AKA: A West Lake Moment.
Director: Zi Yang, Ho Yim.
Language: Mandarin.
Release Year: 2004
Rating: * *1/2
It seems like all I could feast on these days are Asian romantic dramas, and they are turning out to be genuinely worth my while. This particular movie may not rate high among my charts, but there were instances where it really did reach out to me and made me care.
The film opens at the supernal bank of the West Lake, in southern China. Xiao Yu (Zhou Xun) and another guy Tong (Yim Ling) are run over by a drunk driver, and that marks the beginning of a very close-knit relationship. Xiao Yu (Zhou Xun) is an oddball personality, with her own sets of bizarre qualities. She stutters when nervous, and confides in a six-odd-year-old child who happens to be the product of her schizophrenia. Tong is a very down-to-earth guy, with Earth’s climate being his primary concern for the time being, and is doing his part in spreading awareness. Xiao runs a small café along with a couple of her friends, and also owns a tea house. Xiao considers Tong as her best friend, her confidante, if you will. Tong, however, is in love with Xiao, and makes no bones about it. Xiao, on the other hand, is not too keen in getting involved with him, for she thinks he’s still quite young for her. Moreover, she has been in a relationship with an American for quite some time, and the wave of bliss seems to have blown over for her, but she continues to plod along for the sense of security he’s able to provide.
Xiao is constantly at battle with her little “friend”, who’s driving her insane with demands of dumping the American, and settling for someone whom she can genuinely love and expect for the same in return. Xiao soon meets a smart-looking playboy called Qin (Kun Chen), who dreams to become a director. She’s immediately bowled over by him, and those darn feelings of love start surfacing. What’s interesting is that when it comes to quirkiness, even Qin’s on the same page as Xiao. He, too, stutters when nervous, and also has a repressed alter ego which he unwittingly turns to when in need. Despite his Casanova antics, Xiao enjoys Qin’s company more than any thing she’s had lately, and feels at extreme ease to open up to him. Same goes for Qin, who believes that it’s very comforting to share your dark secrets with a stranger, than it is with someone you know. That’s the only intention with which Qin enjoys being with her, but the same can’t be said about Xiao. The constant exposure to this charming, amorous fellow, only adds to her quandary. She finds herself walking the tightrope with a probable love at one end and the sense of security at the other. Tong, on the other hand, lives on the sidelines, always, hoping that Xiao will, one day, realize and give him a chance. Until then, he respects her decision of being close friends, and sticks with her through thick and thin.
Xiao is betrothed to one of his girlfriends, but like any other freewheeling, pleasure seeker, he, too, is afraid of commitment, which results in a fallout between the two. This opens a gate of possibility for Xiao and Qin, who don’t waste a moment in trying their luck at love with each other. As is the case with every relationship, the beginning is spirited, with copious amount of love and affection. Despite Qin’s constant insensitive nitpicking, Xiao stands by him and the relationship, putting up with the brutal criticism and Qin’s mercurial nature. Qin doesn’t share the same sentiments, and eventually, the prospect of being stuck with the same girl takes a toll over him. As a result, Qin’s emotions for Xiao start to dwindle, and one day, unannounced, he just leaves her to languish and nurse a broken heart.
After fate plays a mean hand to Qin, he starts to take things in the right perspective, and the revelation dawns on him that he may have made the biggest mistake of his life. Xiao, on the other hand, withdraws to solitude, locking herself away from the world. A tragedy after the breakup, serves as a catalyst in driving her further into isolation and depression. However, a fortuitous encounter, reignites love for both the leads, setting in motion some predictable turn of events, albeit sweet ones to an extent. The climax is anybody’s guess, and it’s obvious that this is not one of the movies that would leave a sour taste in your mouth, once you’ve finished watching it.
Now, there’s nothing great about the script. In fact, it’s some sporadic moments of pure innocence and puppy love that does tug at your heart. That’s exactly one of the few things that works in the movie's favor. These rather beautiful moments are few and far between, and the movie, overall, doesn’t quite conjure up more of those. In the end, the parts play out better than the whole offering. The director seemed at loss during the start of the movie. First couple of minutes were really haphazardly drawn, cramming quite a lot at the same time, forcing us to branch our train of thought toward different characters, plots and subplots. Barring these fallacies, the director regresses back into his comfort zone, and is able to proceed with the movie at a pace which it demands, constantly shifting his approach depending on the character and the situation. Same goes for the background score. It was aptly composed, complementing the character arcs and the situations. For instance, when Qin was the focus, the score would be a little bouncy, mischievous and naughty. But when Xiao was the center of the attention, the score tuned to soft melody, unveiling her inhibition at expressing her love for Qin, and it also hinted at her all-round demeanor.
Among the aspects that compelled me to sit through the entire movie was the photography, especially that of the titular lake. The mist of the early morning, the dead silence of unruffled water, and nothingness meeting at the horizon of the lake, was captured faithfully and beautifully. The movie takes a very surreal turn at these points, and the vista, among other things, is worth your time spent.
Overlooking the pedestrian story, and giving the “above ordinary” execution its due, the performances by the lead actors was the primary saving grace for this average fare. Kun Chen as the unpretentious womanizer displayed decent enough chops to act. He was not that bad, to put it simply. Yim Ling as Xiao’s overlooked lover, was probably way better than the lead himself. He was able to bring sensibility and maturity to his role. He was superbly stilled when playing out certain slippery scenes of complex emotions. Moreover, if I’m not mistaken, he has also composed the score for this movie. So, it’s a very comprehensive performance indeed.
It’s Xun Zhou who's the real winner, and the one who beguiled me for the entire movie. Just her presence was enough to fill the screen with limitless appeal, and the fact that she’s so damn adorable added to the whole affair. It’s not just the looks, but talents, too. She didn’t falter in even a single scene and, undoubtedly, she steals the show from every actor in the movie. You just can’t stop yourself from loving this character and feeling her pain when she’s given the short end of the stick in love. Her effortless transition from a reposed and self-secured person, to a confused woman uncertain about the choices in love she should make, followed by the lively and childlike energy exuded when her love is requited, is what kept the movie from losing its hold over me. And then, gradually, her spiral into reclusion, pining for the love lost, only to bounce back later on as a much stronger person, completes the journey of her character with aplomb. Honestly, she’s the only reason why I enjoyed this movie. She balanced her act in myriad ways, befitting the need of the hour and the script. If it hadn’t been for her, I wouldn’t even bother writing this review.
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