In Wong Kari-wai’s In the Mood for Love, there is a soothing yet melancholy ambience throughout the film that is contrasted by the stylized and elegant cinematography of Christopher Doyle and Mark Lee Ping Bin. It is not obvious at first, but it is a subtle approach that works well with Wong’s direction. Wong has a distinctive and unique style, especially when it comes to his overall ability in conveying a vibrant yet somber story through his particular use of camera angles, camera movement, framing, editing and motifs. His ideas and themes of the exploration of love, the uncertainty of love, and perhaps also the missed opportunity of love is a testament of how I resonated with the film. Although I was not married at the time, the characters’ skepticism towards their spouses’ devotion reflected in my past life, and how secrets can be a catalyst to something hurtful, or something lovely. With help from Doyle and Ping Bin’s cinematography, Wong’s direction will reinforce those ideas and themes, which will allow the viewers to also resonate with them.
The main characters, Su Li-zhen (Maggie Cheung) and Chow Mo-wan (Tony Leung), are interwoven by the mere idea that their spouses, who are both away, either due to a business trip or overtime shifts, might be having an affair. Although Su and Chow are met with an unfortunate commonality, it is also the reason their relationship began. Because there is this distance between the main characters and their spouses, what I immediately noticed is the opposite, when it comes to Su and Chow relationship, it is juxtaposed by the narrowness and the emptiness of the rooms and spaces that they are occupying, and how Wong’s ability to capture and invoke pensiveness between the two characters is entrancing, yet ultimately sad. They are trapped, physically and emotionally. They are physically trapped between the walls of the narrow hallways, between the walls of the small rooms, and also trapped between the frames of the film, this is demonstrated by how tight and enclosed each shot is, usually putting the characters in unsettling places. In one particular scene, Su and Chow are confined in Chow’s room. I understood the tension and uncomfortableness of the scene because I have been in that situation. It’s not easy, especially if you’re waiting out the storm. They had to entertain themselves, even if they couldn’t interact, yet they still managed to survive the ordeal. Several other scenes follow this pattern of claustrophobia. When they were sitting in a cab or when they were working separately at their offices, they were trapped for a brief moment, outside from the world.
They are emotionally trapped too. Su and Chow’s spouses are almost physically absent in the entire film. We get a glimpse of what they probably do for a living, and a reason why they’re away, but we never get to see their faces. Instead we get letters and a birthday greeting on the radio. The narrowness and the emptiness of the rooms and spaces are a representation of Su and Chow being emotionally trapped, and perhaps drained, by the pressure they must face as they move forward in their relationship. The pressure is represented by the walls of the frames and literal walls in their homes, squeezing them. Can they handle the pressure of cultural and social norms? Culturally it is not acceptable, especially if your spouse is away, to interact with the opposites sex in an affectionate manner. It is forbidden. Su is reminded by her landlady about not to be too social because a woman in their culture and society might give the impression that she is being promiscuous or not faithful. Yet, Su and Chow sneak into hotel rooms, restaurants, and dark alleys, just so they can experience each other’s presence. Longing for affection and attention, they go above and beyond to not get caught, and to keep it a secret. This can be alluded by Wong’s choice of camera angles and the cinematography, and how Su and Chow’s relationship is represented in the film.
There are moments that are voyeuristic and intimate, peering from a distance, that allows the viewers to sit quietly in the scene, watching two people enchanted by their company’s existence. Wong’s camera placement is usually slightly behind the curtain, a chair, inside a home but using the window as a frame, while looking inside out, this is wonderfully demonstrated when both Su and Chow are dinning at the aforementioned restaurant. Yes, there is a dialogue in the scene, a conversation between the two characters, but there is also a conversation between the viewers and the camera. From a couple of quick panning shots back and forth, to a couple of close medium shots, the camera movement created a cadence in the scene, and the many scenes subsequently. Like a dance between two people, they developed a dance-like trance, cutting and editing into a harmonious rhythm. This comes more apparent yet subtle for both characters. And like a traditional dance, the man is usually leading. Chow is leading the scene. Su asked him to order for her, even when they are eating, he also suggests dipping the meat into the sauce. Throughout the film Chow is always suggesting, or leading, in their relationship. Where should they meet, where is the rendezvous. Although they never literally dance in the film, metaphorically the camera’s movement and edits created it.
Later in the film, we see the two characters in a dark alley, conversing about how Su wants to confront her husband about the affair. The weather is harsh; it is pouring rain. They agree to rehearse the confrontation. The camera is at a distance, the placement is behind a window with bars, at arm’s length, and like a prison cell, framed ominously, they are imprisoned by their own dilemma. She cries, like the rain, and Chow reminds her that it’s only a rehearsal, yet I believe Su is also crying about letting go of her relationship with Chow. The scene last for ten to fifteen seconds but my interpretation is she doesn’t love her husband, she is with him out of convenience, but her love belongs to Chow, and she can’t stand to lose him too. As heartbreaking as it is, I understood the decision. I too have been in this predicament. And like myself, they do not want to be like their spouses. They don’t want to be prisoners in their own relationship.
As I mentioned before, Wong’s direction can be metaphorically interpreted as a dance. From the beginning of the film, there are several elegant and exceptional camera pans and camera angles that can be interpreted as dance moves, each scene follows a rhythm and beat. Wong’s unconventional filmmaking can be credited for this. He doesn’t rely on mundane direction, instead he challenges the viewers. There are scenes where we don’t get the full scope but just a glimpse, using the frames of the doors and windows. With the gorgeous set design, Su’s bountiful dresses, and the brilliant cinematography, the film is nothing short to being beautiful. But behind the beauty is the desolation of two human beings. Yearning for love, or at least, the presence of love. Usually a dance is accompanied by a song, and in In the Mood for Love this is complimented by a motif of a song composed by Shigeru Umebayashi. One of his pieces from the enthralling score is “Yumeji’s Theme”, which is a haunting and alluring waltz that echoes throughout the film. It is introduced when both of their spouses, including Su and Chow, are playing mahjong. We don’t see their faces but we do get the sense of constriction. Perhaps because of the enclosed framing and the narrow spaces of the hallway and rooms. There is tension building. The tension last throughout the film. The last time we listen to “Yumeji’s Theme” is when we see Chow in Angkor Wat, where he is visiting the ruined monastery. This time the melody is reworked, the original tune is there, but slightly intact. This is juxtaposed from the first time we listened to the theme because Chow is no longer in a busy and enclosed space, he is in a spacious area. There aren’t many walls, and he can maneuver anywhere, without secrets. The camera pans to the ruins, Chow is imposed by the monuments, he is merely a tiny human being. We only get a glimpse of him in the scene. He is no longer trapped physically and emotionally. This allows him to move forward in life freely, with some closure, without hesitation. The viewer might resonate with this idea. The idea that we can be free from worries, from struggles, and live a life that is meaningful.
Leave a Reply