A thought-provoking and
emotionally perceptive drama, THE MAP OF SEX AND LOVE continues what
might be termed the "gentle melancholy" of Evans Chan Yiu-shing's
films. His earlier works TO LIV(E) (1991) and CROSSINGS (1994) share
a number of characteristics with MAP: sympathy for those displaced
or otherwise on the margins, strongly written female roles, astute
political commentary, the evolution (and devolution) of societies
brought about by the rise and fall of colonialism, journeys both literal
and cerebral, and worlds in which literature and the fine arts are
as prevalent and influential in the protagonists' lives as the junk
culture touchstones shaping most other cinema these days. While they
are all important components of his work, one of Chan's most notable
trademarks is the way he tells his stories amidst an omnipresent aura
created through music, imagery, dialogue, and the rhythm of his editing.
With this sombre but seductive ambience engaging the viewer, he can
then gradually develop his themes and conflicts, confident that we
will stay attentive and game to explore the next avenue put before
us.
Young Chinese-American filmmaker Wei-ming
(Bernardo Chow Man-kei) travels from New York to his childhood home
on Lamma Island to make a digital video documentary about the imminent
opening of a Disneyland theme park in Hong Kong. While doing research
for the project, he is picked up one evening by Larry (Victor Ma Choi-wo),
a dancer/choreographer. The two men have sex but Wei-ming becomes
nervous and flees when Larry expresses a desire to see him again.
Wei-ming visits Mimi (Cherie Ho Pui-yi), a chatroom friend who also
turns out to be Larry's downstairs neighbor. The two men grow closer
while the skittish and homophobic girl (who feels more comfortable
dealing with people via the distance of cyberspace) tries to come
to terms with the dissatisfaction brought about by her self-contained
world. A report about gold stolen from Holocaust victims by the Nazis
and laundered in Macau following WWII prompts the three youths to
travel there. In doing so, Wei-ming hopes that he may come to grips
with his father's apparent participation in the crime.
This is a visually arresting film,
full of both natural and man made beauty. Interestingly, it was also
the first Hong Kong production to be shot on digital video, a format
used for about 40-50% of the productions shot in the former British
colony nowadays. Unlike the vast majority of those low-budget endeavors,
cinematographer O Sing-pui (who shot Fruit Chan's MADE IN HONG KONG
and directed GOLDEN SWALLOW, one of the most visually intoxicating
of the A CHINESE GHOST STORY imitations) demonstrates here that DV
has the potential to be every bit as aesthetically pleasing as celluloid,
if manipulated with care. The cast gives the sort of committed and
courageous performances found in Chan's earlier films, with Cherie
Ho Pui-yi (so memorable as the teenage girl at the heart of Bryan
Chang Wai-hung's AFTER THE CRESCENT) the standout this time. Ho has
a remarkable, soul-bearing monologue in the second half that is a
turning point for her character. It is a difficult speech, and one
which could easily trip up a relative newcomer, but the actress is
plaintive without being melodramatic, making the scene truly poignant.
The director's one-woman stock company, Lindzay Chan Ling-chi, is
also on hand in a supporting role that initially seems like a radical
departure but turns out to be a valid continuation of the earnest
women she played so memorably in the earlier films. The two homosexual
protagonists essayed by Chow and Ma also display a complexity and
tenderness that go far beyond the cartoonish stereotypes that continue
to people mainstream HK cinema, even into the 21st century. As happened
in TO LIV(E) through an appearance by Elsie Tu, Chan does temporarily
"break the mood" in MAP with his inclusion of observations
from a real-life Macau journalist. The background information the
man relays would have been better conveyed through voiceover or other
similar narrative device but the sequence is just a brief misstep.
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