Review: My Blueberry Nights
There's plenty of Wong Kar-Wai's signature visual style on display in My Blueberry Nights, the Hong Kong auteur's first American film. The film stock is grainy, the colors are saturated, the slo-mo is abundant and jerky. Even working with cinematographer Darius Khondji for the first time, instead of with classic partner Christopher Doyle, Wong brings us to a familiar and wonderful place.
This highly abstract look fit hand in glove with Wong's classic films. It lends itself to contemplation, whether of the impenetrable details of Ashes of Time or the subtle emotional resonances of what previously was his most conventional film, In the Mood for Love. The problem is that, in Blueberry, there's not that much to contemplate. The story is quite linear, the conflicts relatively simple, the emotions understandable. And the occasional explanatory voiceovers would have been superfluous even if the story were just half as clear as it is.
So the washes of candy-colored grit that pass by our eyes quickly become little more than visual entertainment. Even with that, one wishes for more of Wong's mysterious arrangement of shots. A surprising amount of the film is taken up with conventional shot/reverse shot dialog scenes.
In Blueberry, co-written with author Lawrence Block, Wong is back to telling stories about lost love and the difficulties of hanging on or letting go. There are several such tales in this movie, and clear echoes of one of his classic pining-and-searching films, Chungking Express. There's a late-night restaurant, a relationship blooming across the counter, and even a lovelorn cop. But none of this feels as fresh as in the earlier film, despite the new setting and mostly excellent performances.
About the latter, it should be enough to say that in her first acting role, singer Norah Jones looks the part of a young New Yorker getting over what is probably her first love affair. She brings a fresh face and a certain innocence to the film, as Faye Wong did in Chungking Express, but her acting is out of step. She can't match the great work of Jude Law, David Strathairn, and especially Natalie Portman, and this becomes a distraction.
But clearly, Blueberry is required viewing for Wong fans. It's his first vision of America, which he seems to have approached hesitantly: He can render New York much like his beloved Hong Kong, but overall he relies a lot on indoor and night scenes. In a scene that's gorgeous and smart but also telling, a classic Pontiac and an old block of Memphis appear softly through window blinds. But there's a hint at openness and light as Jones's character works her way into the West.
Maybe Wong will return to the U.S., and maybe not. But if he does, note that John Woo (admittedly a very different kind of artist) arrived from Hong Kong in 1993 and didn't make a significant film until four years and four projects later, with Face/Off. So if there are more American Wong movies, someday we may have trouble letting go of him.
This highly abstract look fit hand in glove with Wong's classic films. It lends itself to contemplation, whether of the impenetrable details of Ashes of Time or the subtle emotional resonances of what previously was his most conventional film, In the Mood for Love. The problem is that, in Blueberry, there's not that much to contemplate. The story is quite linear, the conflicts relatively simple, the emotions understandable. And the occasional explanatory voiceovers would have been superfluous even if the story were just half as clear as it is.
So the washes of candy-colored grit that pass by our eyes quickly become little more than visual entertainment. Even with that, one wishes for more of Wong's mysterious arrangement of shots. A surprising amount of the film is taken up with conventional shot/reverse shot dialog scenes.
In Blueberry, co-written with author Lawrence Block, Wong is back to telling stories about lost love and the difficulties of hanging on or letting go. There are several such tales in this movie, and clear echoes of one of his classic pining-and-searching films, Chungking Express. There's a late-night restaurant, a relationship blooming across the counter, and even a lovelorn cop. But none of this feels as fresh as in the earlier film, despite the new setting and mostly excellent performances.
About the latter, it should be enough to say that in her first acting role, singer Norah Jones looks the part of a young New Yorker getting over what is probably her first love affair. She brings a fresh face and a certain innocence to the film, as Faye Wong did in Chungking Express, but her acting is out of step. She can't match the great work of Jude Law, David Strathairn, and especially Natalie Portman, and this becomes a distraction.
But clearly, Blueberry is required viewing for Wong fans. It's his first vision of America, which he seems to have approached hesitantly: He can render New York much like his beloved Hong Kong, but overall he relies a lot on indoor and night scenes. In a scene that's gorgeous and smart but also telling, a classic Pontiac and an old block of Memphis appear softly through window blinds. But there's a hint at openness and light as Jones's character works her way into the West.
Maybe Wong will return to the U.S., and maybe not. But if he does, note that John Woo (admittedly a very different kind of artist) arrived from Hong Kong in 1993 and didn't make a significant film until four years and four projects later, with Face/Off. So if there are more American Wong movies, someday we may have trouble letting go of him.
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