In The Mood For Love
Think of the last time you were so irretrievably in love, that you would do anything to see and be with the other person. Then this person simply gets up and leaves, leaving you standing idly there with salt brimming your cheeks. So many possibilities and so much potential, but you are forced to ground yourself. This is a film about temptation, testing the boundaries of chemistry and obligation. Has any film seduced me more infinitely than Wong Kar-Wai’s 2000's-hit In The Mood For Love with the promise of sex? I highly doubt so. We’ve heard of the line, “rules are meant to be broken”, yet how often do we actually follow our heart, rather than our logic. This is a common theme in romance films, and In The Mood For Love is no exception either.
Their names are Chow and Su. The only association they have with each other is the fact that they are neighbours, who moved in next to each other on the same day. How close are you with your neighbours? These two neighbours are in love. You can tell that they are thinking, be it in that grotty staircase, or in the hallway. Maybe it is some form of CGI, but I swear their eyes light up whenever they see each other, aching for an embrace. However, every night, they go to sleep alone, without making an actual move for one another. It is frustrating, but they are both married to other people, so that counts as adultery, right? The same sin contaminates their marriage. Chow’s wife is having an affair with Su’s husband. This act tarnishes the marriage vows they had taken respectively, and yet the cheating couple is never shown. Unknowingly, as the audience, we can tell who the main characters are in a film or TV series, whilst the narrative of Chow and Su is the important part of In The Mood For Love.
Chow
He is a newspaper editor whereas we only that his wife works late night shifts. She does not want to go for late night suppers (common thing to do in Hong Kong), nor does she want to continue staying with her husband.
Another character associated with Chow is Koo, a colleague with whom he works with. In simple terms, Koo is the opposite of what Chow is. Unlike Chow, Koo is a pervert who frequents to whore houses, perhaps because he himself is not married. The introduction of Koo into the story helps showcase that Chow is loyal to his wife, until he finds out about her deceit. I’d go to say that he is a good husband, constantly checking up on his wife, and wanting the materialistic best for her. Out of the blue, she goes to Japan on a supposed work trip, which means that Chow gets to see even less of her.
Su
She is a secretary, who is equally, if not more even more devoted to her husband than Chow is to his wife. She schedules movie dates with her husband later in the evening because that is the only time he is available, similar to Chow’s wife. The cheongsam she wears signifies that they are financially stable, stable enough that her husband is capable of buying posh handbags for her from Japan.
Her husband is often sent to Japan on business errands, and it does not take a genius to figure out that Japan is an international booty call station for the adulterous couple. When those occasional starcase encounters with a lonely Chow ultimately turn into a hangout at a cafe, she and Chow find out about the massive lie being fed by their spouses. The scene of her crying in the shower upon discovery, reveals that like Chow, she is committed to her spouse too. By the end of the film, it is her, who has to make the hardest decision, which we’ll get to later.
Coming Together
Two lonely people with a shared theme of betrayal, loneliness and loyalty. If you have not watched the film, allow me to spoil this for you. There is no happy ending. As far as I am concerned, that is what makes a romance film, romance. Think Titanic, Me Before You and La La Land. You desperately ship the pair, wildly fantasizing the beautiful moments they share and could potentially share, only to have a disaster or reality set in. In The Mood For Love has no happy ending, which demands that the audience empathize the situation that the characters are in. Despite that, understanding what makes this film tragic, reaps a bigger reward in terms of fixation.
Chemistry and empathy, coupled by some shared passions, drive the characters closer and closer to each other, then split and restart the next day. As I said earlier, this film is a seduction plot, meant to tease people. Love is the goal, and some people jump through hoop after hoop in search of the One.
From a physical standpoint, this film uses the traditional colours as its backgrounds. It is neither colourful, nor bright, setting the tone of a 1960’s Hong Kong. Two constants in this film. First, the fabrics of frame around both characters. Second, the goddamn soundtrack that replays itself over and over again.
Frames
Internal shapes litter the camerawork. Realistically, the film only features and repeats a few locations. Attentive audiences will notice this. Because Chow and Su are individually married, gossip and rumour about their suspicious closeness loom over their heads constantly. Wong Kar-Wai reverberates the limitations of contact and speech, using the neighbours’ mahjong blathers, to force Chow and Su only to steal glances at each other and the slightest of touches. The first frame that we see, is the perimeter of our screen (TV, projector, monitor). The second, which is the first and only frame of the neighbours, keeps the two under check. They are always being observed, by us, and the neighbours.
I’m not sure I should tell you this…
What?
I saw your wife on the street yesterday.
So what?
She was with some guy.
Probably a friend.
Just thought you should know.
The conversation between Koo and Chow about his own wife’s extra-curricular activities, show just how merciless and eagle-eyed the community is.
In order to understand how the infidelities occurred, Chow and Su tried their best to play the scenarios out. It’s comical, though glaringly obvious that they were not doing it to re-enact anything. They do it because their attraction drives them to flirt and interchange as minutely as acceptable. They try to seduce each other, and in the meanwhile, seduce the audience into rooting for their romance. It works. So long as they do not consummate their potential, they are not as malevolent as their cheating spouses. The fantasy of flirting and unplanned “coincidences” reach their inevitable end when Chow buckles under the pressure, finally confessing that his love for Su was genuine. Su is not perfect in her acting either, breaking character during one of their play-act imaginary scenes confronting their cheating spouses. Chow (pretending to be Su’s husband) confesses that he has indeed been seeing another woman behind her back. Slap. This drama exercise they engage in, winds up their affections for each other, to the point where the mere thought of Chow cheating on Su actually stings.
I didn’t expect it to hurt so much.
I can tell you right now that we are victims of frames as well. These frames are lies that we construct to hide what we truly want from the world. Whatever the case, there is no way out of the frame, no matter how truthful you attempt to be. A relationship built on a lie does not last. A fantasy built upon reality does not either. When their fantasy comes to an end, they back away from the new challenges that surface. In The Mood For Love examines the outbreak of an expensive fantasy, which only serves to keep you from the heartache that it was meant to solve.
Soundtrack
Two songs that really struck me. “Yumeji’s theme”, is the most overplayed song in a film, period. I swear I heard it like eight times throughout the film. The sad waltz is a simple, bewitching string arrangement that is oxymoronically beautiful and ugly. From a technical point, the hollowed violin melody breathes life into the cello background. It is synonymous with Chow and Su’s predicament, highlighting the haunting aura of infidelity, but more prominently, the chronic path they set themselves on.
“Magic Is The Moonlight” is sang in Spanish and from my Spanish professors, the word quizas, translates to “maybe” in English. It begs the question, if only they were not married to other people. If only they could freely pursue each other without fear of the repercussions. Where would that lead them then?
I realized that there aren’t that many lines that the actors are given to say. What I’m getting at, is that the actors use their slight interactions to convey the message in each scene. Dilated pupils. Somber expressions. And that damn “Yumeji theme”. It acts like a checkpoint for significant advances in their relationship from neighbours, to friends, to lovers. It encourages the audience to recall everything from the film, each time that song is played. This puts the audience in the same boat as the characters; haunted by the memory of failure and what could have been instead.
Epilogue
An erotica without any actual raunchiness. The film hypnotically allures us by employing the most basic detail enhancements (or should I say eroticisms). The swish of silk. The click-clack of high heels. The tippity taps of raindrops. The furtive glances of lovers. In the eyes of Chow and Su, consummating their love would only make the same bad guys.
For us to do the same thing, would mean we are no better than they are.
Their lust is clear as day (not for the neighbours, but for us the audience), and no matter how much they desire, they are both bound by the moral stands and societal norms.
The film does a time-skip a few years down the road. Chow reluctantly moves on to work in Singapore, whereas Su raises her son. Out of nowhere, Su calls Chow from Hong Kong, but does not say anything on the line. I think it is a testament to a previous line in the film, when Chow was pretending to flirt with Su.
Nothing, I just wanted to hear your voice.
Now, Su returns the favour. I guess she really wants to hear his voice after six years of separation. She still loves him.
