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Affairs of the Heart

Tony Leung and Maggie Cheung reunite in Wong Kar-wai’s smart and stunning In the Mood for Love

By Robert Ito

Maggie Cheung Man-yuk as Li-Zhen and Tony Leung Chiu-wai as Mo-Wan in In the Mood for Love.

Director Wong Kar-wai describes his latest film, In the Mood for Love, as the most difficult movie he’s ever made. The production, which began in 1997, was plagued by permit problems, quarrels with censors and financial difficulties exacerbated by the Asian economic crisis. According to lead actor Tony Leung Chiu-wai, Wong had to be hospitalized several times, probably because of stress.

All the setbacks led to one of the longest film productions in Wong’s career, including a grueling on-again, off-again, 15-month shooting schedule that took the crew from Hong Kong and Bangkok to Angkor Wat. Days before its world premiere at the Cannes Film Festival last May, Wong was still in the editing room. The film screened at the festival as “Untitled,” because Wong still hadn’t thought of a name.

“We had a title for the film in Chinese: ‘The Best Time of a Woman,’ or ‘best time of something,’” says Wong. “It’s very romantic in Chinese. It’s not so great in English.”

By chance, he saw a Brian Ferry CD with the artist’s Latin-tinged cover of “I’m in the Mood for Love” and thought the name had a nice ring. “It was a pretty quick decision,” he says.

Director Wong Kar-wai, left, discusses a scene with co-cinematographer Christopher Doyle on the set of his film.

The film was a huge success at Cannes, even without a title. Leung took home the festival’s Best Actor award, while cinematographer Christopher Doyle captured its Grand Prix de la Technique. International critics praised the film’s beauty and emotional power. “We had a very good time,” says Wong.

The film reunites Leung and fellow Hong Kong film star Maggie Cheung, who have appeared together in five films. Leung plays Mr. Chow, a journalist who moves into a Hong Kong apartment next door to Mrs. Chan (Cheung), a secretary whose husband is often away on business. Their relationship is polite, yet distant — little more than small talk in the apartment hallway — until the two discover that their spouses are having an affair.

Cheung and Leung begin to spend time together, meeting in noodle shops and restaurants, rehearsing what they will say to their spouses when they must ultimately confront them. At first, the two use these rehearsals to deal with their anger and loneliness, but the dialogues inevitably become a means of speaking about their own deepening feelings for each other. When Cheung suddenly breaks down after a particularly tough session of role-playing, Leung is taken by surprise. “It’s only a rehearsal,” he tells her. Of course, by then, it has become much more.

Because Wong prefers a relatively freeform approach to film directing — he works without formal scripts, developing scenes of dialogue daily throughout the course of the shoot — Leung and Cheung were given a great deal of leeway to improvise. “I don’t want to describe it as scary, but sometimes it can be very frustrating,” says Leung, who has worked with Wong on five of the director’s seven feature films, including the 1994 indie hit Chungking Express. “At least this time I knew my occupation and my name — sometimes I don’t even get that much.”

Leung recalls a particularly difficult experience he had on the set, one he actually remembers with fondness because of the encouragement he received from his costar. The scene—later cut—involved the couple’s abortive attempts at a physical relationship. “It seemed like I was the only one who could not finish the scene, and everybody was waiting for me,” says Leung. “We were shooting for three days, and I still couldn’t get it right. And I remember, I kept on saying ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ But Maggie just looked at me and said, ‘Don’t be sorry. You’re just trying to do something good.’”

While Leung certainly deserves his Best Actor award at Cannes for this wonderfully multifaceted role, Cheung also delivers what is undoubtedly one of the finest performances of her career. Leung describes her as one of his favorite actresses to work with. “I knew she was a very good actress,” he says, “but I didn’t know how good she was before I worked with her in this movie.”

When told about Leung’s comments, Cheung reacts with surprise. “He paid me a compliment!” she says with a laugh. After five films together, surely they had spoken about these matters before? “We never talk about it,” says Cheung. “I mean, I would never ask him, ‘Do you think I’m good?’ But I’ve never heard him say anything like that.”

While Cheung agrees that working on a Wong project can be difficult, she says she has learned to trust the director’s instincts. “You have to go in like a piece of paper and let him draw on you,” she says. After appearing in 75 films, including Wong’s directorial debut, As Tears Go By, Cheung understands that not all filmmakers she’s worked with merit such trust. “Sometimes it’s best to argue, because if the director is not very good, you can at least save yourself from being bad,” she says. “But with Kar-wai, you just go with him and you know in the end he’ll make a great painting.”

Anyone who has seen a Wong Kar-wai film will understand the temptation to describe them as paintings. Wong is the master of the seductively lit, “slo-mo” shot, crafting moments when time nearly stops and the the camera drinks in the simple act of two people staring at each other across a room, or passing each other on a flight of stairs.

Longtime Wong cinematographer Christopher Doyle deserves much of the credit for the film’s gorgeous look. Rarely have stock film noir clichés — rain on streetlit pavement, shadows cast by window blinds, cigarette smoke wafting up through fluorescent light — seemed so fresh and seductive.

The film’s lush feel is heightened by Michael Galasso’s hauntingly beautiful film score. The main theme — a spare, achingly sad, solo violin melody that slowly builds to a playful, waltz-like dance — is such a delight that the listener doesn’t mind that Wong uses it over and over throughout the film, placing the music over scenes with no dialogue and little action. The Nat “King” Cole selections, sexy and restrained at the same time, are also a perfect fit. (Wong claims that he included the songs because Cole was his mother’s favorite singer, but the director might simply be paying homage to a fellow master of elegant, understated cool).

Go see this film. It’s the perfect mix of art movie and unabashed romance, a work so masterfully acted and crafted that it makes two people holding hands in the back of a cab seem like the most romantic thing one has ever seen.