When Anne and I are too tired to go out to the movies, and we want to watch something light, engaging, and thought-provoking, we sometimes watch Chungking Express. It holds a place not unlike The Princess Bride or Amelie for me... one of those films that's just a light-hearted joy. It's three short stories about love, each one characterized by a different style and focusing on a different love story. And it shows off the visual style of Wong Kar-Wai, minus the heavy angst that runs through In the Mood for Love and 2046.

Three Times is similar in that it includes three short stories about men and women in love, and they're very different in style, substance, and era. Each one is so subtle and understated, it makes the repressed love story of Wong's In the Mood for Love seem excessive. Hou seems to be challening himself to see how much he can saw with how little. As in The Flowers of Shanghai, the story is not so much in what the characters say as it is in their body language... and even there the important, revealing details are in seemingly incidental gestures, fleeting glances, hesitations.

For those who like to look for the story, it's a joy. Each story is mysterious and open to interpretation. Each one offers a world of interesting contrasts with the other two. And, I may be reading too much into it, but I think "Three Times" is about more than just the obvious three-story structure. There were some intriguing "threes" in each episode, especially regarding the way each story includes three key characters... and the three lead actors star in each of the three stories.

The performances of the two leads are excellent. The musical selections are wide-ranging, and Hou's use of musical repetition is interesting, since that's a favorite technique of Wong's as well. The settings are ablaze with light, from the blazing white light shining in from outside to the warm golden glow of a table lamp. The frequent division of the frame by the vertical lines of doorways, windows, and mirrors makes me wonder if Hou ever stops paying tribute to Ozu... or if he's absorbed that style so much that he just can't help himself.

But the film differs from Chungking Express drastically in one sense: While the first film is as bright and spirited as a valentine, the second is painfully sad, and the third is the most despairing and dismaying thing I've seen from this filmmaker yet (although I've only seen three of his films, so maybe I've missed something). I was wrung out by the experience. But I'll definitely be watching it again.

Oh, and one more thing: If anybody's keeping a list, put this film under the heading "Films That Celebrate Smoke... and Smoking." There are some amazing puffs of smoke in this film. And that seems appropriate, since all three love stories reveal themselves through the merest traces, and if you're not paying attention, the beautiful moments are gone in a moment.

Now I'm off to read Jonathan Rosenbaum's review.

Nice Jeffrey. So glad you enjoyed this one.

Over at FilmJourney, I wrote an initial response to Three Times:

The first section was sweet, but I can't help thinking it was a bit facile. Had it been in English, I don't think I would've much cared for it, but the diversion of the exotic setting and the loveliness of the female lead were sufficiently distracting.

The second segment was ambitious, but it didn't quite work. I may have appreciated it more if I had a better understanding of Taiwan's history in the early 20th century, but even with a greater grasp of that, I doubt that would've been enough to carry the second story. The choice of classical music was interesting and elegant, but it distracted me throughout. At some point, the segment began to feel interminable, and the audience's general unrest became noticeable. There were a few walkouts.

The walkouts picked up with the third segment. I was determined to hang with it, but I felt it slipping away not too long into the segment. I simply didn't care about the two characters, or the other female. The film began to test my patience.

This is coming across as too negative. The film was, of course, gorgeous to look at, and the two lead performers have terrific screen presence. But those elements were established early on; the narrative wasn't nearly as satisfying.

--Today, I feel more friendly toward the film, especially that first (smoke-filled:)) segment. My memories of the second are also warmer, although I can't shake the impression that it simply went on too long. It's section 3 that I think might most reward a second viewing.

Part of my eagerness to see the film again is that I think my wife would enjoy those first two segments. Ever had that experience -- wanting to see a film again not because you loved it, but because you think your wife might enjoy it? I'm sure Sarah would hate segment 3, but oh well.

I don't want to derail the discussion of Three Times, but my FilmJourney post also included this: "I love contemplation and elusive suggestions in other films, but here, I lost patience with it."

I bring that up because it reminds me of The New World, another film I lost patience with, and which did not improve (much) on second viewing. I told Sarah, "I predict you'll bail out of this movie before the 30-minute mark," but no, she watched the entire thing with me. She didn't care for the film, but I was impressed that she hung with it. Heck, I was impressed I hung with it a second time. Now that I feel confirmed in my earlier response, I won't watch it again.

I know you disagree strongly about The New World, Jeffrey, but I wanted to mention it here because I do think it, like Three Times, is largely about visual rhythms. Agreed?

Last year at TIFF I saw an old Hong Kong film called The Wild, Wild Rose, which was selected for the festival and introduced by Tsai Ming-liang. During the Q&A afterwards, he was asked why contemporary Taiwanese filmmakers, in general, and he and Hou, specifically, were so nostalgic for the '50s and '60s. He said there were two main reasons: first, because that was the golden age of cinema for them; second, because he loves the melodrama and oversized emotions of those old films. That last comment has helped me make more sense of the musical numbers that pop up so frequently in Tsai's films.

I mention all of this because the more time I spend with Hou, the more I'm struck by his melancholy. At some point, I'd like to rewatch all of his films in short succession to see if this idea holds up, but I'm beginning to think that there's something almost reactionary about his films. Tsai's contemporary Taiwan is an alienating and corrupting place, but there are usually hints of some kind of grace to be found in them. I have trouble finding anything but bleak resignation, though, in Hou's recent portraits of today's youth. The third section of Three Times and pretty much every moment of Millennium Mambo are filled with lost souls, and I don't hold out much hope for them. By comparison, the young people of the first two episodes seem much less cynical, less beaten down.

Of course, between Millennium Mambo and Three Times, Hou made Cafe Lumiere, which I think is an incredibly touching film. Its main characters, who are also young, are endlessly curious and capable, so maybe my idea is crap. But I wonder if that film's setting in Japan and the influence of Ozu, to whom it is dedicated, are responsible for the difference.

Sigh... I missed Three Times when it played in Lincoln a few weeks ago. So I guess I'll have to wait for the DVD.

I've only seen one Hou film so far: Cafe Lumiere, which I loved and appreciated so much. I think I've got Millennium Mambo somewhere in my Netflix queue, so I'm slowly going to work my way through his films.

Amen to that. The third episode was a shock to me. I couldn't believe it, but it made me nostalgic for the concubine system of the 1911 episode!

I need to see Millenium Mambo.

And Christian, I'll admit that the visuals and pacing of the film are more than enough to keep me hooked. I was never bored. But it's too early for me to say whether the narratives are insubstantial. I found them compelling enough on a first viewing, but I'll be interested to see how they play a second and third time. I think the real draw of the film is in discovering how moments in one story compare/contrast with moments in the others, so it's not so much about compelling stories as it is about examining different choices, contexts, and moments.

Three Times played in Lincoln?!



Yeah, it's that juxtaposition that I found so fascinating. But, I guess watching Flowers of Shanghai (1998) and Millennium Mambo (2001) back-to-back would likely have the same effect.

We actually have a decent university theatre -- The Ross -- that gets some pretty good movies. Right now, they're showing Water, with L'Enfant coming up next. Sadly, I never get there nearly as often as I'd like to, which explains why I missed Three Times.

I definitely agree with this. I think the root of a lot of this sentiment is really encapsulated in Hou's The Time to Live and the Time to Die quite well, and the idea that his family was just supposed to live in Taiwan for a short time (until his father's health would improve), then ended up not being able to ever go back to mainland China because of the Communist takeover. Tsai's alienation is not the same in this respect; there is not an uprooting and profound disconnection from a sense of lost home the way there is in Hou's. There's just no way to go back to Hou's childhood home in mainland China, it just doesn't exist anymore.

Anyway, as someone who didn't particularly care for Millennium Mambo and was only lukewarm to Café Lumière, I really, really liked Hou's latest direction with Three Times (wrote a bit about it at NYFF) and the way that each "mini scene" played out as a kind of crystallization of one entire relationship that was spanning several generations (because they were played by the same actors) as a kind of reincarnation, lost souls looking to correct "mistakes" of the past but each time, never quite connecting completely. As I mentioned in the comments on my site, it reminded me a little of what Chantal Akerman did with Toute une nuit.

Regarding Three Times, regrettably I've had the DVD for quite some time and have not gotten around to watching it. This thread reminds me that I need to make that a higher priority.

Regarding Millenium Mambo, the first scene is one of my favorite scenes ever. It is very simple, just Shu Qi walking along an overpass, but I'd call it perfect. I became very bored partway through the movie, though, and turned it off. Perhaps I should give it a second chance.



I can tell you exactly what effect this combo would have on me. I'm not sure I'd ever wake up.

It's not a great film, but it was the only one available at my local library, and until Three Times, was the only of the director's films I'd seen. Rather dreary, IIRC, but that actress -- I have a hard time taking my eyes off her.

Um, what does Mr. Shyamalan have to do with Three Times?

Whoa, sorry about that. I had been typing replies in the "Lady in the Water" thread and somehow pasted one of those replies into this thread.

I've deleted it the thread-irrelevant paragraphs.