Cheung Wan Suet, UID 3036234401
The reading discussed In The Mood Of Love and the 1960s Hong Kong characterised by its state of temporality and conflicting existence. The impermanency awkwardly puts everything into ambiguity — the ambiguity of love and the ambiguity of this city. Even in a more modern context, I still wonder what defines as characteristically Hong Kong. Is it the Chinese culture, the coloniality, or is it a subtle blending of both? There are no definite answers, as Hong Kong still struggles with the constant phenomena of appearing and disappearing: the Kowloon Walled City, Kai Tak Airport, Edinburgh Place Ferry Pier, and most recently, the taking down of iconic neon lights and the replacement of street signs.
A quote in In The Mood For Love says, “That era has passed, nothing that belonged to it exists anymore”. Things are vanishing and it is irreversible. However, Wong Kar Wai seems to present a romanticised nature of the past — things exist only transitorily and briefly, but they are beautiful because people forevermore fail to capture them ever again. In fact, we could also see the self-contained interior camera frame allows the viewers in the 1990s to voyeuristically peek into the irrevocable beautiful past of the 1960s. The movie also intriguingly ends the story with the characters encountering each other at the architectural site of Angkor Wat, the once glorious religious complex which is now a ruin. The past is a ruin, but the fact that it is a ruin is still beautiful.
I guess it is a way to see the reappearance and the disappearance happening in the city.
— Yvonne Cheung
I appreciate your choice to bring up real-life examples of disappearing places to further reinforce your point and highlight the continued relevance of this sentiment. Your reading reflects a depth of understanding of the themes of disappearance and transience to understand its appeal for audiences and filmmakers. Do you think the parts of the city once gone are lost forever?