Ashes of Time: Scholar Productions
Rating: USA: Unrated

For such a small island, Hong Kong has created its fair share of legendary filmmakers over the past few decades. Men like Tsui Hark, John Woo, Ringo Lam, and countless others have become not only celebrities on the island, but have achieved at least a cult crossover style of success that makes their work sought out the world over. And while all of these filmmakers are talented and their work speaks for itself, none of them have received the critical acclaim (and occasionally condemnation) that has been leveled at the work of Wong Kar-Wai (Chungking Express, Fallen Angels). Wong, who’s essentially become the poster boy for post-modernist Asian cinema, has made a career out of crafting films that are often sumptuous in their visuals, confounding in their narrative structure, and filled with melancholy and an almost nihilistic world view. Perhaps the finest example of these aesthetics can be seen in Wong’s 1994 film Ashes of Time.

Based on a popular novel by Louis Cha, Wong’s film reportedly only bears a minor resemblance to the source material (I use the word ‘reportedly’ since I haven’t read Cha’s novel, therefore cannot compare the two). It appears as though Wong has stripped the book down to its barest components, infused it with his own typical thematic issues, and painted it with the glowing sheen of an art film. It’s almost impossible to write an effective and accurate plot synopsis for the film—part of the charm of Ashes of Time is in the experiencing of it—and trying to piece it all together. It’s an artistic heroic fantasy at its core—sort of a melding of the standard Tsui Hark/Ching Siu Tung film as if directed by Godard. Ultimately, it’s a film that almost defies classification—or that can only be classified as part of a small, but ever growing oeuvre…a Wong Kar-Wai film.

Wong has assembled a top notch cast comprised of many of Hong Kong’s biggest stars to tell this tale of loves found and lost, of men who can leap trees and kill thousands of men, but can’t function while interacting with the opposite sex, and the quiet descent into melancholy and ultimately despair.

The film is guaranteed to confound most western audiences—partially because the translation of the subtitles seems to only provide the most basic gist of what’s being said, and more because the film follows a completely non-linear narrative path. If you thought the narrative progression of Pulp Fiction was confounding, well, you ain’t seen anything ‘til you’ve seen Ashes of Time. However, unlike Pulp Fiction (a film where the non-linear narrative seemed more gimmicky than essential to the plot), this disjointed approach almost seems necessary here. Wong’s film benefits from the confusion caused by the hard to follow plot progression because it makes the audience concentrate more on the action. Plus, it lends a more of an ethereal quality to the tale.

Leslie Cheung is Ou-yang Feng, a man living alone in a desert hovel, drinking a wine purported to erase his memory so that he can forget his unrequited love. Feng is an agent for assassins—the man you come to in order to hire a killer. This position allows Wong to bring 9 other major characters into contact with Feng and tell each of their stories in a short vignette. Feng’s friend is Yao-shi Huang (Tony Leung Ka-fai) a handsome swordsman with an unrequited love of his own. Brigitte Lin turns up, once again playing a dual role as a character who dresses as both a male and a female (not unlike her roles in Swordsman 2 and Dragon Inn). It’s never really clear if she’s simply one schizophrenic person or indeed is two people. However, a scene that provides closure to her vignette shows her battling her own water reflected shadow—draw your own conclusions.

The rest of the cast features Jacky Cheung as Hung Qi, a shoeless swordsman, Li Bai as his wife, Tony Leung Chiu wai as a blind swordsman, Carina Lau as his love Peach Blossom, and Charlie Yeung as a virginal young woman looking to avenge the death of her brother at the hands of bandits.

While all of these performances are excellent, the film’s greatest performance comes from Maggie Cheung in an uncredited role. Cheung’s character is the central character of the film even though she doesn’t even appear onscreen until the last act. She is the woman that both Feng and Huang love, but neither can have. Cheung’s performance is mesmerizing—she’s a beautiful actress, and the way that Wong and director of photography Christopher Doyle shoot her here only highlights this by adding a sad, but elegant air to the proceedings. If that weren’t enough, she also gets a nearly 10 minute monologue that serves to tie up all the thematic material that’s been swirling around for the previous 85 minutes. If you need a reason to see this film, I can think of none more impressive than Maggie Cheung’s performance.

Yet, not all of the magic stems from the acting. This is a Wong Kar Wai film, and anyone who’s familiar with the auteur knows that his films are always beautifully lensed affairs dealing with the philosophy of anguish--Ashes of Time is no exception.

To point out all of the visual splendor in this film would require me to write a small book—Wong and Christopher Doyle once again bring their distinctive style to the table and craft a film that is simply gorgeous to look at visually.

The film is a bit of a departure from the standard Wong Kar Wai visual style—there’s a more static camera at work here as opposed to the normally frenetic style that colors his more modern films. The desert is captured in a series of static shots that really drive home the desolate nature of the location and the imposing beauty of it as well—all while making the audience wonder if the desert has made Feng a hard man or vice versa. In many ways, this style of filmmaking calls to mind the work of Japanese filmmaker Beat Takeshi Kitano—another proponent of keeping the camera in a set position.

However, there is a contrast to this—and it occurs in the film’s battle scenes. While Ashes of Time is a heroic swordsman film, there’s a marked lack of violence when compared to the works of genre mainstays like Ching Siu Tung. Fans looking for a film filled with fantastical sword fights would be advised to look elsewhere. Wong films the few battle sequences here in a hyper-stylized manner with lots of slow motion, blurry visuals, and frenetic camera work. This creates a sense of confusion during the swordfights (which is also heightened by the fact many of the characters look a lot alike) but also helps recreate just how fast and furious these kinds of hand-to-hand battles really were.

I viewed Ashes of Time on DVD. The presentation isn’t the greatest—the visuals look a little soft, the colors muted, etc. The film is subtitled, but unfortunately, to cover up the Chinese subs, the company has placed a black bar over the bottom third of the screen to cover them up. On one hand, this is nice because it makes the white subtitles readable throughout. On the other hand, it covers up the bottom third of Christopher Doyle’s beautiful scene compositions. The subs themselves are readable, but filled with the standard spelling and usage errors, which is a shame because the dialogue plays a vital role in this film.

I’ve barely scratched the surface here, but to go on would be to risk writing a meandering dissertation instead of a review. Ashes of Time is certainly not for everyone—it requires your complete attention for all of its 95 minute running time, and even then, it still keeps secrets that might only be resolved through another viewing. The plus side of this is that if you do pay attention, you’ll be rewarded with a film that’s so engaging that you won’t mind seeing it another two, three, or four times. If you’re looking for a meditative and artistic heroic fantasy film, then Ashes of Time is well worth a look.




Recommended: Yes