Days of Being Wild (1990)

Wong Kar Wai

Hong Kong

94 min, color, Cantonese (English subtitles)

"Tonight you will see me in your dreams" Wong Kar Wai has never been known as purveyor of anything more earthly than incomprehensible art-house fare, but Days of Being Wild has got to be one of the least accessible of his films. Beautifully and meticulously shot by Christopher Doyle, the film's elegiac mood and languorous pace can severely test one's sanity or patience, depending on how closely one is trying to follow the script.

York (Leslie Cheung) is a handsome playboy who hates his adopted mother ever since he's found out that his real mom has given him up as a baby. He also hates the world and he also hates himself, or at least does not seem to care much about himself or his friend (Jackie Cheung). This is, of course, not earth-shattering stuff, even for the sweltering 1960s Hong Kong. In his quest to find his birth mother, he does not seem to mind hurting everyone in sight, even as he protects his hateful stepmother so that she does not die without telling him the identity of his real mom. Eventually, she divulges one small piece of information that sends York to the Philippines, where he meets a person whose path fate has crossed his once with, and this turns out to be his last company on his last trip to nowhere.

As far as the main story goes, there's nothing much to recommend it. Wong Kar Wai ever shies away from explicit characterization, and most of the time this is endearing and attractive. This time around, however, it is simply quite annoying for not one personage seems to have any motivation whatsoever for any of the things he or she does. Oh well, maybe there's some when the women are concerned, but even this is suspect.

The "love" story between York and the beautiful Maggie Cheung who works has a bar hostess at a stadium is in the grand tradition of one-sided unrequited love that burns the bearer and scars the receiver even if the scars take years to show. This story has all the trappings of a Wong Kar Wai tragedy: It is simple, utterly implausible, yet strangely fascinating. Maggie suffers in quiet desperation, repulsed by York's callow selfishness, hating her own inability to break away, and waiting forlornly at his doorstep in the rain at the very moment that he is carousing with a dancer (Carina Lau) inside. As she tries to find solace in her sleepless nights, Maggie encounters a police officer (Andy Lau) who dreams of being a sailor. Several times they help each other pass the darkness, yet in the end they part without even realizing that it is forever. There is no hope and no regret in this separation except perhaps the faint pity of something never actualized.

The tumultuous "love" story with the demanding Carina is less forgiving. She is seemingly domineering, and yet for all her bravado, she is utterly helpless in her obsession with York. She reaches for the door but never manages to leave. It is a strange love that only holds together out of fear. Never does York seem to realize or care about the suffering he is causing, even as he has Carina on her knees scrubbing his dirty floor in full official night dress. Yet she never once thinks seriously that she could leave him. Even after being obviously abandoned when he goes to the Philippines, Carina resolves to follow him there, at the expense of York's best friend, who has been hopelessly in love with her. It is as if hurt inevitably produces more hurt, resulting in an endless cycle of pain. She cannot even consider accepting the love that is being offered her, and although she weeps when Jackie sacrifices his only hope to help her track down York, these are the tears of helplessness. She may want to accept this gift, but she simply cannot bring herself to doing it. With no hope in sight, she punishes herself and punishes Jackie.

The extent to which these two women are ready to undergo humiliation makes York's behavior even more repugnant. It is as if he punishes them for the pain the other two women have inflicted on him: the first by abandoning him as a baby, and the second by refusing to tell him the truth even after crushing him by divulging the fact of his adoption. One is tempted to see parallels here, although I would not go as far as identify Maggie and Carina with his two mothers. One thing that the film makes certain is that cycle of pain that people cause to each other is not an accident and is not even that purposeful. It is all the more tragic because it is so wanton and because it is caused by helplessness.

Having rejected the saving grace of the two women's love, York perishes, ignominiously and meaninglessly, as a lone outcast; just as he lived despite his popularity and despite his attractiveness.

The Mega Star DVD is unremarkable. It is presented in anamorphic widescreen, with a single Cantonese soundtrack. The film is dirty and scratched, and the English translation, though not horrifying, leaves much to be desired. Still, it is not likely that we shall soon see another version of this film, so for fans of the director, this is the only way to own it on DVD. I don't regret buying the ridiculously overpriced copy (as all Mega Star releases), but I'd hunt for a bargain if I had to do it again. The film is nowhere near Wong Kar Wai's other superb outings, like In the Mood for Love, for example.

If anyone can explain the significance of the last two minutes where Tony Leung makes an appearance, I will be eternally grateful.

December 15, 2002