It seems accurate to argue that each Wong Kar-Wai movie is the most eclectic piece in the entirety of cinema history. Therefore, describing My Blueberry Nights as a Wong Kar Wai film is enough of a description by itself. On the other hand, without a doubt, My Blueberry Nights is, by a wide margin, the weakest Wong Kar Wai movie I have ever watched. Even worse, the captivating intoxicatingness of 2046 and the aching romanticism of In the Mood for Love is replaced by something much fluffier. My Blueberry Nights, like the pies that it is named after, is just a dessert with little nutritional value, and if eaten too often, is likely to cause canker sores.
This dessert was rich. I am unable to recollect the last movie that was so exquisitely breathtaking. Wong is without Christopher Doyle as his cinematographer for the first time since his debut Tears Go By, but he got a replacement who is awful good. Darius Khondji is a bit grittier than this, but he makes the transition to the candy colored world of nonstop glamour shots with flying colors. It is not the film that Doyle would have shot and we can spend forever debating whether that is good or bad, but for what it is, My Blueberry Nights is exactly what you expect it to be. It is every single shot in the movie has the most beautiful something about it, so much so that to look at the movie is an endlessly wonderful experience regardless of watching it.
The criticism surrounding the movie at the 2007 Cannes festival was way too harsh (and reminds one of the equally brutal criticism that 2046 received back in 2004). Perhaps it was not the best film in competition that with (perhaps it was the worst; the 2007 selection was decidedly strong). I appreciated the aimlessness of the film. And, for all intents and purposes, there was no real sin in it. That, and the non existent acting, but I will discuss that later.
This is what occurs: one winter evening, Liz (singer Norah Jones in her first and purportedly last acting role) steps into a New York diner during the late hours of the night in search of her ex-boyfriend. Jeremy (Jude Law) is the diner’s owner and he serves her a slice of blueberry pie. In the following weeks, Liz and Jeremy have pie-and-coffee suppers every week, and gradually fall for each other. However, before she comes to terms with her feelings, she embarks on a journey across America to rediscover herself. She first travels to Memphis, where she takes up work as a bartender and meets the deeply depressed alcoholic Arnie (David Strathairn) and his wife, the ever suffering Sue Lynne (Rachel Weisz). Their marriage is so distressing that Liz decides to flee to Nevada, where she meets the deeply isolated poker player Leslie (Natalie Portman) and the two women reluctantly have to become friends.
Although we are fully aware of what is about to unfold, there is nothing wrong with a movie that takes its time soaking in the Americana culture, for example, in this film we are treated to an iconic kissing scene that marks a highlight in Wong’s career. What doesn’t work is the display of America which is profoundly flat. I do not believe this can only stem from the directors lack of acquaintance with America He does seem to step out of the Hong Kong boundaries from time to time because of his earlier films. I do not understand why there is a certain charm to viewing the dark and dismal settings of a Memphis dive bar and transforming it with Wong’s branded overly-glamorous decor. In stark contrast to my belief of style being the sole thing giving this film meaning, the director for the first time tries to suggest something for his viewers. Unfortunately, the characters and their issues have no depth at all – especially when seen from Elizabeth’s point of view, who is to be honest a quite unsatisfying character.
Overemphasizing the failures of My Blueberry Nights as the failure of Elizabeth’s depiction does not do justice to this claim, but it is a good place to start. Both Wong and Jones bear some blame for that; the writer-director for trying to make her a very boring part, and Jones for… Well, I cannot in good phrase that a passive participant should be deprecated for not performing so badly. It appears that she was hired more for her naive-looking, butter-wouldn’t melt in her mouth visage and it is true that Khondji’s lens lights up Norah Jones than for any other reason. Aesthetically, all she adds to the film is one piece of music for the soundtrack (although in keeping with the tradition of his other films, it is Cat Power who has the lead role in this one).
Jones certainly is not assisted by her co-stars giving such remarkable performances. Law is being a Law: he is good looking and English and Weisz has next to no character work to do. But Strathairn, who was so stunningly despairing that his very posture almost made me weep, and Portman who is all nerves on the outside and fizzy in the inside, are better than I have seen them in years. Considering how much time Jones has to act with those two, it really is not her fault that she is at such a loss.
Generally, I tend to be harsh on a movie’s acting and character development, but a film such as Chungking Express filled me with a profound love of life, which made the absence of those elements less piercing. In comparison, My Blueberry Nights feels a lot more dull. The main love story is without a doubt Wong Kar-Wai’s, so it is irresistibly charming, but underneath the lusciousness there is hardly a soul, and therefore, the aching sensuality of his best love stories is absent. It is not a pain to sit through it, but apart from developing a deeper appreciation for sheer beauty in the cinema, there is little else to gain from it.
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