Rewatched 3.5 It's strange now seeing this again. A wave of nostalgia wafted through the air. I remember the millennium (and the earlt years after that) so well. Everything around had a certain rhythm so fast you couldn't keep up. There was room for mistakes and foolishness. Looking back I'm torn between regrets and acceptance. Yet one persists, same with Vicky. 2001 feels so long ago now.
starts off like a bedroom drama with Cassavete-inspired situations of domestic abuse but it eventually becomes a self-indulgent, narrated coming-of-age vehicle for the lead. probably stylistic ripoff material for "Lost In Translation". another one of those: "if they're so poor then how come their apartment was so much nicer than mine?" movies.
I'm with The Guardian's Derek Malcolm who writes, "You could say that the film is both too long and too thin.... But there are two blessings - the cinematography and the performance from Qi Shu as Vicky." The color palate and atmosphere are eveloping, but I found my interest waning heading into the second hour.
Shifting camera angles and pulsing lights create a hypnotizing, surrealist feel. The long absences in dialogue accentuate the down-and-out mood, but the foreshadowing narration seemed awkward to me and I could never understand Vicky's desire to return to Hao-hao after she had an easy escape. It's too bad Shu qi has to spend so much screen time with Chun-hao Tuan.
Treat Triple H's tale of dissolute youth as a mood poem to the twin demons of excess and waste. I particularly enjoyed the from-the-future narrative voice and the use of an omniscient camera that pans around a room like a bird from above surveying the action (or the wreckage, in some cases). I mark it down slightly for its sliver of a plot and an ending that left me a bit cold, literally and figuratively. 3.5 stars.