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Film Description
Wong Kar-Wai's celebrated portrait of neon-lit city populated by love-lorn cops, dangerous drug smugglers and California dreamers. The film comprises two separate stories, the first of which features a cop who falls for a mysterious woman in a late night bar, little knowing that she is a big-time heroin smuggler. The second story features another cop who regularly visits a late night diner where he is served by a girl who has a huge crush on him; the girl then begins breaking into the cop's apartment, cleaning it for him, and adding little touches to help him get over the departure of his air-stewardess girlfriend.
“We may not know each other, but we could be friends some day.” Such thoughts encapsulate the bittersweet, time-shifted melancholy that Wong Kar Wai brings to his coll... more >
“We may not know each other, but we could be friends some day.” Such thoughts encapsulate the bittersweet, time-shifted melancholy that Wong Kar Wai brings to his collage of pre-handover Hong Kong – two almost overlapping stories illuminated and made romantic by a cathode-blue fluorescence and more than enough X-factors to fill an entire career.
The first, with its allusive frames of neon-lit stop-motion, is crammed with times and dates; food markets; bank notes; late-nite convenience stores and the disposable iconography of consumerism as plain-clothes cop 223 pursues ‘romance’ and triads within the maze-like Chungking Mansions – the migrant chatter and tide of leather and electronic goods epitomizing Hong Kong’s tiger economy as well as its cramped, boxed spaces… But look beyond the flashing immediacy of the genre motifs Tarantino so admired (an almost identical airport lounge sequence resurfaces in Jackie Brown) and there seems a real anxiety concerning the imminent date of handover to Communist China: “…even cling film expires” admits 223 and he must console himself with a connection all too fragile and consigned to personal history: “If memory can be tinned, I hope it never has a sell-by date.”
A myriad of themes then gracefully converge in the flights and dreams and changing perceptions of the second story – and uniformed policeman 663’s nightly visits to the Midnight Express takeaway. Here he is slightly bemused by new waitress Faye Wong listening repeatedly to the Mamas & Papas’ California Dreaming or peering coquettishly over dark glasses. She provides him with secretly adoring glances and the tone becomes sweeter, the camerawork more langorous: a model aeroplane submerged in a fish tank; soft electric light and faded sunshine; a ceiling fan; a paper plane; the roar of a commercial airliner… And 663 dreamily recalling the stewardess who has recently left him: a beautiful runway at night and romantic music playing over an in-flight safety recording spoken in English.
Chungking Express shows Wong Kar Wai as an exceptional and lyrical film artist. While the nuances are delicate – and incorporate an almost Japanese ‘I-novel’ sensibility alongside the irresistible pop video veneer – his characters remain wonderfully appealing. 663 is “clearing the runway for the next flight…” and we leave him and Faye with a warm-hearted feeling that things will probably work out.
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“We may not know each other, but we could be friends some day.” Such thoughts encapsulate the bittersweet, time-shifted melancholy that Wong Kar Wai brings to his coll... more >
“We may not know each other, but we could be friends some day.” Such thoughts encapsulate the bittersweet, time-shifted melancholy that Wong Kar Wai brings to his collage of pre-handover Hong Kong – two almost overlapping stories illuminated and made romantic by a cathode-blue fluorescence and more than enough X-factors to fill an entire career.
The first, with its allusive frames of neon-lit stop-motion, is crammed with times and dates; food markets; bank notes; late-nite convenience stores and the disposable iconography of consumerism as plain-clothes cop 223 pursues ‘romance’ and triads within the maze-like Chungking Mansions – the migrant chatter and tide of leather and electronic goods epitomizing Hong Kong’s tiger economy as well as its cramped, boxed spaces… But look beyond the flashing immediacy of the genre motifs Tarantino so admired (an almost identical airport lounge sequence resurfaces in Jackie Brown) and there seems a real anxiety concerning the imminent date of handover to Communist China: “…even cling film expires” admits 223 and he must console himself with a connection all too fragile and consigned to personal history: “If memory can be tinned, I hope it never has a sell-by date.”
A myriad of themes then gracefully converge in the flights and dreams and changing perceptions of the second story – and uniformed policeman 663’s nightly visits to the Midnight Express takeaway. Here he is slightly bemused by new waitress Faye Wong listening repeatedly to the Mamas & Papas’ California Dreaming or peering coquettishly over dark glasses. She provides him with secretly adoring glances and the tone becomes sweeter, the camerawork more langorous: a model aeroplane submerged in a fish tank; soft electric light and faded sunshine; a ceiling fan; a paper plane; the roar of a commercial airliner… And 663 dreamily recalling the stewardess who has recently left him: a beautiful runway at night and romantic music playing over an in-flight safety recording spoken in English.
Chungking Express shows Wong Kar Wai as an exceptional and lyrical film artist. While the nuances are delicate – and incorporate an almost Japanese ‘I-novel’ sensibility alongside the irresistible pop video veneer – his characters remain wonderfully appealing. 663 is “clearing the runway for the next flight…” and we leave him and Faye with a warm-hearted feeling that things will probably work out.
< less
“We may not know each other, but we could be friends some day.” Such thoughts encapsulate the bittersweet, time-shifted melancholy that Wong Kar Wai brings to his coll... more >
“We may not know each other, but we could be friends some day.” Such thoughts encapsulate the bittersweet, time-shifted melancholy that Wong Kar Wai brings to his collage of pre-handover Hong Kong – two almost overlapping stories illuminated and made romantic by a cathode-blue fluorescence and more than enough X-factors to fill an entire career.
The first, with its allusive frames of neon-lit stop-motion, is crammed with times and dates; food markets; bank notes; late-nite convenience stores and the disposable iconography of consumerism as plain-clothes cop 223 pursues ‘romance’ and triads within the maze-like Chungking Mansions – the migrant chatter and tide of leather and electronic goods epitomizing Hong Kong’s tiger economy as well as its cramped, boxed spaces… But look beyond the flashing immediacy of the genre motifs Tarantino so admired (an almost identical airport lounge sequence resurfaces in Jackie Brown) and there seems a real anxiety concerning the imminent date of handover to Communist China: “…even cling film expires” admits 223 and he must console himself with a connection all too fragile and consigned to personal history: “If memory can be tinned, I hope it never has a sell-by date.”
A myriad of themes then gracefully converge in the flights and dreams and changing perceptions of the second story – and uniformed policeman 663’s nightly visits to the Midnight Express takeaway. Here he is slightly bemused by new waitress Faye Wong listening repeatedly to the Mamas & Papas’ California Dreaming or peering coquettishly over dark glasses. She provides him with secretly adoring glances and the tone becomes sweeter, the camerawork more langorous: a model aeroplane submerged in a fish tank; soft electric light and faded sunshine; a ceiling fan; a paper plane; the roar of a commercial airliner… And 663 dreamily recalling the stewardess who has recently left him: a beautiful runway at night and romantic music playing over an in-flight safety recording spoken in English.
Chungking Express shows Wong Kar Wai as an exceptional and lyrical film artist. While the nuances are delicate – and incorporate an almost Japanese ‘I-novel’ sensibility alongside the irresistible pop video veneer – his characters remain wonderfully appealing. 663 is “clearing the runway for the next flight…” and we leave him and Faye with a warm-hearted feeling that things will probably work out.
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