Aesthetically, this film is so inventive. Wong clearly took a lot of cues from Godard, and Doyle also was pathbreaking in his use of frame rate, lighting, and framing. Filming hands, slippers, street lamps, rainfall, hallways. It's all gorgeous. And Maggie and Tony. Their wardrobe: her almost sleeveless dresses, his neckties and suits, his shiny hair.
That haunting score alternating with Nat King Cole in Spanish.
But the narrative keeps going round in circles.
It's cool that we get to wonder if that little boy is their lovechild.
But wait: the footage of Charles De Gaulle arriving in Cambodia. What the fuck?
Then the Angkor Wat visit by Tony Leung. That's the ending, seriously? That didn't work for me at…