Published
online: February 26, 2001
The
Nocturnal Magnetism of "Romantic Constraints"
By
Henry Y. Chung
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Years
ago, in a French literature course, I wrote an article
(in French) proclaiming that romantic constraints can
be the best kind of romance. Of course, that was when
I was more naive and less cynical of human nature. Years
later, I still think my belief still holds true - Even
better, those are the archetypal scenarios that we deal
with every day, often unbeknownst to us.
Wong
Kar Wai's "In The Mood For Love" (hereinafter "Mood")
is a film that brings the beauty of romantic constraints
to our attention, revitalizing the points filmmaker
Claude Sautet made throughout his cinematic tenure.
Not too many buy the concept of constrained romance,
at least not the average Generation-Y person. When I
put forth my controversial hypothesis in my French literature
course, my classmates nonchalantly dismissed it and
thought I was full of crap, while
my teacher (an intelligent, understanding French woman)
gave her fullest appreciation, if not a standing ovation.
Predictably,
"Mood" did very well in Europe as it won Best Actor
for Tony Leung in Cannes Festival and Best Foreign Film
Cesar. Wong has an expert way of pleasing European audience
with his slinky moods and stylish visuals, as demonstrated
best in "The Days of Being Wild," my favorite Wong film.
That film first caught the European eye while his later
films ("Chungking Express," "Happy Together," etc.)
established Wong's reputation as an auteur. Understandably,
Wong's success and fame are not as bold in America,
largely because American spectators expect full-blown
Hollywood-type romances with a happy ending. While the
film still fares well in artsy markets like New York
and Los Angeles, I suspect Wong's sublime gospel will
not hit home in other major U.S. cities. What some of
the Americans fail to observe is that movie screen romances
seldom occur while romantic constraints are an integral
part of our lives.
First,
we must define "romantic constraints." The concept is
seemingly abstract as a Picasso painting, but when you
carefully decipher it, it has a sense of childlike innocence.
My old definition went something like this: romantic
constraints are liaisons courageous
and profound, though fear impedes the relationships
from growing. Roger Ebert, commenting on the Sautet
film "Nelly et M. Arnaud," (hereinafter "Nelly") a classic
film of the subject matter, defines romantic constraints
as "an infinitely delicate emotional and intellectual
dance." The actress of the film Emmanuel Beart simply
states, "It's the meeting of two people in transition."
My current definition does not differ greatly, and after
watching Wong's "Mood" piece, I have realized romantic
constraints can be just as sexy and sizzling as, say,
mainstream romance, whatever that is. . . Simply speaking,
have you ever loved someone but have never told her
that you love her? That is the classic example of a
romantic constraint.
Claude
Sautet
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As
a loyal fan of Wong Kai Wai films (though not a blind
follower), I must admit I was quite bored at the initial
showing of "Mood." For one thing, the pace is quite
slow and the montages are
repetitive. My real question was: Since Claude Sautet
has already introduced the concept of romantic constraints
in "Un Coeur En Hiver" and "Nelly," what's the need
for Wong's regurgitation? Now I have thought it through,
I can come up with three plausible answers: 1) Romantic
constraints are a timeless phenomenon; Wong feels the
urge to introduce this "foreign" notion to the Asian
audience. 2) Many people missed the point of Sautet's
films or even the films themselves when they came out
in the cinema. 3) Wong is simply paying tribute to the
late French maestro for his understated works in film
industry.
Mood
and ambiance define Wong's and Sautet's films. In Sautet's
"Un Coeur En Hiver," it is the violin's strings that
bring all the lonely hearts together before they break.
In "Mood," it's the
noodle shop, Nat King Cole's "Quizas, Quizas, Quizas,"
Leung's smoking and Cheung's elegant Chinese gown. If
mood is the underlying theme for a reserved passion,
then there must be obstacles preventing the romance
from going forward. In "Hiver," it's Daniel Auteuil's
indecisive character. In "Nelly" and Krzysztof Kieslowski's
"Red," it's the gigantic age gap between the protagonists.
In "Mood," it's the unilateral unwillingness to conform
("We're not like them," as Cheung's character proclaims.)
Evidently, fear is the essential element in the formula.
Upon
second viewing of "Mood," I began to appreciate what
Wong tries to do much more. In a nutshell, he's revitalizing
Sautet's and Kieslowski's concepts (originated from
Henry James) of "romantic constraints," making
it available to a much wider and younger audience. He
reminds us of our own instances of romantic constraints,
romanticizes them, and lets us know that as missed opportunities,
they can still be erotic as hell.
When
interviewed about her role as Nelly in "Nelly et M.
Arnaud," Emmanuelle Beart states that her character
is mentally naked in the film. True
enough, if you can mentally undress your counterpart
in a relationship, you are one step closer to a meaningful
romantic constraint experience. Leung does it with his
eyes (and arguably his smoking) in "Mood."
Then,
you need to create your own mood, accompanied with style,
like putting on an album by a Buena Vista Social Club
artist, playing double bass or harmonica at unexpected
occasions, going to the movies alone, envisioning Jacky
Terrasson's rendition of Cahn's "I Should Care" playing
in the background while walking on the streets. Better
yet, get a date with someone you are afraid to kiss.
Words need not be complicated. True feelings need not
be revealed. But mutual feelings and respect must be
exchanged through exquisite body language and eye contact.
Make sure that the mood stays there (it takes time to
practice).
Life
is short, surprise yourself. The worst thing is that
nothing develops from that relationship. But there's
nothing wrong with a memorable evening when you both
know the sizzling tension is there. The ending of "Nelly"
is an optimistic one, contrary to popular belief, in
which the protagonists take different paths. Sautet
explains, "Maybe they can see each other again. But
certainly not right away. Maybe. Maybe. It's open."
That's
right folks, it's open.
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