People have always been fascinated with cinematography because of its magical power to cast a veil over reality, making them immerse in a thrilling story on the screen. However, one should never forget what an outstanding job is to be done for a spectator’s momentary delight. A single scene can grant a film raving success or destroy its popularity once and for all. The film “In the Mood for Love” appears to be one prolonged frame that never ends. It is like a bizarre hallucinatory dream about love flavored with restraint and oriental eroticism. To expound on the mystery of this dream, one should watch the scene called “Corridor Glance” which conveys the gist of the story.
Indeed, the beauty of this film by Wong Kar-Wai lies in the peculiar atmosphere of China in the 1960s. Being ephemeral and yet exquisite like the fragrance of an exotic flower, “In the Mood for Love” gracefully glides along the fine line of vice and virtue, desire and duty, spiritual and sensual. The setting depicts the lack of freedom, crowded conditions, and austerity of life in a communist country. The main characters, Su Li-Zhen and Chow Mo-wan decide to rent rooms in neighboring apartments. Every day resembles the previous one with its dull routine. They both perform repeating actions: wake up in the morning, go to work, interact with colleagues and landlords, and buy noodles in the corner shop.
Nevertheless, there is subtle venom of infidelity spreading in the air. One day, suspicion brings protagonists together for them not to seek revenge but to enjoy solace in each other’s company. Trying to sublimate the inner pain main, Su and Chow suddenly fall in love with the melancholy melody by Galasso and entrancing variations by Umebayashi. First, they resist the nascent mutual attraction, being guided by mutual pricks of consciousness. This tension electrifies the frame, filling narrow corridors, dark streets, and messy rooms. This is the mood of love – a dense and burning atmosphere masterfully created by the director. Still, the old tree towering among the walls of Angkor Wat keeps the outcome of the story secret.
Admittedly, “Corridor Glance” serves as a key to the riddle of the narration. It is a short scene portraying two lonely people going up and down the concrete ladder at twilight. In the beginning, Su slowly descends the stairs in profound dismay. Then she stands waiting for her noodles inside the shop. After a while, she wearily goes back. She casts a short glance at the person approaching. It turns out to be Chow changing places with her. One has to read between the lines to catch the meaning of the monotonous actions. A specific choice of technical devices is sure to be of great help to go deep into the story.
The atmosphere of this scene seems to be dreamy, mantled with dense mist. Mingling shadows, sounds of violin, and the figure of a beautiful woman resembling a Chinese vase stir the spectator’s imagination. According to a recent article, “The entire scene appears in slow-motion, and the lighting is intensely more dramatic than perhaps any other scene in the film up to this point. It takes place at night, so the only light comes from street lamps; overwhelmingly, the world is dominated by shadow” (Jone, para. 3). There is a feeling of a vicious circle of reticence that never ends.
The delicate accompaniment deserves special attention because it adorns the action with the plangent sound of the violin. Without the doleful music notes, one may never notice the tragedy of loneliness and fear of betrayal that the characters experience. They already know that there is a profound chasm between them and their spouses. They tend to keep silent; the sound is purely non-diegetic throughout the whole episode. However, it is the violin that cries for them, lamenting the fading illusion of harmony in their lives.
Besides, the color is of great interest as a part of the symbolic nature of the frame. According to another article, “The film’s breathtaking use of reds and blacks captures the suppressed intensity of their love as well as the shadows where it must stay. His cinematographers Christopher Doyle and Mark Lee Ping Bin create a colorful world of dark secrets, with bursts of flame threatening to pop out from the darkness only to eventually stay there untapped”
(Murthi, para. 4). Black color dominates the image portraying the ocean of sorrows the main characters are plunged into. At the same time, brisk red emphases may be interpreted as growing passions and sinful thoughts concealed in the darkness of their souls. There are also brisk yellow flashes of the small lamps giving the hope of finding the right way out.
In addition, minor symbols are adding to the atmosphere. Among them are flashes of light reflecting on Su’s cheeks, the shabby wall she passes by, and the way she looks at Chow. All these details seem to tell short stories about the woman’s lust for love that she possibly conceals. However, the author of one more article on “Corridor Glance” claims that “In this sense, the coverage doesn’t have to convey a plot, but it creates an atmosphere, not only in this scene but throughout the whole film. In the ‘traditional’ sense of the term (if that even exists), a scene’s coverage is designed to tell a story and facilitates that first and foremost” (Glover, para. 6). Probably, some hints are wasted on people unfamiliar with Asian culture.
Meanwhile, the contrast and sudden blur of colors, repetitive motions, and beautiful music are likely to correspond to the cultural background of the film. China is believed to be an oriental country where people tend to be restrained. Words may not play the main role because there are details for one to notice. The scene is called “Corridor Glance” because it is the expression of one’s eyes that seems to be of paramount importance for oriental people. If a woman looks directly into the men’s eyes, she is considered to question him, trying to make him do something. Su may have looked at him, trying to ask whether he is to blame for her sorrows. She lowers herself, thinking that he would stop and speak to her, but he has no courage for that.
It might be of interest to pay attention to the way Su and Chow are dressed in this particular frame. Su is in the habit of wearing bright ethnic dresses to underline her astonishing beauty. In “Corridor Glance,” she shows up in a dark plain dress that makes her merge with the background. She is possibly trying to dissolve in the shadows not to let her feeling out. Suddenly the camera brings her into the limelight to help the spectators peep at her and notice their facial expressions. Somehow she looks tired, broken, and yet strong because she is likely to control her emotions. Her hairstyle looks old-fashioned compared to her rival’s taste, but the bun is untidy at that particular moment showing that she is on the verge of crying.
Surprisingly, Chow gives the same impression of a wretched person. His grey suit is crumpled because he seems to be deep in thought. There is no time to care about his appearance if the family affair is at stake. He has lost his wife once and for all with no chance to restore the image of a prosperous husband and a reliable family keeper. One may suppose that Chow has failed to notice Su, but the camera does not show his face. It would be sensible to think that his face reflects Su’s questioning expression hidden under the mask of dignified aloofness.
In addition, there is deep philosophy in this opposition of two similar people changing places. They look like clones trying to solve common problems. However, one should not forget that China is a patriarchal country. In such cultures, a man is expected to take the first step and be decisive. Surely, Chow is a talented journalist and a daydreamer, but there is nothing about traditionally masculine traits of character so far. It may serve as a reason why his wife has left him without even trying to discuss the situation.
Presumably, Chow fears confronting Su’s husband so much that it seems easier for him to escape from the problems. Being such a coward, he may be even hiding his eyes in “Corridor Glance,” knowing exactly that his spineless nature is the root of all evil. There is nothing left to do for him but run away and share his secrets with a tree that cannot disapprove of him. That is the riddle of the film covered in one scene: a man descending the ladder to go away from his love and pain. Still, he is unlikely to forgive himself for the lack of courage.
To sum it up, it is no easy matter to analyze films depicting the reality of such a different culture. The scene under consideration proves that by using technical devices, one may create a multilevel narration that would be understandable only for those people who know that particular culture. In “Corridor Glance” serves as an illustrative example of how one scene may shed light on the whole film making its main conflict understandable. By showing two people climbing a dusty ladder, the director succeeded in conveying the idea of the film and the pulsing tension in the air. Even though some people believe in the merely decorative function of this scene, it proves to be very deep and interesting for interpretation. Such scenes are generally accepted to be key ones.
Works Cited
Glover, Sam. “Scene Analysis: In the Mood for Love.”Media Factory, 2016.
Jone, Ian Bryce. “Silhouettes, Shadows, & Smoke: Lighting in the Mood for Love.”Intermittent Mechanism, 2016.
Murthi, Vikram. “Criticwire Classic of the Week: Wong Kar-Wai’s ‘In the Mood for Love’.”IndieWire, 2015.