Wong Kar-Wai's 1994 film, Chungking Express was created and distributed under interesting circumstances. Struggling to finish post-production on his lengthy genre film, Ashes of Time, Wong decided to shoot Chungking as a way too make a bit of quick cash. It worked; the film was completed start to finish in 3 months and went on to be a major hit in China, winning a plethora of awards and making a handsome amount of money. However, when it was brought over to the States by Miramax - by way of Quentin Tarantino's Rolling Thunder Pictures - it bombed horribly, opening on four screens and only initially pulling in an anemic 32, 779 dollars. But what was the disconnect? Was it simply because it was an Asian film in a variety of different languages? Or was there something else?
During one of the first screenings at UCLA before Chungking was released to the public, Tarantino introduced it by admitting that when he first saw the film he "just started crying." It wasn't because the movie is sad, he explained. (In fact, it's actually pretty funny.) No, Tarantino cried because he was "just so happy to love a movie this much." Though I didn't have such a visceral reaction to the film, after seeing Chungking Express I know exactly what Tarantino was talking about and understand why casual American audiences didn't appreciate or relate to it. Chungking Express is a film that was made for people who love film itself, rather than more explicit aspects like story and big name stars. (I really hope that doesn't come off as pretentious. There is absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying a film for those things.) It's not a movie for casual viewers. It's also not a movie that reveals all of its tricks and secrets the first time through. (I'll easily only scratch the surface in this rundown.) What it is, however, is a movie that announced the Hong Kong-based Wong Kar-Wai's emergence as the latest director in the tradition of crazily talented auteur filmmakers a la Jean-Luc Godard. (That's what 3 years of studying French paying off looks like, folks.)
Wong is less concerned with the story itself and more with all the aspects that come together to make a story. It's visible even within the film's framework - the film is composed of two stories that, other than sharing some similar themes and locations, are completely disconnected. He sets these Hong Kong tales in a world of nightclubs and shopping malls, plazas and fast food restaurants, all saturated in pop culture (the first story oozes gangster thriller complete with a femme fatale, blonde wig and all; the second's female focus is obsessed with the Mamas and the Papas' "California Dreamin'" and a Cantonese cover of the Cranberries' "Dreams"). His gorgeously shot visuals oscillate rhythmically between film, video and pixelated images. He even varies his speed, sometimes speeding the film up slightly, more often using slow motion to make it appear as if the world of the film is about to collapse back into its cinematic building blocks.
Just like what Godard's Masculin Feminin did in the mid-60s, Chungking Express is a 90s pop art masterpiece, depicting the lives of cool twentysomethings and how they negotiate their rampant desires for and confusion surrounding the opposite sex in a world leading up to Hong Kong's hand-off to China. It's about their struggle with the paradox of living in one of most densely packed cities in the world and remaining ostensibly lonely, existing primarily in their own inner worlds. But as the characters interact in this vast city, they are photographed like a music video with some Godard (a lot of the pop culture stuff) and Cassavetes (a lot of the improvisation) thrown in. And ultimately, it becomes clear that what is happening to these characters (and perhaps what is happening to the director) is what is important. It's about the journey, not about the destination.
As the film begins, we meet policeman number one, or more accurately officer no. 223, played by pop star Takeshi Kaneshiro. His name is He Qiwu and he spends most of his time brooding about his girlfriend, May, who jilted him on April Fools' Day. No. 223 has instigated an ultimatum to May, giving her until May 1st, his 25th birthday, to come back to him. He counts the days down by buying cans of pineapple ("May loves pineapple") that are to expire on May 1st. Is she doesn't call him by his birthday, the relationship will expire along with the pineapples. It's not clear if May even knows about this ultimatum, and unlikely that she'd care even if she did.
Yet, there the pineapple cans sit stacked one on top of the other, dreamlike objects with multiple meanings and associations. Like the May 1 cans, May was No. 223's number one love, but he must let her go in order to move on with his life. There's also the pineapple proper, processed and sickly sweet, mimicking the saccharine puppy love that he feels for May. When No. 223 tries to offer one of the syrupy things to his dog with only hours until May 1st, much like May herself, the dog has no interest in He Quiwu's ridiculous ritual of devotion. Finally, by transferring his heart to his stomach and gorging himself on all thirty cans of pineapple at once, when No. 223 eventually vomits it all up he has, in essence, purged himself of the hurtful past and immediately decides to fall in love with the next woman he meets.
For all the various glimpses into No. 223's psyche that the pineapple provides, however, a seemingly much darker countdown hung over Hong Kong in 1994 - in three years, it was to be handed back over to China. The comic anxiety about sex and romance felt by the twentysomethings in Chungking Express masks a much deeper fear that political freedom, really an entire way of life, had a fast approaching expiration date. But unlike Masculin Feminin in the 60s, Chungking Express is completely void of political activity or speech. Instead, like most everything else in the film, Wong Kar-Wai prefers to tell his true story in metaphors. This anxiety can be seen reflected in the scene where Brigitte Lin's blonde-wigged drug smuggler is slipped a can of sardines with the the same expiration date of May 1st. If she doesn't deliver the drugs her bumbling mules have stolen, she will swim with the fishes.
And this is where she is brought together with our forlorn No. 223 when they literally collide in the opening chase sequence. Any cop worth his or her salt could tell in a glance that Brigitte's dark glasses, wig, trench coat and general disposition are the classic signs of SOMEONE IN DISGUISE! But No. 223's vision is far too clouded by his lost love that when the two meet again in a bar after he throws up the pineapple, he fancies himself in love with her. They end up making it to a hotel room, where she immediately falls asleep and he spends the night eating four chef salads. He then removes her shoes so her feet won't swell and polishes them for her. Nothing sexual happens, but in the small acts of kindness they extend to one another, each imparts the strength necessary to move on with their life - her to finish the job, him to move on in love.
Chungking Express was not the original title of the film. The correct translation of the Hong Kong title, Chung hing sam lam, means "Chungking Jungle." However, the US title (which I prefer) suggests a weird amalgam of space, that can only occur in dreams or in film, the combination of Chungking Mansions, the setting of the first section, and Midnight Express, the small restaurant where most of the second section's action revolves. Midnight Express figured into the first section too. It's where No. 223 goes to call his answering machine to check for messages from May (password: "love is for ten-thousand years"). There, the proprietor tries to set 223 up with another May who works at the restaurant, but 223 isn't interested. When he returns after his night with the mysterious blonde, the proprietor informs him that the other May has moved on as well, but suggests asking out the new girl, Faye (Faye Wong). Hopelessly confused, however, when the proprietor tries to point her out, No. 223 accidentally sees a man washing windows and laughs the suggestion off. In doing so, he proves himself not ready for love and leaves Midnight Express, never to be seen or heard from again. As far as the film is concerned, He Qiwu's story is over.
It's an interesting and abrupt transition, and it says as such about the director's career as the film's story. Up this this point in his career, Wong Kar-Wai had made a name for himself with his debut feature, As Tears Go By. Like the first half of Chungking Express, it too was a genre action picture. So was the film, Ashes of Time, that he was working on before he shot Chungking. However, when Wong drops the first section of Chungking, with its foot chases, seedy flophouses and dark alleys, in favor of a more promising romantic situation after less than forty minutes have elapsed, it also marks a transition to the romantic yearnings that would dominate his later work including Happy Together (1997), In the Mood for Love (2000), and 2046 (2004). It's almost as if the film itself is using trial and error to look for love in the same way its characters are. And what it finds is pure screwball romance.
Stepping into No. 223's shoes is No. 663 played by C-pop singer Tony Leung who, like No. 223 before him stops routinely at Midnight Express. Except instead of dejectedly checking his answering machine, 663 buys a chef salad for his flight attendant girlfriend. As Leung enters the world of the film, we see it almost exclusively through Faye's eyes. And when he walks into closeup, sharing a magnetic charm and soulful eyes with the likes of Brando, she is not the only one who falls completely in love. Unfortunately for 663, one person who isn't falling for him is the one person he wants and he soon finds himself in the same situation as 223.
Then things get weird. Using a key to No. 663's apartment left at Midnight Express by the flight attendant, Faye lets herself into his world, cleaning his home while he walks his beat. Sweeping, straightening, getting new fish for the fish tank, Faye's housework transgression is done with amazing giddiness and energy as she bops to the beats of the Mamas and Papas' "California Dreamin'" and a cover of the Cranberries' "Dreams" done in Cantonese by, meta-ly enough, Faye Wong herself (the actress, not the character she's playing). This was Faye Wong's first acting role and she completely steals the show with her impeccable comic timing and fantastic impulsiveness.
What makes this section so great, though, what really makes the whole film so great, is the pair's chemistry. Faye is an exciting extrovert. No. 663 is completely and totally lost in his own mind, talking to inanimate objects around his home (like a large teddy bear and a bar of soap) more than he does actual humans. He's so far introverted that he doesn't notice how far Faye has fallen for him. He doesn't even notice that his apartment is being inexplicably cleaned by unseen forces. It's only when No. 663 and Faye come face-to-face at his apartment that he realizes. He's coming in, she's leaving. When she sees him she shrieks and slams HIS door in his face. And it's laugh out loud funny. Through the whole section, though, their interactions have more than simple sexual attraction. There's an innocence of spirit that permeates through the whole gamut of their relationship. It's really a feeling that permeates through the whole film. Chungking Express is not a long-term engagement. It's a fling, a fleeting moment filled with joy and a few triumphs. You're not sure how long the feeling will last, but you're glad to have had it all the same.
