My Blueberry Nights

Wong Kar-wai loves subways. He cherishes their rushing, violent movements and the screeching sound the metal makes as they turn over a city corner. He adores the otherworldly lights cast out by the rectangular, symmetrical windows found on every cart, and the headlights that illuminate everything in front of the train. In the case of My Blueberry Nights, these lights are green and sickly, subtly conveying the cold and unwelcoming winter of New York City. In Happy Together, they are white and lively, marking the endless possibilities of its protagonist’s future. Always, Wong sneaks in shots of subways or trains into his films, like Hitchcock did. Also like Hitchcock, Wong has a flair for romances, and in a crowded city, where his films always take place, subways are the perfect vehicles to bring people together or tear them apart. The potency and singularity of his vision ensures that he will find a way to make room to present the things he loves in a way that will make audiences love them like he does. 

One night Elizabeth is mugged in a subway, an incident that sends her running into the nearest cafe. There, she befriends the owner, Jeremy, who by some bizarre coincidence was also mugged that day. Perhaps it’s Wong’s mischievous way of letting audiences know that they were meant to be. They engage in long conversations of romantic longing while eating the juiciest, most vibrant, and exquisite pies ever put on film. This makes up the sweetest portion of the whole film, as Wong establishes a welcoming environment where Elizabeth feels safe. Soon, Jeremy falls in love, and Elizabeth does too, though she’s not fully aware of it yet. She takes a cross-country trip to figure herself out. 

First, Elizabeth makes her way into a downtrodden Memphis bar that seeps regret from every corner. The red glow of the neon signs, paired with the warm glow of the southern sun brightly shining from the outside makes the place feel uniquely alive, yet bursting with tension. Elizabeth, calling herself Lizzie, observes a local cop who tells her of his struggle with alcoholism and of his estranged wife. Arnie, the cop, has difficulty letting go of the thing he loves, though not for a lack of trying. His wife, Sue Lynne, abandoned him for another man. It is implied that she became sober after leaving him. He is played by David Straithairn and she by Rachel Weisz, both extremely talented actors who bring unexpected complexity to their roles that make it impossibly hard to set the blame on the shoulders of one party. They are both hurt, and both partly responsible for the deterioration of their marriage. Sue Lynne has a monologue that reveals the depth of her love for a man she appeared to despise. Wong Kar-wai has often been criticized for making pictures devoid of any real content: style for it’s own sake. The early scenes with Sue Lynne are shot through with red lights and filters, making them bold and melodramatic, intensified by Weisz’s over-the-top performance, perhaps going a touch too far. But her monologue, shot in a more quiet and restrained manner, ultimately offers proof that nothing is as simple as it seems. Wong always has something in mind other than the pretty pictures. Lizzie watches and learns, perhaps drawing parallels between Arnie’s devotion to Sue Lynne and her own unhealthy obsession to the boyfriend that hurt her so much that it made her leave New York. 

Elizabeth, now Beth, settles down in a small Nevada casino that gives her the opportunity to study the reckless personalities of the crooks and gamblers that frequent it. One in particular catches her eye. Natalie Portman’s Leslie has no regard for the past. She lives in the moment, her only concern being the cash she needs to get her hands on to stake her next poker game. Even while she plays, she’s relentlessly singleminded and refuses to see a larger picture other than the cards that are placed in front of her. Leslie’s style makes her either win or lose big, with no middle ground. She doesn’t seem to care either way, as long as she gets the thrill of instant gratification when she goes all or nothing. Critics have said that Wong’s films existing solely in the present tense, yet his own criticism of Leslie paints a different picture. Wong (and Beth by extension) admires the foolish courage of the lifestyle (which is maybe what critics pick up on), but in the way he develops Leslie’s story he demonstrates an understanding that the past cannot be fully erased or abandoned. 

Norah Jones (Elizabeth), exhibiting an almost angelic beauty, quietly witnesses the events of the film. She plays a passive heroine, occasionally offering a kind word of advice or a warm smile. Her primary purpose, though, is to watch and learn. Through her travels, she gains perspective. Jones adequately delivers the required dialogue, as well as several lines of poetic voiceover in the form of letters to Jeremy, but most of the growth in character comes through her expressions. This is her first film, and already she exhibits the careful control that takes many actors years to perfect. With the subtlest of smiles and eye movements, she conveys Elizabeth’s innate empathy and curiosity, her need to evolve and improve herself. Most actresses in her situation would have opted for histrionics, something she tactfully avoids. She’s a pro. 

Wong's visual jazz underscores every moment, gesture, and frame of My Blueberry Nights, beautifully enhancing the meandering story of this lost woman wandering through the country. His signature step-printing and bold colors make every image last a little longer and seem a little brighter than usual, leaving deep impressions as they pass: the closeup of Elizabeth’s high heels as she misstep on an uneven New York City sidewalk after being shaken to her core; the first sensual bite of blueberry pie she takes to forget her troubles; the smoke rising from Jeremy's cigarettes, mixing with his cold, foggy breath as he patiently awaits his beloved's return by the side of the street. These perfectly crafted, achingly romantic, images represent an almost perfect distillation of the personal style of Wong Kar-wai, one of the few directors who can make viewers see the world as he sees it. Cinema doesn’t get much better than that.  

Verdict- 3.5/4
My Blueberry Nights (2007) 1h 35min. PG-13