FALLEN ANGELS: Directed by Wong Kar-wai


Travis D. Keune

“Fallen Angels” (1995)
(aka - “Duoluo tianshi”)
Directed by: Wong Kar-Wai

What is it that is so appealing about Chinese action cinema? It could possibly be the action in itself, but I think we get plenty of that here in the United States. Sure, it is a totally different kind of action and a type of fight extravaganza known as martial arts that us Americans can’t quite seem to grasp in cinema like that of the Orient filmmakers. Certain director’s of the Far East definitely do have their very own unique style, ones that are light years from what most Americans had ever seen prior to the introduction of the Hong Kong action cinema. On the other hand, what happens if we take that action away?

There have been several dramatic non-action films made in the Orient, and that have been marketed over seas. Some successfully even, but they don’t seem to get the credit they deserve. Perhaps it is the need at this point to read the subtitles to get any idea of the story. I mean, action movie is action movie, and rarely does it really require much of a story. This, of course, excludes such great masterpieces such as “The Killer” from John Woo and “heroic Trio” from Sui-Tung Ching. Although, isn’t it fair to give the other films an equal chance. The content of story and cinematography are still so rich with new and interesting ventures in the films of the Orient.

Wong Kar-Wai is my chief example. A filmmaker from Shanghai, born in 1958. At the age of five, his family moved to Hong Kong, and event that plays a small influence in his masterpiece film “Fallen Angels”, which some have critically called his quintessential work. Most definitely this film is a statement of the filmmaker’s ability, but more evidently of his mark on Orient cinema. What makes the film so damn good?

How many filmmakers can we honestly give credit for breaking all the rules and then succeeding extraordinarily? We can name a few, but when it comes down to it, most fail on some minor level at least. It is a difficult task to be different and prove different is good. Wong Kar-Wai has taken an idea that may be partially autobiographical, and has created a film so visually striking and disturbing at the same time.

Set in the modern underworld of Hong Kong, he examines the lives of two young men. Leon Lai Ming is a contract killer for a living, and lives a life that seems too laid back for a killer. His life is empty though, and his decisions soon can no longer be maid for him, as he states on occasion his preference for others to decide. He is paired with Michele Reis, a ravishing young female agent who books his “clients”. However, she is interested in more than partnership in business relations. She wants an intimate relationship with the killer, but cannot find the way to act upon it. Ming continuously avoids her throughout the story, keeping his distance, as Reis is forced to cope and find other means of satisfaction. Ming wants to find a woman to settle down with, but his perfect fit hasn’t yet revealed herself. He finds loneliness within the busy neon showered streets of Hong Kong. This is, consequently, until he encounters a troubled young woman who has died and styled her hair in a rather vulgar blonde due. At first, he avoids this one as well, but after a one-night stand he begins to slowly grow closer to her. Has he found the perfect fit, or merely an escape from his empty, meaningless life?

The film is created the style of parallel action, but the two stories never really meet. Instead, we witness two stories very much similar. Takeshi Kaneshiro is an ex-convict who lost his ability to speak at the age of five. He, much like the filmmaker, moved from his homeland to Hong Kong at the age of five. He holds a strong bond with his father and makes ends meet by opening other people’s businesses after hours for those individuals who prefer late night ventures. His eccentric and often offensive behavior demands payment from his adopted patrons and his flexibility offers an array of business opportunities, as he jumps from one store to another.

Takeshi is lonely as well. He lives with his ailing father, who lost his wife to an ice cream truck accident. He finds it impossible to get legitimate work due to his inability to speak. Thus, it is equally difficult for him to find companionship. He soon finds strange love in a half-crazy young woman named Cherry, who has just been ditched by her boyfriend. She is obsessed with retrieving him, but seems to cling to Takeshi as a crying shoulder. Takeshi soon gets attached, only leading to heartbreak. Takeshi later finds means to open his own business, but still lacks a true companion.

Images often clash and the editing style is rough and turbulent. The filmmaker made a strong effort to break every rule of filmmaking possible, but he did so with intent and with stunning accuracy. Much of the cinematography is heavily grained and washed out with the harsh saturated color of neon lights and billboards. The frequent use of mind-altering camera work and time shifting editing effects and techniques creates a constant bleed between the real and the surreal. The film’s visual style has an undertone of the character’s perception of reality, which is how life moves so quickly, but you seem to just stand in one place, never moving. As though the world revolves around the character.

In many ways, this is a story of tragedy. Neither of the main characters ever really get what they want, or deserve. Between the many losses and heartbreaks, the characters are strong. They never break down, but rather keep trucking along through life’s journey. It is clear that the destination is unreachable, but the search for it is endless. There is a subtle meeting of the two characters near the end, when Ming stops for a drink at Takeshi’s new place of business. A brief conversation ensues, but is quickly shifted away from the two characters. Much of this film is an implication that we have no control, but rather that fate does exist, and exists on a very active level in everyone’s lives.

The film offers an experience into the depressed mood of the story, the characters and the overall idea. The score for the film is breathe taking and emotional, often playing directly into the story itself. A major plot point is when Ming finally decides to relay his message to Reis through the words of a song, spoken by a diner jukebox. A brilliant soundtrack was chosen, including mostly very strong works of blues and jazz, with some semi-pop pieces, all from the culture of the location. There is so much emotional energy in this film. It is meant to be an externalization of the internal workings of the two characters. We are shown what makes these characters who they are, and then we want more. The filmmaker uses a lot of character narration, but does so from a non-intrusive point of view. Each character speaks his mind, but rarely through words. We hear their thoughts. This especially helps us relate more closely to Takeshi.

There is little action in this film, at least in the sense of most Hong Kong action films. There is some violence, directly relating to Ming’s career. This is also executed brilliantly by the filmmaker by filming the murder scenes in slow motion and with strobe-like effects to emphasize the lack of time and reality during these events. To Ming, it’s just a job. A job he grows less and less fond of. One of the best stories I’ve seen in modern film, but is not surprising from the foreign film market. Easily a modern classic and definitely worth seeing. American film, in my opinion, could truly benefit from taking a good, long look philosophically and artistically at many international films. American mainstream is seemingly blinding itself to meaning and culture, and rather prefers mindless action and tear-wrenching romance stories. I recommend this film to anyone with an open mind, sound intellect and a taste for original unique visual style. The film is available on VHS and DVD through Kino Video and Image Entertainment.

Travis D. Keune
November 20, 1999