‘Chungking Express’ at 21

“ …in the end there is no desire so deep as the simple desire for companionship.”

– Graham Greene,
May We Borrow Your Husband? (1967)

A woman in sunglasses and a blonde wig strides with mysterious purpose to the driving sounds of a string quartet; a lonely plainclothes detective tries to summon his lost love by collecting tins of expiring pineapple; a beautiful counter girl and handsome beat cop circle about one another in a mutual attraction.

These are the players of Wong Kar-Wai’s 1994 classic Chungking Express, a film of boundless energy and constructed so beautifully, that it feels like no effort was put into it at all– that somehow, this film was simply willed into existence.

The film’s actual origin story is not quite so prosaic: Wong, a notorious perfectionist, was having extreme difficulty with the editing process on his surreal wuxia epic Ashes of Time. Ashes endured nigh-apocalyptic overruns and a complete reshuffling of the cast during its multi-year on and off shooting phase.

Suffering from burnout, Wong went to his producers and requested the money for a contemporary film shot in Hong Kong.

He would complete production in under a month working with the same cast and much of the same crew as Ashes of Time. Chungking Express was the result of this unique indulgence: if Ashes of Time was a labor of love deferred, then Chungking Express was a one-night stand that would stick with you for the rest of your life. It was high cuisine made with the efficiency of a fast food chicken sandwich.

Chungking Express is a diptych of stories set around the Chungking Mansions building in Kowloon, and connected thematically. In the first story, a mysterious woman in a blonde wig (Brigitte Lin) is running a drug smuggling operation using Indian migrants as mules around the Chungking Mansions. The ring’s operations are blown by a local Brit gangster working out of a cantina whose connection to the woman is left a bit mysterious, but he’s definitely captured or bribed the mules she employed.

Meanwhile, Hong Kong police officer He Zhi Wu (Takeshi Kaneshiro) is in the throes of depression as his longtime girlfriend May broke up with him the month before. As the month progresses, he buys tins of pineapples due to expire at the beginning of the next month, which is also his birthday, as he tells himself that if May has not reconciled by that point their love too, will have expired.

The desperate criminal and the lonely police detective meet in a surreal bar near the Mansions, and two people who could never coexist in any other context have a moment. The Woman in the Blonde Wig can feel Wu’s palpable loneliness, and Wu can sense her need for safety. They retreat to a hotel room near the airport, where the Woman crashes out for the night and Wu simply orders room service and watches over her for the night, lamenting his lonely birthday. As he leaves he removes her shoes and cleans them, a simple act of kindness, and doesn’t notice that she’s actually been awake for some time. After Wu leaves the Woman in the Wig gets revenge on the Brit gangster, but before she disappears she gets a simple message to Wu’s answering service: “Happy birthday.”

The second story centers around Faye (Faye Wong), the counter girl at the local all-night food stand. Faye has developed a crush on the local uniformed beat cop who makes his rounds every night, Badge 663 (Hard Boiled’s Tony Leung). As fate would have it, 663 is also dealing with a breakup to a gorgeous stewardess. The Stewardess visits the food stand on 663’s off night and leaves a letter for him with the key to his apartment.

Faye commandeers the letter (and the keys) and begins to enjoy hanging out in 663’s apartment on the sly when she’s supposed to be doing errands in town for the food stand. 663 notices the intrusions almost immediately but assumes, naturally, that his stewardess is checking up on him, which both delights and infuriates Faye.

Eventually 663 catches Faye in the apartment, which causes him to realize that he’s liked her all along. He invites her out to dinner, but she stands him up and runs off to see California. When she returns some time later, as a stewardess, she finds 663 has purchased the food stand from its previous owner– their roles now completely flipped.

Chungking Express elevated Wong Kar-Wai’s reputation internationally and brought him a new level of critical acclaim and popular attention. There are three major factors that have kept this film in discourse continually since its original exhibition: Wong and cinematographer Christopher Doyle’s excellent handheld photography; the brilliant performances of the major cast; and finally the universal themes of loneliness, longing, and the hope to be understood.

The cinematography is so self-evidently beautiful and creates such a direct throughline to the characters’ emotions that Chungking Express is one of those special films where advanced visual storytelling techniques don’t come off as pretentious or as the work of an artist showing off his prowess– they’re felt.

Even a casual audience that doesn’t know the difference between a telephoto or a wide angle lens understands the gorgeous split focus shot of Tony Leung in the foreground, waiting for Faye Wong as the bar patrons whizz by out of focus.

Everything is anchored in character and so, very little needs to be explained. When we first see Brigette Lin’s character winding her way through the streets of Hong Kong in that blonde wig and sunglasses against the surreal streaks of neon whizzing by her shock of blonde hair and black sunglasses we can infer everything we need to know about her right then and there. Contrast this with how Takeshi Kaneshiro is filmed in static shots; waiting for an answer by the phone or staring at items in a convenience store. These are people existing in different worlds that operate mere blocks apart from one another.

The second story uses its framing to portray the whimsy of Faye as she begins to occupy more and more of 663’s space without his knowledge; the hustle of Kowloon streets during peak hours; and the indecision of a man who doesn’t realize what he wants until it may have moved on.

It’s pure visual storytelling and it is the reason that Chungking Express is so often described as an “exciting” film, or an “energetic” one. When audiences can ground the fancy camerawork directly into the characters, their brains are truly experiencing film’s ability to tell stories as a distinct medium. You can communicate so much in the manipulation of images that would take a novelist or playwright much longer to explain in text or dialogue.

As you might expect from a film where the visuals are so beholden to characterization, Chungking Express depends a lot on the central performances for the energy of the film. Tony Leung is probably the most respected Chinese language actor working today, and he’s essentially playing the straight man to Faye Wong’s more manic and mysterious counter girl. A lesser actor could be swallowed up, but he finds so much humor and humanity in his introspection that it’s impossible not to root for him.

Canto Pop idol Brigette Lin gives the single best performance of her career as the unnamed Blonde Wig Woman. The first segment is largely built around her desperation to keep herself safe as the cryptic criminal scheme she’s a part of falls to pieces around her. What I was struck by most of all in this last viewing was how subtly she begins to shift as she accepts Takeshi Kaneshiro’s company in the bar. She can’t use her eyes as most actors would, and so she beautifully shifts her body language and it entirely communicates her bemusement and relief that she’s dealing with someone who isn’t out to take something from her.

When I saw the film most recently, I was struck by the vulnerability and honesty of Takeshi Kaneshiro in the opening segments. It’s very easy in a character drama for a character who is completely invested in their own heartbreak to become insufferably egocentric, but Kaneshiro is endlessly sweet. He hits just the right notes of wistfulness, humor, and honesty so that you, the viewer, are constantly surprised and delighted. He’s never tedious in a role that easily could have become so.

That leads us into what I see as the film’s greatest strength: the themes.

Wong Kar-Wai is a classical romantic: life is felt more than considered. His characters are defined by their desire for one another, for understanding, for romance but then time and circumstance is set in opposition. Unlike in Hollywood, love does not conquer all but it provides insights that make the waiting, the longing, that takes up so much of our short lives, worthwhile.

Chungking Express gives us strong characters, and then careens them against one another like billiard balls, whose impacts are momentary, but the momentum from them carries the people a great distance.

Each time I revisit the film I’m compelled to consider my own life: the people I love, the time I’ve invested, and what it all means.

I can think of no greater compliment to give a film. A true classic.

Chungking Express is available on 4K Blu-ray from The Criterion Collection