeid, men jeg får ikke med meg detaljene. Hun forsvinner nesten bak den høye talerstolen, noe som fører til hektisk aktivitet i fotografrekka.

Produsent og Montages-medarbeider Agnethe S. Buus Jensen deler ut prisen for beste dokumentar. (Foto: Oda Bhar)

Dokumentarfilmprisen deles ut av Agnethe S. Buus Jensen, produsent i Ekkofilm og dessuten skribent i Montages. De øvrige medlemmene i juryen har vært produsent Helga Fjordholm og filmkritiker Truls Lie. Prisen går til Rough Aunties (2008), som er laget av Kim Longinotto. Filmen handler om en sørafrikansk organisasjon som hjelper misbrukte barn. Mye tyder på at juryen her har lagt vekt på rørende karakterer og viktig tematikk, snarere enn filmatisk originalitet, noe som ikke er uvanlig for dokumentarpriser. Etter min mening er det synd, fordi det undergraver dokumentarens mulighet til å framstå som selvstendig filmkunstsjanger, framfor en rent diskuterende sjanger av den typen vi kjenner fra tv-produksjon.

Det fantes uten tvil langt mer filmatisk spennende dokumentarer på festivalen, ihvertfall når det gjelder virkemidler, ikke minst den meksikanske El General (2009) av Natalia Almada. Både Almada og hovedperson i vinnerfilmen Rough Aunties, Jackie Branfield, har forøvrig kommet til orde hos meg tidligere denne uka, under debatten om kvinner og film.

Juryen for FIPRESCI-prisen besto av Karen Moe Møllerop, Marius Vartdal Kristoffersen og Jon Iversen. (Foto: Oda Bhar)

FIPRESCI-prisen er en internasjonal filmkritikerpris som går til beste film i et sideprogram kalt Nye Retninger. Premien er støtte til dvd-lansering i Norge med distribusjon gjennom Platekompaniet. Juryen besto av filmjournalistene Karen Moe Møllerop, Marius Vartdal Kristoffersen og Jon Iversen, og prisen går til den thailandske A Moment in June (2008), regissert av O. Nathapon.

Karen Moe Møllerop deler ut FIPRESCI-prisen til A Moment in June. (Foto: Oda Bhar)

Prisen blir delt ut av Karen Moe Møllerup, som legger vekt på filmens komplekse struktur, kombinert med røtter i lokal thailandsk kultur og fortellertradisjon. Jeg har sett filmen, og syntes den var et vakkert og ganske interessant forsøk på å følge i fotsporene til In the Mood for Love av Wong Kar-Wai. Også A Moment in June handler om en tapt kjærlighet i fortida, den har samme typen glidende estetiske bilder og undertrykte sensualitet, men er i tillegg en blanding av multiplotthistorie og metafilm om det å sette opp et teaterstykke.

Stillbilde fra vinner av Sølvspeilet, den kinesiske filmen City of Life and Death (2009).

Sølvspeilet går til beste film i Hovedprogrammet, og premien er støtte til import av filmen på norske kinoer. Prisen går til den kinesiske City of Life and Death (Nanjing! Nanjing!), regissert av Lu Chuan. Den vever sammen slag og individuelle skjebner i den grusomme krigen mellom Kina og Japan i 1937. Jeg har ikke sett filmen, men klippet vi så på Filmens Hus var skremmende og storslagent. Juryen som delte ut Sølvspeilet besto av direktør for Norsk Filminstitutt, Nina Refseth, spillefilmregissør Eva Sørhaug (Lønsj, 2008), kortfilmregissør Hisham Zaman (Bawke, 2005).

Produsent Paola Herrera mottar hederlig omtale for Parque Via (2008) av juryen for Sølvspeilet: Nina Refseth, Eva Sørhaug og Hisham Zaman. (Foto: Oda Bhar.)

Hederlig omtale gikk også til den meksikanske filmen Parque Via, om en portner som får problemer når huset han har passet i 30 år blir solgt. Denne filmen har jeg sett, og den var i langsomste laget for meg, men publikum skal ha likt den godt på festivalen. Produsent Paola Herrera, som er bosatt i Norge og tidligere har jobbet bl.a. med sin berømte landsmann Carlos Reygadas, var tilstede og tok imot æren under seremonien.

Regissør Kore-eda har med seg egen tolk under seremonien. I bakgrunnen ses skuespiller Pajam Madjlessi, som mottok publikumsprisen, og jurymedlem Agnethe S. Buus Jensen. (Foto: Oda Bhar.)

Vi er nå kommet til den gjeveste prisen på festivalen, Film fra Sørs ærespris. Den går ikke til en enkeltfilm, men til en filmskaper for hele produksjonen hans, et såkalt «framragende bidrag til filmkunsten». Det er tradisjon for å gi denne til en utenlandsk storhet som gjester festivalen, og gjerne er gjenstand for et retrospektiv i programmet. I år går prisen til japanske Kore-eda Hirokazu, kjent for langsomme, følsomme filmer om nære relasjoner, fortalt i et realistisk fortellerspråk med utstrakt bruk av symboler. Hans nye film Still Walking (2008) har ordinær premiere på norske kinoer 30. oktober.

Den japanske filmskaperen Kore-eda Hirokazu med æresprisen. (Foto: Oda Bhar.)

Kore-eda holder dessverre ingen takketale, noe jeg antar handler om språkproblemer, siden han under hele seremonien sitter med egen tolk og blir fortalt hva som skjer, uansett om det snakkes norsk eller engelsk. Han er heller ikke kjent for å være spesielt kroppslig uttrykksfull, men det er kanskje mulig å se antydningen til et smil?

Festivalsjef Lasse Skagen og programsjef Julie Ova. (Foto: Oda Bhar.)

Til slutt takker generalene Lasse Skagen (festivalsjef) og Julie Ova (programsjef) sine medarbeidere, både de offisielle, som (såvidt) får plass på scenen, og alle de anonyme frivillige, som er helt nødvendige for at Film Fra Sør-festivalen kan finne sted. Og mens de fine kjolene rader seg opp foran publikum slår det meg at ihvertfall denne filmfestivalen ikke har noen problemer med kvinnerepresentasjonen.

Film Fra Sør 2009: Landets vakreste festivalstab? (Foto: Oda Bhar)

Etter prisutdelingen er det klart for avslutningsfilmen, den chilenske La Nana (The Maid). Det er et kammerdrama om en selvutslettende hushjelp som har tjent en familie i tjue år, og forviklingene når hun brått får andre tjenere å forholde seg til. Skal de hjelpe henne, slik fruen påstår? Eller er de konkurrenter? Filmen er severdig og full av svart humor. Den vises også ikveld, 18. oktober kl 21 på Filmens Hus. Det er altså noen FFS-visninger igjen, selv om prisene er delt ut. Søndagens program finner du her.

Kore-eda bukker høflig japansk som takk for hedersprisen. (Foto: Oda Bhar)

For en nærmere gjennomgang av den offisielle siden av prisutdelingen, med juryens fullstendige begrunnelser, gå gjerne til denne artikkelen publisert av Montages’ redaktør Eirik Smidesang Slåen igår kveld.

(Denne reportasjen blir også publisert på Montages.)

  In the Mood for Love . Dragoste la prima vedere. In notele de varf, trandafirul simbolizeaza dragoste la prima vedere crand o legatura intre magnolie si tamarinda.

In the Mood for Love … Indragostit. Inima este precum o poveste de dragoste: la inceput delicata datorita iasomiei si lacramioarei, apoi devine mult mai senzuala si profunda datorita lemnului de cedrusi trandaafirului rosu, simbolul dragostei pasionale.

In the Mood for Love … Dragoste eterna. Notele de baza sunt un imn al dragostei construite in jurul moscului alb si incalzite de Lemnul de Santal Rosu si Ambra.

  FAMILIA OLFACTIVA:

 Floral Ambrat Lemnos Notele de varf:  bergamota, portocala amara, magnolie, trandafir alb, tamarinda

Note de mijloc: floare de portocal, lacramioare, iasomie, trandafir rosu, lemn de cedru

Note de baza: ambra, mosc alb, lemn de santal.

in which i chronicle my Wong Kar-wai fan-girling pilgrimage to locations of his best films (in my opinion).

mongkok

Mong Kok
—
one of my favorite places in HK with its mix of tiangges, street food, pocket factory outlets and vertical malls. so much unlike Central where everything’s formal and refined, here it’s in-your-face marketing, neon lights competing for your attention and a down-home energy. you can probably find anything here – basic necessities to knick knacks to food to Jesus. most of the Jesus-loving folk were girls – pretty girls, i might add.

frank and i noted that this is probably where “tiangge” was born. it has at least 3 long streets that group the merchandise into girls’ stuff, gadgets and i think the 3rd was sportswear which we never got to find. most of the stuff sold at the ladies’ market are bootlegs – a thriving industry from where i come from. we only managed to buy these cute toothbrush holders for pasalubong. there are also stalls that sell better quality cheongsams, HK souvenirs and t-shirts that i figure are way cheaper than in tourist spots such as the Peak.

after more walking around, we chanced upon a street which mostly sold street food, and most of the patrons were Chinese. it was a relief from the sight of tourists haggling and complaining about the bootlegs over at the ladies’ market. frank bought takoyaki (with real tako/octopii!!) and i kinda regret not sampling other exotic street food. i shoulda at least tried the crepes and pushed away all consternations of gastrointestinal tract-related ailments.

on another note, i just found that Mong Kok’s another Wong Kar-wai film location for his directorial debut, “As Tears Go By” about HK foot soldiers getting into gang fights and stuff. starred Jacky Cheung, Andy Lau and Maggie Cheung wherein the latter 2 played lovers. i think they even had a fight scene on the very same street with the tiangges. i was actually on the lookout for triads, but couldn’t identify any shifty-looking guys or extortionist types.

at the mid-levels escalator doing an anna wintour backside

Mid-levels Escalator
—
said to be the longest escalator around, we took the mid-levels escalator on a whim. it wasn’t really part of the IT, but we had some free time and we thought it would be a great way to get to the Peak. lots of small cafes and stores along the way and apparently, they weren’t set up for the residents in the area but in fact for tourists because the escalator has become an attraction as of late. lots of residential condos too and sloping streets, much like San Francisco. the buildings were too close to each other, i felt claustrophobic already.

browsing through our pictures after getting back, i only realized then that some scenes from “Days of Being Wild” were shot on the escalator. tony leung’s character’s shabby apt was right beside the escalator which i estimate to be located near central just because it didn’t look as affluent as the mid-levels. there were a couple of scenes when his flight attendant girlfriend would wave goodbye at him crouching on the escalator. that was such a sweet sweet sequence, i still can’t forgive myself for forgetting.

chungking express

Chungking Mansions/Chungking Express
—
we were looking for a place to lunch around tsim sha tsui when we serendipitously saw a cafe de coral sign in a generic building along Nathan Road. a trash can that bore the name “Chunking Express” would get me all excited later after we had our fill of “cha siu fan” (bbq-soy pork). i even wanted to take a picture of the trash can if not for Frank’s vehement objections about not wanting to be apprehended on foreign soil and going to jail and such. i quickly dashed to the street and found that the “Chungking Express” mall was right under Chungking Mansions – the location for Wong Kar-wai’s chase scenes in his eponymous movie “Chungking Express”. what the what?! of course i took pictures – but only of the outside. i didn’t get to take any of the inside since i figured we’ll be going back to Kowloon the next day, so we can easily swing by and besides we needed to stick to the IT kunuhay.

goldfinch at night (i'm even too lazy to make clever captions)

Goldfinch Restaurant
—
one of the key locations of only my most favorite, bestest romantic movie of all time, “In the Mood for Love”. there were some scenes in “2046″ shot here as well (the ones where Chow Mo-wan was sulking his way into his futuristic story). i was able to search their address online, some reviews from wkw fans and decided this is where i will have my fancy birthday dinner. i had the address and a map, but again no directions. we went in the general direction of causeway bay, according to the address indicated. thankfully, causeway bay is a busy, well-lit area that’s not easy to get lost in. in a matter of minutes, we were able to find the street and the familiar “cafe de goldfinch” sign. the door was kinda small and unremarkable though and we weren’t sure if it was the right door corresponding the sign. the “2046 meal” posted outside was our confirmation. still, we had apprehensions for going inside because there was no wait staff waving menus about and the closed entrance felt like a door into a secret, exclusive club where people might be doing orgies (see “Eyes Wide Shut”) or drinking elixirs of eternal youth (see “Death Becomes Her”). but i was pretty determined to complete my Wong Kar-wai experience and so i pushed that door and went inside. and it was just as i imagined it – dimly lit, vintage interiors, muddled mirrors, very romantic lighting in booths, and charmingly out-of-place banderitas and Christmas lights all around, perfectly attuned to my excitement that could almost equal Christmas morning.

it was past 7pm, i think so the house was packed and the diners were well into their main course. luckily, we were promptly seated at an empty booth near the wash room (not so lucky, but i let it slide). we ordered steaks – black pepper steak for me and the goldfinch steak for frank, both well-done – and drinks – port wine for me and a lemon coke for frank. in my frenzy of taking pictures, i forgot to order the milk tea which is supposedly good. they gave us complimentary salad that’s composed of the usual greens, pepper, and dressed with a sweet-sour vinaigrette that tasted oddly like atsara. then the steaks came and they were huge. they were served in sizzling plates with embossed images of cattle or pig like in Pinoy restaurants. i saw that their liquor cabinet stocked bottles of San Miguel beer. the Pinoy spirit is alive in this place. so anyway, we slowly consumed our steaks one bite at a time so we could barely talk. but the rest of the tables were merrily chatting over their lobsters, steaks, ribs, etc. nope, i didn’t see any sulking, quiet guys around. we started feeling self-conscious and tried to sneak in random words in between bites.

my beef pepper steak was ok, i guess, but it wasn’t spectacular (as in no fireworks, musical numbers jumping out of it and i wasn’t breaking into song either). frank’s steak was no better. i’d give the restaurant the benefit of the doubt and blame myself instead for making it well-done. (i will later learn from anthony bourdain that it’s not a good idea to order well-done, no matter how concerned you are of tapeworms and such. well-done translates to a big chunk of carbonized meat with its meaty juices sucked out of it. so that explains why steaks always tasted so dry to me). i forced myself to finish most of it because it was only the most expensive dinner i had in my life. at the next table, a boy who was about 8 or 10 was having the same thing as i had in the same serving size and he still had time for some heart-to-heart with his dad.

and so goes my Wong Kar-wai tour. i have seen Hong Kong in Wong Kar-wai’s sunglasses-clad eyes through the stories he told of beautiful, wounded souls getting by in a bright, neon-colored, jasmine tea-scented city. i went there wondering if my 75/50 astigmatism-laden eyes will see the same. i may have approximated that HK he had in mind (and no, it’s not about those wkw-inspired pictures, yikes).

The origins of film were a time swollen with originality. Nothing was certain and everything was left ambiguous. Modern times show a tendency for the finite, a world where no factor is left unclear or a question unanswered. Carol Reed’s “The Third Man” ends with Holly Martins, the main character, standing roadside after a funeral waiting to talk to Anna Schmidt, the female lead and girlfriend to the deceased, the moment she crosses his path. However, Anna reaches Holly’s position and simply keeps walking. Nothing is said, nothing is done, nothing is certain. The future of these two characters will never be known, their fates lie entirely within our minds.

How rare it is to find films that channel the imaginative part of our brains. Wong Kar-wai’s “In the Mood for Love” draws you near, leans in close, and just before it spills its secrets, pulls away. The lead characters, Mr. Chow and Mrs. Chan, pose as innocent bystanders of the affair that both of their spouses are committing. They pose, because the feelings between them have grown from neighborly to romantic. Mr. Chow and Mrs. Chan are willing to see each other just as long as they can convince themselves that they’re different from their spouses. However, Mr. Chow inevitably informs Mrs. Chan that he loves her. Mrs. Chan offers no embrace. She accepts this as a reason to discontinue their relationship and so it ends. One year later, Mrs. Chan calls Mr. Chow (now living in Singapore) but remains silent. Three more years, Mr. Chow visits the old apartment complex and hears of a woman with a child living where Mrs. Chan once resided. Mr. Chow leaves without realizing the woman is Mrs. Chan.

Wong Kar-wai places importance upon the reality of great romances, igniting  in the viewer’s mind what could’ve been, what should be, but all the while reminding us that these things seldom work out the way we’d like. The love between Mr. Chow and Mrs. Chan will remain dormant because both are too proud to become that which they’ve grown to hate. The individualism of both characters is too strong to allow for all the usual Hollywood notes to come into play. There are no overt expressions of love; no, rather the love between these characters is written in their subtle gestures towards one another.

The repression of their movements act as a perfect illustration of the 1962 setting that the characters inhabit. The buildings, the decor, the hairstyles, and the outfits are all covered handsomely with style and strapped tight with suppression. The extravagance coating the outside world conflicts with the muteness that society expects from its denizens. In Wong Kar-Wai’s world, the slightest touch of a hand or a simple brushing of shoulders carries with it more romanticism and sexual energy than most sex scenes. To use a term coined by author Edith Wharton – it was an age of innocence.

The actors play as photographs thanks to the combined effort of Wong Kar-Wai and his go-to cinematographer, Christopher Doyle. Wong Kar-Wai shows a penchant for letting faces linger on screen, allowing a mood to soak in before moving the film forward. The noirish reimagining of Hong Kong circa 1960s fully bathes in all the lavish costumes and burgeoning romances that populates its dark alleys. This world is one of darkness with only glimpses of light shining through.

The last scene in the film finds Mr. Chow visiting a Buddhist temple and whispering unknown secrets into a small hole before he finally covers it with mud. He speaks earlier in the film about an old tradition of carving a hole into a tree, whispering into the hole whatever unshared secrets you possessed, and then covering that hole with mud to ensure they never escaped. In a way, it’s not an ending at all. Wong Kar-wai makes an ending so ambiguous that it forces the viewer to write their own continuation. Is it regret that Mr. Chow whispers into the hole? Does his secret even pertain to Mrs. Chan? The mysteries hiding behind that patch of mud are up to you to decide.

Thursday evening I saw Wong Kar-Wai’s romantic drama In the Mood for Love. It’s a film about a fragile and adulterous relationship between a man and a woman, but – more importantly – it’s a period film about the incessant and irreversible passage of time.

The film’s basic plot portrays the relationship between a man and a women who move into next-door apartments on the same day and live strangely symmetrical lives, simultaneously discovering the infidelity of their spouses (whose faces are never revealed). They meet to comfort each other and even act out dialogues between their spouses and their spouses’ secret lovers or rehearse confrontations they plan to have with their spouses. But though they swear to remain faithful to their marriages, their relationship intensifies as they progress from friendship to artistic partnership and beyond.

In the Mood for Love is set during between 1962 and 1966, and the plot can be hard to follow in that shots frequently cut directly into others taking place days later. In this way the film’s progression resembles the way we recall past events, following a path of minor and major events along a choppy chronology. At one point a scene is even followed by one that takes place some hours earlier. Like one’s memory too, the film occasionally concentrates on particular moments, highliting them with slow-motion and background music so that the character’s movements seem intricately orchestrated. These moments range from the romantic but relatively mundane, like the two main characters passing each other on a flight of stairs or meeting at a restaurant, to the more dramatic, like the female lead running through a hospital to visit her male counterpart. The frequent placement of out-of-focus objects in the foreground gives much of the film a murky, half-remembered quality. Wong Kar-Wai also repeatedly uses repition repetitively to evoke the recursive nature of memory and the patterns of everyday life; we see, for example, the same shot of a ticking office clock several times, and the main characters always dine at the same restaurant. The soundtrack, too, reinforces this rhythm by using pieces of music as recurring themes.

The female lead wears colourfol dresses that remind me of an interesting historical fact I once heard on television: that many Hawaiian shirts were once made of a synthetic fabric that had a reputation for bursting into flames with little warning when exposed to something like a lit cigarette. I could imagine all those colorful dresses bursting into flames and becoming ashes in a matter of seconds. I think this is just the sort of thought the director wanted to cultivate in his audience. The film’s overwhelming emotion is that of nostalgia, its ultimate revelation that the world of today will be irretrievably gone tomorrow.

The last scene really drives the film’s themes home. While most of the action takes place in the crowded cities of Hong Kong and Singapore, the final scene features the male lead burying the remnants of his past at an ancient temple in the Cambodian countryside entering a beautiful but totally alien world alone. That is how we move into the future.

FILM:

This is a movie about loneliness, longing, and those things we forbid ourselves to have or feel. Wong Kar Wai  pairs Mr. Chow and Mrs. Chan, neighbors and strangers, who come to comprehend their partners’ affair. This movie creates a partnership that, while pushing two people together as fervently as someone once shoved you and a boy into a closet for seven minutes in heaven, ultimately leaves the two characters more alone and detached than before.  Yet nothing is more romantic than unrequited love…

Mr. Chow and Mrs. Chan’s relationship is built on a shaky foundation- one of loss almost to the point of mourning. And so this movie feels much like a funeral. No matter what exciting progress you’re making in life, when there is death you must halt everything and put on your stiff black dress that hangs silently in the back of your closet because you dare not mix it in with other memories. You must caulk up the cracks where happiness could seep in and close yourself off, whether or not this is of your own doing or because society demands it be so.

SEX:

Oh how bad we yearn for the blow-out scene where they let their lust get the best of them, tear one another’s clothes off, and madly roll around on the floor. They never get what they want, and neither do we.

FASHION:.

William Chang designs most films for War Kai Wong and has a major knack for these period pieces. Mrs. Chan’s dresses fit her body as well as any latex outfit might. Yet they’re elegant as well, and so we see the double-edged sword of sexuality represented through her clothing. One half is sensual and lustful and the other half must remain reserved and act like an adult.

The symbolism continues when at one point, Mrs. Chow stands in the foreground in a red dress, while Mr. Chow stands behind her, wearing a green shirt (or possibly only bathed in green light). The contrast is obviously planned. He feels yes she feels no. He’s willing and she’s still at a standstill.

Omdat het al anderhalve maand geleden is. In die tijd schrijft Paul Baeten Gronda een half boek of zo. Mad Men Season 2 was dé kijkervaring van de zomer, maar er viel nog fraais te bewonderen. On y va:

• Crank (Mark Neveldine & Brian Taylor, 2006). Beetje vergelijkbaar met de gemiddelde Vlaamse rockster: stijf van de coke, in handen van goeie marketeers, veel flash en geen kloot te vertellen. Maar die hersenloze manie is net ook de film z’n troef. Crank zorgt met z’n opgejutte snelheid, zelfrelativerende humor en over the top shoot-outs à la Shoot ‘em Up dat het al net zo’n guilty pleasure is als Doomsday. (***)
• When The Levees Broke: A Requiem In Four Acts (Spike Lee, 2006). Monumentaal project van Spike Lee, die ermee wil laten zien wat een humanitair fiasco Hurricane Katrina met zich meebracht. Het is Spike Lee, en natuurlijk weet je dan dat er met de vinger gewezen gaat worden, en ook naar wie, maar dit blijft toch een schrijnende documentaire die moeiteloos meer dan vijf uur (!) weet te boeien. Het intrigerende is dat de insteek niet direct van Lee komt: er is geen flauwe voice-over, geen vertelstructuur die aangepast wordt aan verwijtende argumenten, etc. In plaats daarvan wordt het hele verhaal verteld door de mensen wiens verhaal het meest relevant is: de betrokkenen, de inwoners van New Orleans en omstreken, zij die hebben, houden en vaak ook naasten kwijtraakten. Het loopt grotendeels chronologisch, van de alarmerende weersvoorspellingen tot de voorbereidingen en evacuatie. Natuurlijk liep het daar al snel mis: de toestand werd niet ernstig genoeg genomen, te veel mensen hadden niet de tijd, de mogelijkheid of de middelen om de stad te ontvluchten. Sommigen waren ook te koppig. Uiteindelijk kwam het er op neer dat de stad de kracht van de orkaan had kunnen overleven. Datzelfde kon niet gezegd worden van de dijken, die van inferieure kwaliteit waren en ervoor zorgden dat ze stad in geen tijd onder water stond. Veel tijd wordt gespendeerd aan de diensten die normaal zorgen voor de bouwwerken en de gevolgen die de krakkemikkige structuur van de dijken voor de inwoners had. Meest ophefmakend van al was natuurlijk het feit dat het dagen duurde voor er van overheidswege ingegrepen werd. Bush en zijn kabinet leken de ernst van de situatie pas te begrijpen toen het al veel te laat was en inwoners het al begeven hadden in de hete temperatuur, zonder medische aandacht en andere voorzieningen. Opnieuw pijnlijk om vast te stellen dat de grootste, machtigste natie tere wereld, een player die een budget spendeert aan militaire rotzooi dat volstaat om een half continent van alle noodzakelijke middelen te voorzien, niet het benul heeft om in te grijpen als zijn eigen burgers liggen te verzuipen, geen plan heeft voor noodsituaties in eigen land. Het is op dat moment dat When The Levees Broke zijn meest verontwaardigde posities inneemt, en de inwoners, gaande van muzikanten, lokale politici, brandweerlieden en gewone burgers, kunnen dan ook niet geloven dat deze gigantische fuck up had kunnen gebeuren in hun natie. Families werden (letterlijk en figuurlijk) uit elkaar gerukt, gedeporteerd naar andere staten en aan hun lot overgelaten. Deprimerende kost, maar tegelijkertijd ook een bemoedigend document dat veel mooie, kleine verhalen te bieden heeft, van loyaliteit, onbaatzuchtigheid en verenigdheid, de menselijke wil om zich een weg te banen uit de misère. Met dank aan Batarang. (****1/2)
• The Sin Eater (Brian Helgeland, 2003). Ook bekend als The Order in sommige contreien. Gaat lopen met de titel van slechtste, meest overbodige film die ik dit jaar zag. Suf verhaal, amateuristisch acteerwerk, visueel flauw. Slaapverwekkende brol. Niet te geloven dat dit kwam van de scenarist van LA Confidential. (1/2)
• The Painted Veil (John Curran, 2006). W.S. Maugham-verfilming met Edward Norton en Naomi Watts. Beide acteurs doen uitstekend hun best en vooral Watts maakt opnieuw indruk. (***1/2)
• The Dam Busters (Michael Anderson, 1955). Leutige oorlogsfilm over een geleerde die een plan bedenkt om de Nazi’s een loer te draaien door hun stuwdammen met een nieuwe techniek te bombarderen. Boeiend om verschillende extra redenen: 1) het laatste half uur van de film (de bombardementen) zouden van rechtstreekse invloed geweest zijn op het einde van de eerste Star Wars (als ze die metalen bol vaneen blazen, etc; 2) er staat naar verluidt een remake aan te komen van Peter Jackson (en u hoopt natuurlijk met mij dat die beter is dan zijn veel te lange King Kong,) en, meest opmerkelijk: 3) er loopt een hond rond die Nigger heet. U leest dat goed. (***1/2)
• Such Hawks, Such Hounds (Jessica Hundley & John Srebalus, 2008). Bij mijn weten de eerste ’serieuze’ poging om een documentaire over doom(metal), stonerrock en heavy psychedelica te maken. Maakt een beetje een overbodige omweg via veertig jaar hardrock/metal-geschiedenis, door vooral bands erbij te slepen die in de underground verkeerden, maar wel cultfavorieten werden; Pentagram, Groundhogs, Saint Vitus, The Obsessed, het zijn allemaal bands die een essentiële rol speelden in het ontstaan en de evolutie van enkele nauw verwante genres. Uiteindelijk gaat het echter om een exploratie van de hedendaagse scènes, waarbij enkele bands/artiesten meer belicht worden, zoals Comets On Fire, Wino, Sleep, High On Fire, Nebula, Dead Meadow, Sunn 0)), Om, etc. Het gaat over het belang van artwork, de concerten, drugs, sound, kleinschaligheid, nostalgie, etc… Er komen heel wat relevante betrokkenen aan het woord (Brant Bjok, Scott Reeder, Matt Pike, Greg Anderson, Joe Preston, etc) en het is goed om te zien dat enkele halfvergeten bands eindelijk het krediet krijgen dat ze verdienen (Fatso Jetson). Je kan zitten klagen over het feit dat er met bijna geen woord gerept wordt over Queens Of The Stone Age of The Melvins, maar het is duidelijk van het begin dat het vooral de underground wil belichten. Deze bands en muzikanten zijn iconisch binnen het genre, maar uiteindelijk spelen de meesten van hen nog steeds in kleine clubs. Tenzij Roadburn zich weer aandient, natuurlijk. Van Roadburn gesproken: Goatsnake doet een reunie,  en ik ben er blij om.  (****)
• Alfie (Lewis Gilbert, 1966). Klassieker van de Britse cinema, die de tand des tijds niet al te best doorstaan heeft. Hier en daar wat gewaagde grapjes en Michael Caine is bij momenten echt geweldig, maar het is ook allemaal zo statisch en stijf dat het aanvoelt alsof je naar en toneelstuk zit te kijken. En toneel, da’s natuurlijk voor mietjes. *wink* (***1/2)
• Fargo (Joel Coen, 1996). Nog eens gekeken. Funny stuff, yah! (****1/2)
• Ed Wood (Tim Burton, 1994). Ongetwijfeld het hoogtepunt uit het oeuvre van Tim Burton en waarschijnlijk een van m’n favoriete films van de voorbije twintig jaar: grappig, creatief, visueel aantrekkelijk, met gewéldig acteerwerk van Johnny Depp en Martin Landau en, belangrijk, very quotable. (*****) Dit is slechts een van de vele onvergetelijke scènes:
• Carlito’s Way (Brian De Palma, 1993). Op elk vlak de meerdere van Scarface, met uitzondering van de overacting. De Palma slaagt er maar niet in om een relatie vlees en bloed tussen man en vrouw op het scherm te krijgen, maar het verhaal wordt verteld met zo veel flair (grotendeels natuurlijk dankzij de vrij ingehouden, klasserijke performance van Al Pacino) en zoveel visuele extravaganza (dat laatste half uur!) dat je niet anders kan dan bewonderen. (****1/2)
• Kes (Ken Loach, 1970). Vroege film van de gelauwerde Britse moralist. Eenvoudige film, overduidelijk gemaakt met een minuscuul budget en met amateur-acteurs, maar zo effectief als maar kan. Vergeet Billy Elliott. Weemoedig, pijnlijk en charmant en een pareltje van de sociaal-realistische cinema. (****1/2)
• Missing In Action (Joseph Zito, 1984). Yep, de film met Chuck Norris, de Amerikaanse Freddy De Kerpel, die als stoere militair Braddock (hey!) een groepje vergeten soldaten gaat bevrijden uit een of ander kamp in Zuidoost-Azië. Slechte muziek, slecht geacteerd, lullig verhaal, ongeloofwaardige explosies, standaard B-film camerawerk. The works! Misschien zelfs slechter dan Rambo II. (*1/2)
• David Murray – I’m A Jazzman (Jacques Goldstein, 2008). Documentaire over de man die in de Penguin Guide to Jazz nog de belangrijkst saxofonist van zijn generatie genoemd werd. Ik kan alleszins het machtige drieluik Ming / Home / Murray’s Steps aanbevelen: intense, passionele, woelige jazz die beweegt tussen de swing van Ellington, de broeierige structuren van Mingus en de free jazz van anderhalf decennium ervoor. Sindsdien is er een en ander gebeurd, heeft Murray in Europa gewoond en is hij een ware wereldburger geworden, die de wereld rondreist om culturen te absorberen in een poging om meer begrip te krijgen over zijn identiteit als zwarte Amerikaan. De livebeelden zijn stuik voor stuk de moeite – vooral de scènes met Milford Graves in zijn jonge jaren (die vurigheid!) en zijn spel in een afrikaanse funkband die ronduit verschroeiend uithaalt, maar de interviews vormen geen coherent verhaal, zijn vaak te algemeen, blijven op de vlakte en geven weinig inzicht in de motieven van de man. Een aanrader voor de fans, maar ook een gemiste kans. (***)
• The Sting (George Roy Hill, 1973). Al geleden sinds mijn kindertijd, en toch kon ik me naast de muziek (Scott Joplins rags) ook nog heel wat herinneren. Steeds een goed teken. Entertainend van de eerste tot de laatse minuut. (****)
• Milk (Gus Van Sant, 2008). Opmerkelijk conventionele biopic die het experimentele randje van Van Sants vorige films volledig mist. Gelukkig is er de performance van Sean Penn, die kameleongewijs weer een totaal ander figuurtje neerzet. Indrukwekkend om te zien wat hij doet met intonatie, energie en tics. Het is een grote performance. (***1/2)
• There Will Be Blood (Paul Thomas Anderson, 2007). Machtig epos met een trager ritme en een meer sobere stijl dan ’s mans meesterwerken Boogie Nights en Magnolia, maar met al even veel klasse. Meeslepend is het kernwood, zowel visueel als qua verhaal en vertolkingen. Daniel Day Lewis is waanzinnig intens als bezeten oliebaron die in predikant Paul Dano zijn tegenstander vindt. Een onvergetelijke film over ambitie, eenzaamheid, misantropie, fanatisme en gulzigheid, met bijna Bijbelse proporties en opnieuw een paar vijfsterrenoneliners. I DRINK YOUR MILKSHAKE! is er slechts een van. (*****)
• In the Mood For Love (Wong Kar Wai, 2000). Totaal andere kost, drijvend op subtiele hints, weemoedige beelden en voorzichtig sensuele muziek van Nat King Cole. Esthetisch sterk gestileerd en vol nostalgie die vast ook zal aanslaan bij al die fragiele Murakami-liefhebbers. (****)
• Teeth (Michael Lichtenstein, 2007). Boeiend concept, die vagina dentata, en het leidt onvermijdelijk tot enkele wansmakelijke scènes, o.m. bij de gynaecoloog (“I ain’t gonna bite”) en enkele bloederige vrijpartijen. Heeft qua stijl vooral veel weg van de tienergriezelprenten die mega waren aan het einde van de 90’s, maar weet zich toch te onderscheiden door een aantal onweerstaanbare grappen. (**1/2)
• Quantum Of Solace (Marc Foster, 2008). De actie is nog geconcentreerder dan in Casino Royale en de film oogt nog geschifter. Hypernerveuze, naar adrenaline stinkende prent met een adembenemend eerste kwartier en overdonderende scènes die keer op keer flirten met de chaos. Daniel Craig ziet er belabberd uit, vindt het toch niet nodig om te slapen en te eten en mag wat coole wisecracks uit z’n mouw schudden, en hij geraakt er mee weg ook. Verstand op nul (want dat verhaal, daar raakt geen mens wijzer uit) en vlammen maar. (***)

NP: Dinosaur Jr. – Beyond

- Chéri – 2009 – ♥♥♥ ½ -

di

Stephen Frears

Il regista inglese di Le Relazioni pericolose è tornato fra noi riproponendoci la sua cara Michelle Pfeiffer tutta a tiro in salsa Belle Epoque. Il film, tratto da un romanzo di Colette, si concentra sulla relazione impossibile fra una cortigiana, Lea, e il giovane figlio di madame Peloux, altra cortigiana che frequenta da una vita. La vicenda viene narrata sin dal momento in cui l’amore fra questi due debosciati nasce fino al momento in cui si conclude piuttosto drammaticamente. Il problema che affligge i due è naturalmente l’abissale differenza di età che li fa sembrare una madre e un figlio, ma c’è ben altro: la società opprimente così piena di gente eppure vuota di comprensione e amicizia, le convenzioni del matrimonio e del benessere… e la ingombrante, autoritaria, viperesca madame Peloux (una Kathy Bates ottima davvero), madre del giovane Chéri, che vuole nipoti e suocera giovane. Il film viene introdotto da una voce narrante inizialmente fastidiosa, ma che in conclusione serve a riempire i vuoti temporali che si creano con le svariate ellissi presenti nel racconto. Tutto viene retto da una Michelle Pfeiffer migliore rispetto ai suoi ultimi lavori, giustamente senza eccessivi ringiovanimenti, che fa parlare il suo personaggio nei momenti opportuni e con una saggezza d’altri tempi. Grandi espressioni di patimento e tribolazione amorosa, ma anche leggiadri e delicati costumi indossati magnificamente. La cornice piena di sfarzi parigini di inizio Novecento è accurata e fotografata deliziosamente dal franco-iraniano Darius Khondji, ciò non toglie che sia ridondante e un po’ fastidiosa, anche se – ammesso che abbiate un cuore sensibile alle storie d’amore impossibili che non per forza hanno ragione del loro essere nell’essere strappalacrime– vi si sorvola. Lo stile registico è ridodante quanto la sua cornice da film in costume, tuttavia è solido perché Frears è un inglese e fa film così da trent’anni. Lo aiuta molto la bravura di tutto il cast. Il giovane Chéri è il classico dandy dalla particolare bellezza, dunque lo interpreta Rupert Friend, che non potendo mostrare grandissime doti recitative alla pari delle colleghe anziane, e non potendo essere stato scelto per fare il nuovo 007, mostra qui svariate volte il corpo nudo in tutto il suo androgino fascino. Non c’è da chiedersi il perchè visto che il regista è dichiaratamente omosessuale (non mancano dei riferimenti nel film) e anche si capisce come mai Michelle, pur essendo brava, ormai abbia abbandonato mîse che non le si addicono più. La composizione della delicata e ben strutturata colonna musicale è stata affidata ad Alexandre Desplat, uno dei musicisti per film più attivi e interessanti del momento, che ha messo a punto dei leitmotiv accattivanti che se fossero stati accompagnati da scene al ralenti, avrebbe sicuramente ricreato un’atmosfera alla In the mood for love. Il film quindi pur non proponendo niente di nuovo, evita parecchi errori che invece spesso vengono commessi in film di questo genere e nel finale c’è un efficacissimo accavallamento di due tempi narrativi che, intrecciandosi, mettono in evidenza la forza teatrale del cinema di Frears, che per chiudere un film invece di mostrare l’epilogo per filo e per segno come fanno piattamente ad Hollywood, preferisce suggerirlo con il solo ausilio del tradizionale campo-controcampo e di una narrazione proiettata nel futuro.

(La cortigiana di mezzetà dovrebbe educare il giovane Chéri 

alle vie dell'amore senza cadere in tentazione. 

Questa la premessa, i fatti degenerarono in dissolutezze...)

(Madame Peloux - la fantastica Kathy Bates - in una vestaglina che è tutta una risata!)