“It is a restless moment. She has kept her head lowered… to give him a chance to come closer. But he could not, for lack of courage. She turns and walks away.” – In The Mood For Love (2000)

Let’s get one thing straight and quickly; I have an infinite admiration for Wong Kar-wai. The first time I had experienced his cinema was a few years ago, skimming across television one night on SBS. From there, I’d grow to love his style, with films like In The Mood For Love (2000) and Happy Together (1997) reminding me of the beauty in colour, soundtrack and of course, temporality in cinema.

What is time in the moving image? What is time within the frame? I touched briefly on this question in this post, but these ideas can be viewed and understood better through our latest screening. Immediately submerged by the environment surrounding them, characters within In The Mood For Love (2000) are constantly framed in the story world, wedged between tight corridors, arching doorways and narrow passageways. As if playing with the boundaries of cinema’s aspect ratio, Wong Kar-wai uses these shapes to often usher the characters amongst a space with repeating angles, few locations and character-themed soundtracks (like Yumeji’s Theme) creating a circular effect through time.

 

 

With time seamlessly ebbing and flowing around the two main characters, the patterns of these frames creates a feeling of isolation as both individuals drift in their own life, concurrently waiting and changing interpersonally. Taking moments to breathe and waltz with their lives, the film continues to circulate these patterns and, much like the earlier Happy Together (1997), quietly observes life go on. In terms of this week’s readings, the film is a powerful reminder of the supremacy of the frame and the quintessential role of the director.