Life Stories
花樣年華
In The Mood For Love
Unfamiliar with the title? Well, it’s a reference to the beautifully majestic, and mesmeric masterpiece, In The Mood For Love by Wong Kar Wai. Set in 1960’s Hong Kong, the film is a profoundly moving depiction of love but also betrayal, loss, missed opportunities, memory, the brutality of time’s passage, and ultimately, loneliness. Life’s fundamentals are set to a glorious color palette, quite unlike anything put to screen before, or since.
When the film was released in 2000, I couldn’t help but be completely enamoured by actress Maggie Cheung’s stunning, yet haunting portrayal of Mrs Chan (Su Li-Zhen). Similarly, I was struck by Tony Leung’s dapper, almost absurdly handsome portrayal of journalist Chow Mo-wan. As a fellow journalist, I can relate…to the long working hours depicted on-screen, but that’s where my resemblance to his character ends.
Throughout my own trials and tribulations in love, this adorable film with its unworldly, dream-like beauty, has carried me through, in the vain hope that I would experience a tiny fraction of the powerful, yet melancholic intimacy that is shared between the two protagonists. The true beauty of the film doesn’t lie in what’s depicted on screen, rather in what isn’t. The protagonists’ spouses are never shown, and whilst physical intimacy is suggested, it’s never fully depicted. The touch of a hand, the feint brush of a cheek, the languid simplicity of it all, strikes a deeply sensual and lascivious chord, which plays on the viewers mind; if they did get together would it be as compelling and compulsive as is hinted at?
On reflection, I discovered that I actually had met someone who I’d found spellbinding and captivating, yet at times so irascibly infuriating. She made my heart melt, and left me (of all people!) lost for words. When an individual can make your eyes glisten and dance with joy, by way of a simple expression, you know in your heart, that the individual is extraordinarily special.
In accordance with the film, we met as neighbors. Sadly, unlike Tony Leung’s character however, I was not married to someone else, but neither was I polite or charming. Instead I was playful, unscrupulous, and quite frankly annoying. Quite how she found me attractive is anyone’s guess, but in truth, persistence can be attractive, if the face fits. Thankfully in my case it did, but only for so long. I was far too self-absorbed to realise that she was slowly, but surely, warding herself from the inevitable. When the moment — and question — arose, I — brimming with confidence — arrogantly and nonchalantly said “No”. I was in control, and if I was happy, that’s all that mattered.
I had always prided myself on being an exemplary gentleman, charming and gracious beyond compare. Pride however, comes before a fall, and fall I did. With her, I found myself giving in to my selfish, Eros/Ludus orientated self, which I had no hope of containing or controlling. In doing so, she literally, and metaphorically, shut the door to the intimacy we once had, which in truth, was very one-sided. I absorbed it all in selfish abandon, and never gave anything back. Not once did I make her feel special, and rather uncharacteristically, I did not take her on a date. I guess in many ways, we sought solace from each other — much like the lead couple — amid the paradoxical loneliness of London.
There was a lesson to be learnt, through the metaphorical slamming of the door. Rather unsurprisingly, it was that you only know a good thing when it’s gone. When I had the chance to love, and to be loved, I let it slip through my fingers, and in agony, watched all the intimacy disappear. So what became of this, and why have I linked Wong Kar Wai’s extraordinary movie to my experiences? It’s because the film traces the notion of love, but also those moments which we choose to shy away from: missed opportunities, loss and the passing of time.
Time has not only made me rediscover my true nature, but it has also helped me appreciate the wonderful gifts of this special individual. Humble, kind, caring, and honest in nature, she has a rare, ethereal beauty, combined with a powerful magnetism drawn from the femme fatales of film noir, to the point where it can become a distraction. Over time, we’ve come to appreciate one another, and in truth, the connection which we now share is far more meaningful and impassioned, than when we first met. The words expressed and the unspoken intimacy, is quite unlike anything we’ve ever experienced.
Her feelings however have changed. For her, there is someone new, who now captures her body, and possibly her mind and soul. I, on the other hand, am left with an unrequited love that has only grown, and become far more intricate to the point where I’m contemplating, what if? Would our friendship thrive outside the counterpoint of my unscrupulous behavior? My chemistry with her, is breathtaking to behold, and to the observing eye would appear to be far more intense, than a simple friendship. She has been, and always will be, a fulfilling treat for the eyes. To simply dissuade the notion that romance between the two of us would crush our beautiful friendship, is a fallacy. However, like the lead couple depicted on screen, there is a melancholic magic to our relationship, for the period of time that we’ve actually known each other is surprisingly short, yet it has been punctuated and saturated with sharp moments of bitter-sweetness along the way. If we were to rekindle the chemistry we once had, and take the relationship further, would it bring to an end our wonderfully ambiguous friendship, and result in an abrasive, coarse heartbreak? To quote the mellifluous, yet mournful Nat King Cole, whose melodies accompany the film, Quizas, quizas, quizas…(perhaps, perhaps, perhaps).
*致力于隔壁的女孩*
