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Rating: And that motorcycle ride at the end of the film, with the wind slashing your face and cleansing the remnants of deceit, the happiness of throwing yourself into a fetal embrace with the prospect of salvation from getting involved in somewhat complicated situations, like being a killer by chance or clashing your eclecticism with the flesh, hoping to achieve evanescence.
Everything starts from boredom, to pass the time, to forget the "what the hell am I doing here," stalling the game's purpose. Depersonalization is tackled instinctively, you cross paths, you recognize each other, deferring the soul connection, still enslaved by alienation.
Curiosity is unawareness that causes its material damages, inevitable in growth, waiting for transcendental "breaks" to consciously transform the invisible thirst.
Marvelous is the camera movement that dreamily moves through metropolitan nightmares and captures eternal moments of solitude. The intimate, telegraphed dialogues contrast with the violent street misadventures. The chases in the manhunt align with the ruthlessness of an intimate probe into a "silent" understanding of oneself: "Yesterday, dad died..."
Who are we? What are we doing? Where are we going?
Bitter almond neighborhood... But it doesn't matter, at this moment "we are happy..."
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By fuggitivo
Recurrent in Wong Kar-wai’s cinema is the impossibility of living one’s emotions, a laziness that leads to drift and ultimately to solitude.
For me, it is the director’s masterpiece (even superior to In the Mood for Love), but most likely I belong to the niche.
