Days of Being Wild

Wong Kar-Wai may just be the most brilliant filmmaker in existence's long tirade. That may be just an insignificantly tiny stretch of the truth, but I think the oh so incredibly mild exaggeration is well worth the man that auteured my all time top favorite film for the moment 2046. No, I don't really play favorites, as I said once or twice, but if I did, I would probably go with this. His films are jarring collisions of poetic realism, hard-boiled style pulp characters, and that brutal unrequitedness that accompanies all of Kar-Wai's manifestations of love. Perhaps it's the shear amount of time and work that his characters have to put into their love if they want it to bear fruit that I adore about his films, and the fact that even then most times it doesn't work out all happily ever after. Yet his films still all leave me with a sense of the absolute value of love even when they don't end Cinderella style. His beautiful lilting writing brings great blissful worry to my mind, and I'm always left in a wistfully beatific state through my thorough indulgence in the modern cinema's great poet.
The lushness of the Kar-Wai/Chris Doyle color pallete is also one of the ongoing happinesses of the cinematic experience. Watching the shift from the muted luxuriance of the early films to the fierce elegance of their current work has been a true discovery of the heart for me. That In the Mood for Love might be the most masterful use of color ever is only mildly over the top hyperbole. It's just so freaking beautiful, it makes me well up with tears of joy. All the way, ride!