Wong Kar Wai - Articles - Zimbio

My Blueberry Nights: Film Review

Sun, 10 Nov 2008 01:11:00 GMT

posted by gryffinmaster
Cinema as pure poetry in motion never made much sense to me, until I was exposed to Wong Kar-Wai's In The Mood For Love. Sure, I had seen certain mild and beautiful arthouse romances before, but they always seemed too engorged in their own efforts to indulge themselves that they failed to impress my slightly skewed view on "real" love. Then, one of the true masters of subtlety and passion enchanted me with his story of star-crossed infatuates lamenting over the depressive questionability of their marriages. As most were, my completely hooked nature over In The Mood For Love, alongside other personal favorites Chungking Express and Fallen Angels, had me excited to see what brevity he would bring upon his audience with his first English language picture, My Blueberry Nights.

What he brings us is something of a different flavor, no pun intended. Instead of choosing to drive a stake in our hearts and twist it about with the romanticism and churning passion between some tangibly troubled souls, Wong Kar-Wai's most recent film gravitates closer to a polarizing outlook on strangers and individuality than on the bonds formed through romance. Though it sounds heavier than his other work, strangely it turns out to be the opposite. My Blueberry Nights shows a softer, more lackadaisical side to this filmmaker's auteur powers, resulting in an easygoing and affectionate tale that focuses more on the stranger in the corner that shies away from making the kind of scenes that Wong Kar-Wai typically bathes in his gorgeously achieved visual design.

This stranger I refer to is Elizabeth, played by enchanting musician Norah Jones. She's a simple, honest girl with modest desires and a radiant heart - which just so happens to have been broken by, and this should come as no surprise to Kar-Wai enthusiasts, an unfaithful lover. The last time he was seen happens to be at a corner café in New York, owned by a waywardly placed ex-marathon runner Jeremy (Jude Law, Closer). Elizabeth's struggle with Jeremy over her ex-lover, as well as the fate of his keys, transforms into a weeks-long friendship that causes each of our main character's trials and highpoints to surface within poetic resonance inside their banter. Ah, this isn't happily ever after, though; instead of taking the easy route and sulking into another potentially harmful relationship, Elizabeth takes the road less traveled and disappears into the sunrise before their relationship can peak.

My Blueberry Nights is just getting started with its pathway, measured in miles and days that she strays away from that colorful corner café in New York. The core of Kar-Wai's film focuses on Elizabeth and not necessarily how she develops along the way, but how she impacts (and doesn't impact) the lives of those somewhat lost souls that she interacts with. She rubs elbows as a waitress in a Memphis bar with struggling alcoholic Arnie (David Strathairn, Good Night and Good Luck) fighting to regain his marriage to his promiscuous wife Sue Lynne (Rachel Weisz, The Fountain), along the way witnessing the loneliness and depression that comes with the territory when hiding behind our vices. Both Weisz and Strathairn make the most of their lack of chemistry within their eruptions, but Weisz takes her character to another level by giving her typically reserved and bookworm-ish charisma a feisty dash of spice. Straithairn, however, has an eerie effect with the solidity of his performance as a weathered alcoholic, one that felt faithful and haunting in the same breath.

Heavy focus on our necessary weaknesses is a key factor in the humanizing elements in My Blueberry Nights, and they all rain through beautifully as Elizabeth's pathway takes us from a sleepy little town with a busybody sort of bar to the shimmering lights of a casino outside of Vegas that draws close some of the more venomous creatures of our world. One of such biting characters is a raspy poker ace named Leslie, carried with gusto by Natalie Portman (Garden State). If Elizabeth was learning about the earnest nature of relationships when she absorbed Arnie and Sue Lynne's misfired bickering, then she was receiving a crash course in the fabric of distrust by soaking in Leslie's jaded scheming. Wong Kar-Wai crafts an interesting parallel between our honest weaknesses and the bizarre strength that they also stake within those that embody said problems. His analysis upon her character is a little thicker than her simplicity can really support, but the effects of Elizabeth's disarming honesty upon Leslie make up for it.

It's hard to throw together a review for a Wong Kar-Wai film without delving into its symbolism and compelling devices, which applies to My Blueberry Nights to equal measure. He uses the time mechanic, the separation of miles and days from New York, to give a sense of elasticity to Elizabeth's attachment to the central location for the film. With it, we feel that pull as she scours the land stretching in front of her for the resonance that she lacked when we first met her. It's all about experience, which is the great thing about Kar-Wai's efforts with this particular film. There's little bits to take away from the picture, but ultimately its more of a unobtrusive and laid back journey film that merely lets us in on the fact that the highly animated characters of our world, the Arnie's and Leslie's, aren't the only ones who soak in the ambiguous and twisted nature of this problematic and cynical existence.

Part of My Blueberry Nights' velvety splendor comes from the beauty to be seen down this pathway Elizabeth treks on to find herself. Wong Kar-Wai teams up with director of photography Darius Khondji, responsible for Jeunet's moody pieces Delicatessen and City of Lost Children, to craft a visual treat rife with lush palettes and sweeping shots that capture the abundant characters' eccentric and emotive movements. He spends his time separated behind some very familiar close-quartered facial shots and Kar-Wai's signature slow shutter-speed captures. Oh, but the color present here is ever so much in line with Wong Kar-Wai's eye in his other works, most closely resembling 2046 in its neon palette. Having the more leisurely rhythm of the story paves way for the smashing visuals and, as always, phenomenal soundtrack infused with jazzy chords and vocals.

My Blueberry Nights' potent essence, however, pivots completely around the effort of rookie actress Norah Jones, who carries Elizabeth with just enough subdued attitude and warmth to keep her believable as the girl in the shadows who we want to grow to love. She's got a certain kind of charisma that still shines through as she's overshadowed by the likes of Natalie Portman and Jude Law. It makes following her pathway of growth throughout My Blueberry Nights a worthwhile experience that's as comfortable and amiable as can be. Wong Kar-Wai's first English language film is a smooth yarn dyed with radiant colors, one that neglects to hit hard with its emotional punch but counterbalances with an experience that is akin to delving into a rich slice of pie. You know there's stuff with more substance out there, but boy does this particular slice of familiar flavor still taste sweet.

Ashes of Time (1994, Wong Kar-wai), the redux edition

Mon, 4 Nov 2008 12:54:39 GMT

posted by thestopbutton

I never know how to describe Ashes of Time. The first–and probably last–time I tried, I describe it as a mix of Magnolia and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. As difficult as it is to describe, it’s got to be impossible to advertise–a character-based martial arts film, where fight scenes lack any visceral impact. Wong stylizes them, but not for any entertainment value. Given he’s become a more recognized and marketable filmmaker since the film’s initial release, as this “redux” edition started, I wondered if he’d tried to make it more palatable to any of the fans he picked up following that Norah Jones music video he made.

Pleasingly–and surprisingly–he did not. Ashes of Time is as hostile to the passive filmgoer as ever.

What’s most amazing, in terms of the narrative, is how Wong approaches his storytelling. The film opens with a few minutes, then skips ahead an indeterminate period of time. Wong separates the film into seasons (a possible addition to the redux edition, but I’m not sure) and, at the third of five seasons, foretells the protagonist’s future. It’s a strange and wonderful move, playing with the point of storytelling–if the reader knows the ending at the beginning, it’s going to change how he or she experiences the narrative–but to reveal the ending as an aside, it’s an entirely different effect. In Ashes of Time, it contributes to the film’s surreality.

The film’s visual style is one of its most hostile features. Set in a panoramic desert, in a small village, Wong never shows the village in an establishing shot. The desert never gets a vista shot for narrative’s sake. There’s only one time he even comes close and then it’s to emphasize the shot’s singular presence in the film. Much of the film takes place inside Leslie Cheung’s house, which is occasionally seen from the exterior but certainly not long enough to give the viewer any real sense of it.

There’s a wonderful scene between Cheung and Brigitte Lin where it’s nothing but close-ups.

The film’s actors have a rather awkward task here. There are lots of monologues, lots of close-ups–Maggie Cheung basically just has a long, single shot monologue. They’re in ornate costumes, playing these historical, mythic characters, but delivering these humanizing, rendering lines. In addition to delivering the majority of these monologues, Leslie Cheung narrates almost all of the film–both exposition and internal reflection–giving him the hardest task.

Both the Tony Leungs–Chiu Wai and Ka Fai–have good roles. Chiu Wai has the flashier role, but the importance of Ka Fai’s performance gradually comes through. Lin’s excellent, as is Charlie Yeung in a smaller role. Maggie Cheung’s monologue–her delivery of it–is invaluable.

While Christopher Doyle’s photography is–as always–wonderful, it’s the editing here. William Chang and Patrick Tam out do any expectation. Ashes of Time gets better as it moves along, every pitch perfect. The omnipresent musical score–from Frankie Chan and Roel A. García–transports the viewer into Wong’s created world. While he based it–loosely–on a novel, what Wong does in Ashes of Time is create a setting the viewer cannot be familiar with, but can’t be foreign in either. It’s an immersive experience, one requiring active participation with wonderful result.

CREDITS

Directed by Wong Kar-wai; screenplay by Wong, based on a novel by Louis Cha; director of photography, Christopher Doyle; edited by William Chang and Patrick Tam; music by Frankie Chan and Roel A. García; production designer, Chang; produced by Jeffrey Lau, Jacky Pang Yee Wah and Wong; released by HKFM Releasing.

Starring Bai Li (Hong Qi’s Wife), Jacky Cheung (Hong Qi), Leslie Cheung (Ouyang Feng), Maggie Cheung (Brother’s Wife), Carina Lau (Peach Blossom), Tony Leung Chiu Wai (Blind Swordsman), Tony Leung Ka Fai (Huang Yaoshi), Brigitte Lin (Murong Yin / Murong Yang) and Charlie Yeung (The girl).

My Blueberry Nights (2007, Wong Kar-wai)

Wed, 23 Oct 2008 12:02:27 GMT

posted by thestopbutton

I wonder what the reaction to My Blueberry Nights would have been if it were Wong Kar-wai’s first film instead of just his first English language film. Everything I’ve seen in way of critical reaction is polite, when it really ought to be anything but. My Blueberry Nights suggests a filmmaker for sale–nothing in Wong’s other work ever even suggested he’d write such an atrocious screenplay. He usually goes a long way to cast a film well, but here… Norah Jones is utterly incapable of acting. It’s more amateurish than a carpet commercial on a UHF station. The frequent use of her music is annoying as well–it makes the whole thing seem like nothing more than an advertisement for her.

It doesn’t help the opening also relies heavily on Jude Law. Law’s better than Jones, but his abject lack of character is a significant problem. Wong seems to want to imply character depth and apparently for no reason other than style. Even David Strathairn, spitting out the awkward dialogue, does nothing but remind of the superior filmmakers he’s worked with. Comparing this film to Sayles or–and I think this comparison is more intentional–Jarmusch reveals just what’s missing in My Blueberry Nights.

Wong’s always told these wonderfully subtle stories about people–even with all the style, they’re very quiet and reserved. Here, there isn’t even a story, there’s a blurb. An easy synopsis. Some catch phrases and keywords to describe the film.

Besides the awkward transitions, Wong’s composition is excellent. His use of Panavision is nice, Darius Khondji’s colors are lush and vibrant–especially the blues–the music, always something Wong uses to good effect, is poorly chosen. It’s kind of loud, rather obnoxious and definitely obvious.

It’s pretty clear what’s going on with the film. It’s hip. It’s Wong Kar-wai making a film for, I guess, what he perceives to be his English-speaking audience–a bunch of illiterate hipsters.

What’s particularly offending about the film is how much worse it gets as it goes. There’s voiceovers from Law and Jones–and if Jones can’t act a scene, listening her trying to narrate one is even worse. There’s some dumb title cards informing the viewer how long it’s been since the first scene in the present action. But the more interesting story is left untold (Jones hops from New York to Memphis after some long period of time). Wong has no sense of his characters here and he’s trying to make a movie about America, but somehow has almost no sense of it.

What Wong’s doing isn’t pretentious, it’s just bad. The acting’s bad, the plot’s bad, the dialogue’s bad, the music’s bad. If he had good actors, it’d still be bad. The creative impulse behind My Blueberry Nights decidedly lacks any artistry.

I don’t think any other director has ever had such a plummet in quality moving from one film market to another. I used to wait for Wong to make an American film… and now I’m left wondering if he’ll ever be able to make a good film again. My Blueberry Nights is so appalling, it’s hard to believe he ever will again–and I certainly hope he never does another English language project.

CREDITS

Directed by Wong Kar-wai; written by Wong and Lawrence Block, based on a story by Wong; director of photography, Darius Khondji; edited by William Chang; music by Ry Cooder; production designer, Chang; produced by Wong, Jacky Pang Yee Wah, Wei Wang, Stéphane Kooshmanian and Jean-Louis Piel; released by Studio Canal.

Starring Norah Jones (Elizabeth), Jude Law (Jeremy), David Strathairn (Arnie), Rachel Weisz (Sue Lynne), Natalie Portman (Leslie), Cat Power (Katya) and Frankie Faison (Travis).

Wong Kar Wai in New York

Thu, 3 Oct 2008 11:53:00 GMT

posted by channelapa

New York readers Wong Kar Wai will be at the Apple Store in SoHo to talk about the music & film "Ashes of Time Redux". This weekend, while he is in town for the New York Film Festival, there will be a conversation with filmmaker Wong Kar Wai. He will discuss how music is used in his films and show scenes from "Ashes of Time Redux."

October 4th, 3:00 p.m.
Apple Store, SoHo
103 Prince Street
New York City, NY 10012

The event is free, seating is limited.
After the event head over to the New York Film festival to catch the film showing at 6:15pm and midnight.

Ashes of Time Redux Trailer

2046

Thu, 8 Aug 2008 04:16:00 GMT

posted by MovieMan0283
Writing about Wong Kar-Wai can feel like dancing about architecture, or more accurately, trying to draw a blueprint based on an inexplicably moving dance. Through slow-motion, gorgeous color, music for which the word "evocative" doesn't begin to do justice, exquisite sound design, rhythmic editing, and the sympathetic and often beautiful faces of his actors, Wong's films weave a web of seductive grace, leaving you too bedazzled to resist the narcotic bite of the director. He has us at hello, or rather, at the moment Nat King Cole beckons in his honeyed voice and Zhang Ziyi casts a fleeting, teasing glance in our direction.

Actually, 2046 (2004) is only the third Wong Kar-Wai film I've seen, but there were moments which proved more dreamily overpowering than anything else I'd witnessed in his work (or that of most other filmmakers'). Ultimately, though, I find In the Mood for Love (2000) his richest and most satisfying work overall, and at times 2046 lurks in its shadow. This is appropriate enough given that the latter film is in fact a sequel, or "sequel" as my Netflix sleeve describes it, to Mood. The quotation marks are actually appropriate, as 2046 is often entirely tangential to the earlier film, though more often it is not. Dancing through several lovers, across different genres, and over concurrent late-sixties Christmases, but sticking closely to Mood's protagonist Chiu-Wai (Tony Leung) and the hotel in which he stays, the film has its ups and downs, but oh, those ups...

For example, there's Chiu-Wai wooing an early lover, reminding her of a past encounter as velvety reds envelop the screen and perfectly muffled music wafts in from just offscreen. Or the delicate way Zhang Ziyi's character flirts and backs away from Chiu Wai's advances, her ambivalent expression betraying the vulnerability that her confident teasing attempts to conceal. Or the hotel manager's daughter, pretty in her helmet-like hairdo and futuristic garb, her android demeanor cloaking...what exactly? Love? Confusion? An absolute blank, a zero, a robotic nothing?

The last image belongs to the film's substantial sci-fi stretch, in which we are privy to the book Leung's character is writing. Semi-futuristic (though its use of the number 2046 actually refers to the hotel room the author stayed in with his Mood lover), this story incorporates numerous lovers Chiu Wai collects throughout the film, while expressing his desire to return to that brief moment of perfection, that promise of another world, that he received during the events depicted in Mood. His sci-fi stand-in falls in love with an android who resembles a former lover, questioning her to determine if she returns his affections. This portrait of women as inscrutable androids reminded me of The Virgin Suicides, another film in which characters level intense gazes at women in an effort to discern their inner consciousness. Here, it's impossible to determine the android's level of humanity just by looking; are those seeming flickers of emotion our own projection onto a terrifyingly blank entity? (The question of interhuman empathy arises in all its confusion - who are we empathizing with, the other person or aspects of ourselves? Is there a there there?) The resulting moral conundrums made me want to revisit Blade Runner, a film I haven't seen in years, to see how it deals with these questions.

Anyway, other sections of 2046 are not always so compelling. Occasionally, its lyricism slips into overly-stylized mode and one has the uncomfortable sensation of watching a visually sophisticated but vacant TV advertisement (say, one directed by Martin Scorsese or Wes Anderson -- we're talking very visually sophisticated here). Luckily those moments are few, as the lush beauty onscreen usually corresponds to the characters' emotional lives or the mood of the situation. But even when things are humming, the story starts and stops, lacking the forward momentum of In the Mood for Love. Since the film chronicles a series of love affairs, each with varying degrees of success, this uneven quality is in some ways appropriate. Actually, 2046 is unusually successful for this kind of sequel, which is not at all uncommon. The prime example that comes to mind is More American Graffiti - the justly forgotten 1977 follow-up which pursued different characters from the original on successive New Year's Eves in the late 60s. In its story structure, 2046 is remarkably similar - to the point of depicting nearly the same exact dates (Dec. 24 of '66 through '69 versus Graffiti's Dec. 31 of '65 through '68). Luckily, 2046 - unlike Graffiti - focuses its yearly adventures on one character and doesn't try to crosscut the different stories.

Besides, 2046 in its punch-drunk highs and disappointing lows serves to retroactively paint In the Mood for Love in a glowing light, actually improving the memory of its poetic romance. In this the film itself serves the same function as Chiu Wai's one-night stands, aborted affairs, and unrequited loves, which only manage to further romanticize and idealize his pure, unconsummated, never-to-be-returned-to early romance. By the end of 2046, we have enjoyed the ride but are nostalgic for the earlier film. Yet as we are told repeatedly in the narration, no one knows what the sci-fi "2046" is really like, because no one ever comes back once they have been there. Most fortunately, we as viewers do not face that particular dilemma. So I can (and will) return to Wong's audio-visual tone poems whenever I'm in the mood.