It seems that in the world of cinema, all roads do lead to the US. Even in China, with a self-sustainable film industry and an audience base of over one billion, many of its directors immigrate. One of the best examples is Ang Lee, who after the success of Eat Drink Man Woman went on to make Sense and Sensibility, the Ice Storm, and eventually win an Oscar for Brokeback Mountain. Another example is the lesser -known but equally-talented Wong Kar Wai, who made the touching drama Chungking Express and the beautiful and atmospheric In the Mood for Love. And following suit, this week sees the release of Wong Kar Wai’s first English-language film, My Blueberry Nights.
The film attempts to embrace one of the US’s most typical genres: the road movie. Elizabeth (Norah Jones. Yes, that one) attempts to exorcise the ghosts of her last relationship by going on a journey of self discovery. Starting in New York, as she discusses her past with a lonely café-owner (Jude Law), her journeys have her encounter a cop who resorts to alcoholism to block out his ex-wife, and a gambling addict with a miserable history of her own.
If this doesn’t sound particularly interesting, that’s because it isn’t. Of course, Wong Kar-Wai’s films never sound like much on paper. In the Mood For Love is a slight tale of neighbour’s who fall in love, but are unable to act on it. It greatness lies in its cinematography, its melancholic soundtrack emphasising a longing that can’t be expressed, its oblique stylistics. My Blueberry Nights uses a lot of these techniques, but the effect feels flat.
This is mostly due to the performance of Norah Jones. Apparently, the was the only choice for the movie, but whatever the director saw in her didn’t make it into the camera lens. At times she’s stiff. At other times she’s trying so hard to come off as sincere that even a first-year drama student could do better. The film is saved by its good support cast. David Strathairn is engaging as the emotionally wounded drunk, as is Natalie Portman as the poker-addict in self-denial.
But it’s also the script that makes the film so unenjoyable. Dull and clichéd lines such as “ It took me nearly a year to get here. It wasn’t so hard to cross that street after all, it all depends on who’s waiting for you on the other side†or “Even if the door is open, the person you’re looking for may not be there†may have felt livening to a director first experiencing the world of US cinema, but to anyone else it feels almost amateurish.
Even the soundtrack feels stale. Cat Power’s “The Greatest†may be a popular song, but it’s the kind of uninspired tepid country that has disappointed a lot of the musician’s previous fans of her subtle but intense tunes. Like the film, it lulls along without being annoying, but without impressing either. The film even recycles the theme tune of In the Mood For Love, but using a dreary harmonica instead of wailing and lonesome violin.
My Blueberry Nights makes the simple mistake of a director being inspired by a new world of cinema to explore, yet not checking himself against every other example to see if it has already been done before. But even still, the film lacks the intense repression that made his previous works so fascinating, losing his distinguishing traits in the translation.
