There is an unpolished, raw, kind of grimy feeling to this film, one which maybe fits the sad, lonely little lives of these characters, few of whom are likeable. A young playboy (Leslie Cheung) who "hates work" treats a couple of women like disposable objects, and yet they can't seem to stop loving him. It's a type of story I'm not all that fond of, even if we gradually understand one of the things that seriously damaged him, and maybe made him into the self-centered asshole we see before us. His mother gave him up for adoption, and his stepmother only took him so she could get a regular paycheck. It was quite hard to empathize with him though, and I disliked the misogynistic overtones of the film. Even his nerdy friend gets in on it, slapping his second girlfriend (Carina Lau) around in the rain after she's been abandoned. My favorite moment was when a kind police officer tries to talk some sense into the first girlfriend (Maggie Cheung), and after they part, he narrates:
"I never really thought she'd call. But every time I passed by the phone booth, I'd stand there for a while. Maybe she's all right and she made it back to Macao. Or maybe she just needed someone to help her through that one night. Soon after that, my mother passed away, and I became a sailor."
The film desperately needed more humanizing touches like that, or some level of self-reflection or philosophy deeper than its bird metaphor. The painting of emptiness and loneliness that Wong Kar-wai gives us is undercut without it, though I did like some of the artistry in his camera work. Oh, and if you're as puzzled as I was about the character seen at the very end, it's a somewhat random/minor character who was meant to be the main character of the second part of the story, a film which was never made. Somehow the meaninglessness of that fits, though I'm not sure it's in a good way.
"I never really thought she'd call. But every time I passed by the phone booth, I'd stand there for a while. Maybe she's all right and she made it back to Macao. Or maybe she just needed someone to help her through that one night. Soon after that, my mother passed away, and I became a sailor."
The film desperately needed more humanizing touches like that, or some level of self-reflection or philosophy deeper than its bird metaphor. The painting of emptiness and loneliness that Wong Kar-wai gives us is undercut without it, though I did like some of the artistry in his camera work. Oh, and if you're as puzzled as I was about the character seen at the very end, it's a somewhat random/minor character who was meant to be the main character of the second part of the story, a film which was never made. Somehow the meaninglessness of that fits, though I'm not sure it's in a good way.