Musical Discourse in the Films of Wong Kar Wai

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Journal of Chinese Cinemas Volume 2 Number 3 © 2008 Intellect Ltd Article. English language. doi: 10.1386/jcc.2.3.197/1

Memories of sound and light': musical discourse in the films of Wong Kar-wai Ludmila Moreira Macedo de Carvalho University of Montreal

Abstract

This essay promotes an investigation into the musical discourse in the films of Hong Kong auteur Wong Kar-wai, focusing primarily on the way that music is applied to disrupt narrativetime, thus creating what Gilles Deleuze called 'pure optical and sonorous situations'. It also considers the use of popular and preexisting music and the cultural relations established by them, raising the questions of what it means to use songs that are recognizable in a global cultural context, and what they can add to the filmic experience. Although Hong Kong auteur Wong Kar-wai is customarily known for his striking visual style - images of modern living, flashes of urban alienation and aesthetic experimentation condensed in an intricate narrative - I would like to point out that sound and music are also among the most recognizable and fundamental elements of his films. Who doesn't remember, for example, the obsessive repetition of the song 'California Dreaming' in Chungking Express (1994), Nat King Cole's Latin boleros in In The Mood for Love (2000), or Astor Piazolla's Argentinean tangos in Happy Together (1997)? The purpose of this essay is to shed some light on the musical discourse of Wong's films - in other words, to identify the role that music plays in his cinema. Traditionally, film music has been treated as a mere 'accompaniment' to the image, a concept that is reminiscent of the early developments of film sound when films were literally accompanied by a live orchestra or a single pianist/singer (Abel and Altman 2001). The point that even the earliest 'film musicians' understood is that music lends its emotional qualities to whatever image it is associated with. Any music will have an effect when juxtaposed with an image, 'just as whatever two words one puts together will produce a meaning different from that of each word separately, because the reader/spectator automatically imposes meaning on such combinations' (Gorbman 1987: 15). The effects of this association are generally twofold: music can either be used to reinforce or contradict what happens on screen. The mode of reinforcement, also called parallelism, is based on the use of music to match the scene's mood or pace: smooth music for romantic scenes, fast-paced music for action scenes and so on. The counterpoint, on the other hand, consists of the use of music, not to repeat what is on the screen, but to contradict it. JCC 2 (3) pp. 197-210 © Intellect Ltd 2008

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Keywords Wong Kar-wai Gilles Deleuze

film sound ffim music pre-existing music

1. Memories of Sound and Light is the title of an unofficial Wong songbook released by Universal in 2004 containing some of the most memorable songs in his films.

2.

'Only the use of sound as counterpoint regarding the image offers new possibilities of developing and perfecting the montage' (Eisenstein 1976: 20). All the English translations in this paper are the author's.

Sergei Eisenstein and the Soviet formalists defended the counterpoint as a way of emancipating the musical score from its dependence on the visual elements of the film, 2 an idea that was also contemplated by Theodor Adorno and Hanns Eisler in their well-known critique Composing for the Films (Eisler and Adorno 1971). The classical mode of film score is based entirely on functionality, music's function being not only to reinforce the mood of a film or a particular scene, but also to ease the spectator's path into the narrative experience: 'Film music lessens awareness of the frame, of discontinuity; it draws the spectator further into the diegetic illusion' (Gorbman 1987: 59). Claudia Gorbman compares this type of film music to 'easy-listening' music, the kind one would hear in department stores, elevators and doctors' offices. Both are made to be consumed but not to be closely listened to; both are subordinated to a larger context (film or convenience store) and, most importantly, both use familiar musical qualities to 'lull' the spectator (or consumer) into a relaxed and passive mood. This is not to underestimate the purely musical qualities of the film score, but only to further reassert its place as secondary to the narrative. While Wong's use of music frequently follows the classical mode of reinforcement - as an example we can mention Teddy Kwan's score for As Tears Go By (1988), in which fast-paced music is employed to create a sensation of excitement and anticipation, thus emphasizing the accelerated movement of the action scenes - I would like to point out that it also transcends its functional status. In this essay, I will argue that music in Wong's films is often used to disrupt the linearity of the image, creating a new sense of temporality. In such cases music is not dependent upon the image but, on the contrary, subjects it to its own rhythm, providing what Gilles Deleuze (1985: 10) called 'pure optical and sonorous situations', where time is not represented indirectly through the succession of movementimages, but presented directly through the time-image. I would also like to focus on Wong's abundant use of popular music, especially pre-existing songs with lyrics, which demands a different interpretation from that of the traditional instrumental score. Whether they come from the diegetic or non-diegetic field, these songs evoke questions about character formation, the relationship between lyrics and image and, perhaps more importantly, cultural references with which the spectator may have a prior relationship. As happens with certain elements of decor, costumes and dialogues, film music is often employed to give important cultural clues that refer to the film's historicity, ethnicity and genre. The music employed in Wong's films comes from different times, styles and parts of the world, reflecting a large array of cultural codes that makes it difficult to pinpoint. This attitude, as I shall argue, is indicative of Wong's complex relationship with genre cinema and the cultural codes that it entails. Rhythm, repetition and time: the case of'Yumeji's Theme' When it comes to analysing a film score, there are some challenges to be considered: first of all, one must make a purposeful effort to notice the music, since, as Gorbman says, 'The filmgoer is not supposed to notice or be distracted by the music, its primary role being to reinforce, intensify, or clarify narrative and emotive aspects of the story' (Gorbman 2006: 6). We 198

Ludmila Moreira Macedo de Carvalho

may notice a film score when it's a particularly bad one; for example, when an overly sentimental score ends up calling attention tci the film's manipulative strategies, or when the use of a well-known pre-existing song reminds us of a familiar sound, a technique that, albeit not exclusive of contemporary cinema, is being used ever more frequently since the 1950s and 1960s (Knight and Wojcik 2001: 05). Otherwise, we might become so invested in the narrative world that we wouldn't become fully aware of the music unless we consciously choose to do so. Secondly, it is difficult to verbalize the experience of musical pleasure in general, and in particular in relation to the filmic image, since it engenders different sensorial responses. Most aesthetic theories explain the phenomenon of musical pleasure through the concept of 'aesthetic experience', that is, a subjective experience firmly rooted in the senses. Purely musical qualities such as rhythm, harmony and melodic movement stimulate sensual responses that are different from those raised by the image. Michel Chion explains that music is bi-sensorial, 'a sonorous figure in the ears, and a vibration felt in the skin and the bones', while 'the luminous impact of an image is punctually localised in the field of vision. Well, that which is bi-sensorial, that which touches two senses at the same time, has bigger efficacy and immediate impact' (Chion 1995: 221). Gorbman also claims that 'music enters to satisfy a need to compensate for, fill in, the emotional depth not verbally representable' (Gorbman 1987: 67), that is, music may help the spectator feel the mood of a scene more than images and dialogues sometimes can, since its emotional connection remains deeply subjective. That would explain why, in more 'objective' or non-sentimental scenes, music can often be neglected or simply forgotten without being missed. On the opposite scale, it would also explain why film-makers such as Eric Rohmer (My Night at Maud's, 1969) and Michelangelo Antonioni (Eclipse, 1962) use music very sparingly to avoid an unwanted overexaggeration of the emotional tone of their films. Finally, it is also difficult for someone who is not a professional musician to appropriately identify all the musical elements in play, especially since one cannot 'pause' the music and the image at the same time to observe how they work together. The best way to go about this, I feel, is through a detailed description of the music and the images provided by repetitive viewing (and listening), silence and comparison (analysis of the same sequence without music or with other music in its place). Having said that, I will now consider the love theme that accompanies the encounters between characters Chow Mo-Wan (Tony Leung) and Su Li-Zhen (Maggie Cheung) in In The Mood for Love. Composed by Shigeru Umebayashi, this theme provides an atmosphere of melancholy that is most important for the emotional tone of the film. Derived from an existing score (for Suzuki Seijun's 1991 film Yumeji), 'Yumeji's Theme' embodies the indetermination of the lovers as they repeatedly approach and retreat from each other. The music appears a total of eight times throughout the film: first when the characters meet; twice when they go to the noodle stall; twice when they are together in the hotel room; twice when they are isolated but thinking about each other; and one last time when they decide to go their separate ways. Memories of sound and light: musical discourse in the films of Wong Kar-wai

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3.

For example, notice Frank Skinner's use of a full orchestra in his scores for two of Douglas Sirk's most well-known melodramas, All that Heaven Allows (1955) and Imitation of Life (1959).

The motif is a sentimental waltz executed by violins and an orchestra. Unlike a traditional 'full orchestra' interpretation of a typical Hollywood melodrama, 3 this theme is not grandiloquent or robust: the orchestra acts merely as background accompaniment for the violins. The violins have a grave tone to them, rendering the sound soft and velvety, which, along with the piece's mellow rhythm, creates a very intimate and languorous sound, albeit still sentimental. In fact, the first verse of the music is so slow that the scene must have a certain duration in order to fully embody it, thus subverting the classical rule according to which the duration of a piece of music must be subordinated to the duration of the scene (Gorbman 1987: 76). In this case, the music is radically different from the 'elastic' tune traditionally composed for film scores in small malleable pieces that can be easily cut or extended to suit a particular scene. It is important to notice that in every appearance of this motif the image is in slow motion, which, along with the slowness of the music itself, provides a sense that everybody and everything - even the smoke from a cigarette - is languorously moving to the rhythm of the music, even though this music is clearly non-diegetic. Let us examine the first scene, when both characters go, each on his/her own time, to the noodle stall. The camera captures Su Li-Zhen as she slowly descends the stairs and remains stationary until she returns. Then, Chow Mo-Wan does the exact same movement: descending and ascending the stairs. Although the characters share the same limited space, at this point they don't exchange a single look. All of the emotional tension between them is provided by the music and the slow motion of their bodies as they pass by each other. A silent viewing of this scene confirms that, without the sentimentality of the music, there is little to no expression in this scene, since the actors' faces remain mostly unseen and the slow motion by itself renders merely an odd sense of movement. Finally, we have to consider the role of repetition, not only of the music's manifestation in the film but also of the music's own rhythm. Repetition is not an uncommon technique in film music - in fact, it is often used to identify characters and provide formal and narrative unity through the use of themes. A theme is defined as any music - melody, melody-fragment, or distinctive harmonic progression - heard more than once during the course of a film' (Gorbman 1987: 27). One clear example of a theme song is that composed by Umebayashi for 2046 (Wong, 2004), which symbolizes the whole identity of the film. '2046 Main Theme' contains, simultaneously, a violin that refers to the romantic journey of the main character and some jazzy beats reminiscent of the score composed by Vangelis for the archetypal science fiction Blade Runner (Ridley Scott, 1982). This way, the repetition of the theme song functions as an illustration of the film's overall mood, even if it means congregating different narrative elements inside a single harmonic piece. The obsessively repetitive pattern of 'Yumeji's Theme', however, creates a sonorous disruption that, in turn, disrupts the temporality of the action. According to Deleuze, it is the representation of time that differentiates the movement-image from the time-image, or classical cinema from modern cinema. In the classical system of the movement-image, the action is dominated by a sensory-motor organization of movement, that is, a causal

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motivation that links one action to the next. Time is represented in the movement-action only indirectly, that is, through the linear chain of narrated events. The time-image, on the other hand, is an image that has become free from the classical narrative realism, and represents time directly through the depiction of pure optical and sonorous situations. A pure optical and sonorous situation doesn't prolong itself into action anymore, since it is no longer induced by an action' (Deleuze 1985: 29). The use of 'Yumeji's Theme' in In The Mood for Love represents an example of a pure optical and sonorous situation, since music is used to disturb the linear flux of time, to break the logical chain of events of the movement-image, creating 'time inside time - or time in brackets' (Chion 1995: 212). In order to fully comprehend how this happens, we must first observe how film music can influence our perception of cinematic time. Sound phenomena are more linear in time than images, for they are perceived in a horizontal and non-reversible vector from beginning to end (Chion 1994: 35). If a sequence of successive images can already imply a certain degree of temporal linearity, the sensation of temporal progression can be therefore completed with the addition of a linear sound. For example, two parallel scenes taking place in different locations are easily presumed to be simultaneous if there is one harmonious sound connecting them. In music, this experience is further enhanced by the notion of rhythm. By definition, rhythm is a uniform progression in time, a constantly repeated pattern of sounds, but one in which continuity is only perceived as such through discontinuities (Mitry 1997: 107). If a sound pattern is repeated indefinitely, we eventually stop noticing it. Novelty is then necessary - a minor change in harmony and progression - to assure that the rhythm maintains its flow. Again, if a film sequence has its own internal rhythm - which can be dictated by the movement of objects and people inside the scene, the movement of the camera or the succession of images - the addition of musical rhythm can build up expectation for the next moment. Not only musical tempo and the punctual pace of events, but also the tonal and formal system where this music is inscribed contribute to a certain temporalization,especially by certain phenomena such as melodic pace, harmony and range: a piece of music written in a tonal style and inside a determined framework gives way to anticipation about the moment when it is going to end or pause, and this anticipation is incorporated into our perception of the image. (Chion 1995: 208, added emphasis) The rhythm of 'Yumeji's Theme' is extremely repetitive. There's no crescendo, there are almost no perceptible changes in the progression of a rather obsessive piece of music. This repetition is only accentuated by the fact that the characters are frequently performing the same actions and going to the same places. 4 Because of this, the action is not propelled forward by the sound but, instead, it creates a circular motion, since it keeps returning to the same point over and over again, providing a sense of stationary time, of immobile movement. There is no proper action in such Memories of sound and light: musical discourse in the films of Wong Kar-wal

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4.

It is useful to mention that a different version of the same motif appears in Wong's latest film, My Blueberry Nights (2007), showing that repetition and intertextuality go hand in hand in his films.

5. Traditional Beijing and Cantonese operas are present in In the Moodfor Love with excerpts from Si Long Tan Mu and Sang Yuan Ji Zi, performed by Tan Xin Pei, and Hong Niang Hui Zhang Sheng, performed by Zheng Jun Mian and Li Hang. Western opera ('Casta Diva', from Norma) and a pre-existing film score is also present in 2046, with 'Julien et Barbara', originally from the soundtrack of Fran4ois Truffaut's Vivement Dimanche (1983).

scenes, only pure duration. The overall sensation that emerges from this is that the characters are somehow trapped inside this time in brackets, this time that is of a subjective nature rather than a linear succession of moments. It is important to notice that this strategy is not exclusive to In The Mood for Love but exemplary of many of Wong's films. As we shall see further on, it can be achieved even with the use of a popular song, as is the case of Chungking Express with the repetition of 'California Dreaming'. In this case, since the song is heard diegetically, it is not only the rhythm of the music that is repetitive (for the chorus in a pop song demands repetition), but also the synchronous action that accompanies it.

Emotional connections: diegetic music and character composition

At this point, it is important to distinguish between diegetic music - that is, music that emanates from the visible space of the action - and non-diegetic music, or, as Chion calls it, 'acousmatique' (Chion 1999: 18) music whose source is not visible. This distinction of the music's place of origin is important because it can change our perception of the music and therefore its relation to the image. Non-diegetic or acousmatique music 'is the one that the spectator attributes, by elimination, to an imaginary orchestra pit or live musician that accompanies or illustrates the action and dialogues without being a part of them' (Chion 1995: 189). Different, for example, from a noise or a voice off-screen, the source of which is not yet visible but remains as a part of the action, the non-diegetic music comes from the 'absolute offscreen' (Deleuze 1985: 306), that imaginary place of the narrator. In Wong's case it corresponds mostly to the instrumental scores produced for his films by composers such as Frankie Chan (Ashes of Time [1994], Chungking Express, Fallen Angels [1995]), Danny Chung (Happy Together), Michael Galasso (In The Mood For Love), Umebayashi (In The Mood for Love, 2046) and Peer Raben (the episode The Hand in the portmanteau film Eros [Wong, Antonioni, Soderbergh, 2004]). By instrumental score I'm referring not only to original material composed by these musicians especially for the films, but also to re-orchestration of pre-existing classical films._ music, Chinese opera and scores from other Diegetic music, on the other hand, comes from within the visualized world of the film, in scenes where the characters listen to music, sing or dance. In Days of Being Wild (Wong, 1990), Carina Lau's character is a performer, and Leslie Cheung's character dances to the rhythm of a chacha song ('Maria Elena'). jukeboxes are prominently shown in Fallen Angels. In Happy Together,the main characters dance the tango, and music also comes from radios, record players and club bands in 2046 and In the Moodfor Love. According to Gorbman, it is an error to assume that diegetic is more realistic than non-diegetic music, because 'The mood of any music in the soundtrack, be it diegetic or non-diegetic music, will be felt in association with diegetic events' (Gorbman 1987: 23). Moreover, the line between the two is often being blurred, in scenes where diegetic music exits the visual space of the action but continues to be heard nondiegetically, or when a non-diegetic music suddenly becomes diegetic with the appearance of a radio or a band in the background.

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It is true, nevertheless, that diegetic music tends to be more intimately connected to the characters. Since it emanates directly from the scene, this kind of music represents more of the characters' subjective experiences than a commentary made by the narrator. 'What music translates more finely and richly, without any other element being able to replace it in this function, is the ever-changing flux of emotions experienced by a character' (Chion 1995: 225). In one of the first articles to contemplate the use of music in Wong's films, David Martinez states that his sound score 'does not serve to illustrate a real and precise context, but, rather, to convene a universe that is purely referential, interior even' (Martinez 1997: 30). In many of Wong's films, we almost feel that the narrative stops so that characters may express themselves through music or dance. Let us go back now to the use of 'California Dreaming' in Chungking Express, where the constant repetition of this song creates a leitmotif for Faye Wong's character. By definition, a leitmotif is a theme employed specifically to create identification between the music and a singular character, situation or place. It is very efficient and economic: once this identification is established, all it takes is the sound to immediately transport the spectator to that specific context.6 For example, every time we hear 'California Dreaming' in the film (a total of eight times), her character is in a scene listening and dancing to it, so repeatedly that it has become difficult to listen to this song, in any context, without associating it with her image. The song appears for the first time in the second part of the film, when the policeman played by Tony Leung is introduced to May (Faye Wong). In this scene, the music is so loud that it even obstructs the dialogue, breaking yet another rule of the traditional film score, according to which music should be secondary to any narrative source. From this moment on the song becomes a signifier for 'May', so much so that, when the policeman finally realizes that she has romantic feelings for him, he plays the CD that she left in his apartment with the song, instead of 'What a Difference a Day Makes', which was a signifier for his old girlfriend. In the end, May actually goes to the 'real' California to see for herself if it was anything like she imagined from listening to the song. As happens with the use of 'Yumeji's Theme' in In The Mood For Love, 'California Dreaming' is repeated in Chungking Express to the point where it disrupts the film's representation of linear time, creating a rather circular motion. The difference in this case is that 'California Dreaming' is diegetically justified, since it is May herself who chooses to listen to it repeatedly, and consequently it becomes more integrated with the narrative. Chungking Express is all about time displacements and the malleable experience that comes with it: characters are always checking for expiration dates, alarm clocks, deadlines and future promises, all the while trapped in a present full of repetitive and mundane actions. The characters' experience of time in this film is expressed to the extent that it can be almost seized visually, as in the well-known scenes with two different image velocities (that of the character and that of the world around him). What the analysis shows us is that this experience is no more visual than sonorous, since it is as much materialized by the use of music as by visual techniques. Memories of sound and light: musical discourse in the films of Wong Kar-wai

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6.

The remix of Massive Attack's song 'Karma Koma' in Fallen Angels is another example, since it can be heard virtually every time the assassin makes an appearance in the film, showing a rather current trend of using popular pre-existing music as leitmotif (Rodman 2006:119).

At this point it is important to notice that a song with lyrics, unlike the classical instrumental score, is never neutral: whether or not it was composed exclusively for the film, it is there to be noticed by the spectator, since it coordinates essential elements such as human voice, language and speech. Chion speaks of vococentrism to state the importance of the human voice in relation to other sounds: 'In actual movies, for real spectators, there are not all the sounds including the human voice. There are voices, and then everything else' (Chion 1999: 5). That is, from the moment we recognize the human voice - whether it is in a dialogue or in a song - it becomes the central point around which other sounds are organized. In the sonorous environments created for and by the characters with diegetic music, pre-existing popular songs have a special place. Each Wong Kar-wai film has one or more pre-existing songs featured in the soundtrack, such as 'Take My Breath Away' in As Tears Go By, Frank Zappa's 'Chunga Revenge' and 'I Have Been in You' in Happy Together, 'California Dreaming' and 'What a Difference a Day Makes' in Chungking Express, Cole's renditions of Aquellos Ojos Verdes', 'Te Quiero Dijiste' and 'Quizdis, Quizds, Quizds' in In the Mood for Love and Connie Francis' version of 'Siboney' in 2046. There are also Cantonese versions of The Cranberries' 'Dreams' in Chungking Express, of Berlin's 'Take My Breath Away' in As Tears Go By, and of The Turtles' 'Happy Together' in Happy Together. Wong's newest film, My Blueberry Nights, released in 2007, Is scored entirely by a compilation of songs by Ry Cooder, Cat Power and many other popular artists. The use of popular music has been a part of cinema since the beginning of sound accompaniment, and from the 1960s the use of songs especially jazz and rock and roll - became a major way to score films. 'The end of the 1950s and 1960s saw a triumph of the melody, a melody that was no longer carefully closed in a motif.... but one that gives itself to be discovered and that does everything to be heard and memorized' (Chion 1995: 139). It is also important to consider that pre-existing songs carry their own language, expression and history to the film, and spectators who were already familiar with these songs (or the artists that perform them) can, and most probably will, relate differently to the film. There are, of course, economical reasons behind the use of a preexisting song, since these songs and their performers may attract a larger audience and boost profit with soundtrack CD sales. Many of the actors that work in Wong's films are pop stars in China and elsewhere (Carina Lau, Leslie Cheung, Faye Wong, Tony Leung, Andy Lau, Norah Jones), and often perform their own songs on the films' soundtracks. Before the appearance of the music video, cinema had always been a medium for the diffusion of music and celebrities, and Wong takes advantage of this practice neither by refusing nor blindly accepting it, but by largely incorporating it into his own style. In this way, it is not surprising that Wong's films are often associated with the style of music videos, not only by the frequent use of pop stars and songs, but also by the appropriation of a certain stylistic imagery pertaining to the music video industry Even though music videos are becoming more and more heterogeneous both in style and content, there is still a 204


consensus around some of the characteristics evoked by the term 'MTV aesthetics', such as fast rhythm of montage, numerous and brief shots, saturated images, 'camera movements induced by the sheer pleasure of virtuosity, of visual effect and performance' (Vernier 1986: 134). Ultimately, what the 'music video aesthetics' promotes is a new interpretation of the crisis of the movement-image. According to Deleuze (1983: 281), there are two main tendencies provoked by this crisis: rarefaction, exemplified by fldnerie films, where characters drift aimlessly through the space and where dead times abound; and saturation, where, on the contrary, things happen so fast that they almost can't be grasped all at once. The music video is an example of saturation, with its technique of showing everything at the same time, like a feature-length preview made only of the most pregnant moments. The music video creates, according to Jean-Marc Vernier, a 'pulsation-image, located on the edges of the movement-image in cinema. The disappearance of dead time, of a relaxed mise-en-scýne, resolves itself in the exacerbation of the image. One word: fast' (Vernier 1986: 132). The saturation in some of Wong's films, the sheer sense of rhythm that emanates from this kind of music/image association, where it is the music that dictates the pace of the action, is an indication of just how well his style translates into this new medium. And Wong is not alone in this trend, as Jean-Marc Lalanne points out: 'The articulation of a sound score full of songs and the images that simply illustrate them (and not the other way around), as seen by fdimmakers such as Lynch, Scorsese, Tarantino, originate incontestably from the music video' (Lalanne 2000: 63). Wong's association with the music video universe has gone full circle now, as he has already directed a music video 7 and influenced other artists in that medium. 8 He has even invested himself with the persona of a rock star, wearing his dark sunglasses and being surrounded by mystery, anticipation and gossip about his unorthodox film-making practices. Latin music and cultural codes According to Gorbman (1987: 13), music signifies in film on three different levels: first, there are purely musical qualities of the piece by itself; second, there are narrative musical codes, that determine emotional and cognitive suggestions according to when, where and how music is played in relation to the images; and finally there are cultural musical codes that evoke the film's genre, time or location. Film music is largely used to provide contextual information for the spectator: in the first moments of a film, whether we hear jazz beats and brass instruments or a smooth waltz accompanied by accordions, we can easily determine if we are to be 'transported' to New York city or a European turn-of-the-century setting. Wong complicates this equation by constantly shifting these codes around, inserting ambiguity where one would normally expect security and reaffirmation. Let us consider, for example, the use of Latin music, predominant in his 1960s trilogy - namely, Days of Being Wild, In The Mood for Love and 2046 - but also heard in Happy Together and even in Wong's series of commercial spots for Japanese designer Takeo Kikuchi. The range of Latin songs used in the films goes from Cuban Xavier Cugat's chacha and mambo classics from the 1940s, such as 'Perfidia', 'Siboney' and Memories of sound and light: musical discourse in the films of Wong Kar-wai

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7.

The video called Six Days (released in 2002) promotes the artist DJ Shadow and features many of Wong's stylistic trademarks, as well as the actors Chang Chen and Danielle Graham.

8. One example comes from the Scottish band Texas, who made a music video that reconstructed, shot by shot, selected scenes from Chungking Express. The video was directed by David Mould and features the song 'Halo' from Texas' album White on Blonde, released in February 1997.

9.

One such interview is provided in the special features of In The Moodfor Love's Criterion Collection DVD, released in 2000, where Wong says: 'We had a lot of western music in Hong Kong at that time, and most of the band musicians were from the Philippines, so there was a lot of Latin music.'

10. Notably, 'Hua Yang de Nian Hua', a popular song from the 1930s that was also a theme song from the 1946 melodrama Chang Xiang Si (An AllConsuming Love), and 'Bengawan Solo', a Chinese song with English lyrics recorded in the 1960s by Rebecca Pan, who also appears in the film. 11. In his study of Almod6var's films, Mark Allinson (2001) credits the film-maker for recuperating this Hispanic musical heritage and transforming it into something 'camp but cool'.

'Maria Elena' (Days of Being Wild and 2046), Argentinean Astor Piazolla's 'Tango Apasionado' (Happy Together), Brazilian Caetano Veloso's 'Cucurrucucu Paloma' (Happy Together), to Hollywood's filter, with Cole's Spanish renditions of classic boleros in In The Mood for Love. But what do these songs represent, besides a great knowledge and interest from Wong on the topic of Latin music? Regarding the 1960s period, Wong has said in many interviews that Latin songs were actually popular at that time in Hong Kong.9 Although they might represent accurately what local people listened to in a specific historical context, for someone that comes from elsewhere - especially from Latin America - this particular choice of music appears to be much 10 more exotic than the 'period' Chinese songs also used in the same film. If we took away the music from In The Mood for Love and asked a spectator who wasn't familiar with the film to guess what was playing in the sound score, Cole's boleros would probably not be their first choice, for a number of reasons. First of all, because if we follow the culturally coded definition of filmgenre music, these songs would carry the meaning 'Latin America' rather than 'Hong Kong', as they evoke a certain notion of community and cultural identity that is different to that of the Chinese characters represented in the film. My understanding of a community's cultural identity passes through Benedict Anderson's concept of imagined communities, in which communities are cultural artifacts, in other words, productions 'distinguished, not by their falsity/genuineness, but by the style in which they are imagined' (Anderson 1991: 06). I also draw from Fredric Jameson's concept of postmodern historicity, in which the recreation of a particular historical context does not depend (or, never did depend) on authentic representation but, instead, on a stylistic approach to the past: 'It being understood that the nostalgia film was never a matter of some old-fashioned "representation" of historical content, but instead approached the "past" through stylistic connotation, conveying "pastness" by the glossy qualities of the image' (Jameson 1991: 19). In the case of Latin music, the style of the songs, the rhythm, the lyrics, the language in which they are sung all evoke an explicit communication of feelings that is immediately identified with Latin melodrama and sentimentality. The bolero, the rumba and the ranchera are styles in which sentimentality is taken to extremes; intimacy is created through highly dramatic lyrics and performances based on exaggerated gestures and voice. These musical styles, extremely popular in Latin America in the 1940s and 1950s, experienced a renaissance through the camp movement from the 1990s on, which means that they were recuperated by artists and film-makers such as Pedro Almod6var, who re-transformed them from something clich6d and outdated into something new and popular." But, contrary to Almod6var's use of bolero to highlight the melodramatic sensibility of his own films, Wong uses it in contrast with his dialogues and characters' subdued behavior. This is most noticeable in the use of sentimental boleros in In the Mood for Love. Because the characters of this film tend to speak so infrequently, these songs become very noticeable, often occupying both the material and the semantic functions of

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the speech (not only do we notice the songs but we listen to what they say). Indeed, it appears as though all the indecision and tension between the would-be lovers is expressed in the explicitly sentimental chorus of 'Quiz;ks, Quiz4s, Quizds': 'Y asi pasan los diaslY yo, desesperadolY t6, t6 contestando/Quizds, quizds, quizds.'12 The song functions almost like an ironic commentary, as if it was saying something about them as well as to them, especially if we take into consideration the fact that the whole film could be summarized by the idea of 'perhaps': perhaps they were lovers? Perhaps they wanted to go away together? The way that the song is performed - in a different language than that of the dialogues, evoking all the dramatic elements of Latin melodrama, and in a rhythm that recalls the sensual movement of ballroom dance - accentuates this contrasting effect. Being a musical genre based on the overt expression of romantic feelings, the bolero adds the melodramatic note to an otherwise subtle and subdued love story; sound thus extrapolating both cultural and narrative boundaries. Nevertheless, while one might be tempted to say that Wong makes no use of traditional or 'characteristic' pieces of music that, in other cases, might have been used to localize the story in a specific historical period, cultural origin or cinematic genre, this is not entirely true. For example, in Happy Together, Piazzola's interpretations of traditional tango are used as a symbol of Argentina and Argentinean culture. But even in this case the use of 'ethnic' music is ambiguous, since the tango is as alien to his Chinese protagonists as any other cultural symbol for Argentina. Before we can begin to question the validity of such a cultural metonym, Wong surpasses its restrictions by closely integrating it to the story and the characters' representations. Most of the time the tango is heard diegetically, thus falling into the category according to which it is more related to the characters and the diegetic action than the imaginary narrator. In the end, the tango (as music and dance) is used less as a musical metonym than as a sonorous metaphor for the struggles between the two lovers. And, in this case, there is also the surprising use of Zappa's rock songs (not an obvious choice), which work as a contrast for the more culturally coded tango. This pattern is indicative of Wong's dialectical relationship with genre cinema, as he is constantly raising certain traditional elements of wellknown cinematic genres only to re-work and recreate them in an unexpected fashion. By introducing familiar elements (music being one of the most easily recognizable of them) he raises the spectator's horizon of expectation only to deconstruct it soon afterward. just to give another example, the score composed by Chan for his martial arts film Ashes of Time is 'inspired by Ennio Morricone's compositions for the spaghetti western, instead of the usual traditional Chinese score, supposedly to give it the "local flavor"' (Martinez 1997: 30). As a result of these remarks, it would not be entirely appropriate to say that Wong refuses the use of culturally or historically coded music, or music that caters to the so-called local flavor, but it would be best to say that he uses this kind of music to create his own system of cultural references, one that is global rather than local. Musical selections such as these represent different cultural influences that, juxtaposed, demonstrate the Memories of sound and light: musical discourse in the films of Wong Kar-wal

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12. And so the days go by/I, desperate/And you, you only say/

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps'.

degree of heterogeneity of the references affecting the films, to the point where they defy simple cultural labels. Therefore, even though the use of Latin American songs might be historically authentic in a film like In The Mood for Love or Days of Being Wild, it does not represent the clich6 or the cultural code normally related to it but, rather, it represents Wong's own creative vision of 'past-ness' as a stylistic creation. As these well-known songs signify different things for different cultures, Wong is actively establishing relations that surpass national, cultural and generic borders.

Conclusion So far, I have argued that the music in Wong's films has much more important functions than to simply 'accompany' or 'illustrate' what is being represented on the screen. Traditionally, film music is employed to aid our immersion into the diegetic illusion by suggesting an emotional atmosphere. Narratively, it bonds shot to shot, creates point of view and builds character's identities. Culturally, it provides information to the spectator and helps establish historical, ethnic and geographical settings. Wong's use of film music seems to be situated in the middle of the duality between the classical mode of film accompaniment and a modern approach where music is no longer subjected to the image. While his use of instrumental non-diegetic music might be considered classical, it is also used to disrupt narrative progression and provide a different sense of temporality. While his use of popular songs might be considered commercial, it is also used to create an atmosphere of saturation where it is the music that sets the pace. And while his use of Latin music might be considered ethnically determined, it is also used to challenge and subvert our expectations of cinematic genres. What should have become evident at this point is that these characteristics are not mutually exclusive, since the musical discourse in Wong's films can be at once modern and classical, commercial and experimental; after all, it creates both movement-images and time-images. In fact, these dualities are only so in appearance, for actually they coexist in a structure where one does not signify without the other. Works cited Abel, R. and Altman, R. (2001), The Sounds of Early Cinema, Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Allinson, M. (2001), A Spanish Labyrinth: The Films of Pedro Almod6var, London: Tauris. Anderson, B. R. 0. G. (1991), Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism, London, New York: Verso. Chion, M. (1994), Audio-vision: Sound on Screen, New York: Columbia University Press. (1995), La musique au cingma, Paris: Fayard. (1999), The Voice in Cinema, New York: Columbia University Press. Deleuze, G. (1983), L'image-mouvement: cin6ma 1, Paris: Les M•ditions de Minuit. (1985), L'image-temps: cinima 2, Paris: Les Editions de Minuit. Eisenstein, S. (1976), Lefilm: saforme, son sens, Paris: C. Bourgeois. Eisler, H. and Adorno, T. W. (1971), Composing for the Films, Freeport, N.Y.: Books for Libraries Press.

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Gorbman, C. (1987), Unheard Melodies: Narrative Film Music, London, Bloomington: BFI Pub., Indiana University Press. (2006) 'Ears Wide Open: Kubrick's Music', in P. Powrie and R. J. Stilwell (eds), Changing Tunes: The Use of Pre-existing Music in Film, Aldershot, Burlington: Ashgate, pp. 3-18. Jameson, F. (1991), Postmodernism, or,The CulturalLogic of Late Capitalism,Durham: Duke University Press. Knight, A. and Wojcik, P. R. (2001), 'Overture', in A. Knight and P. R. Wojcik (eds), Soundtrack Available: Essays on Film and Popular Music, Durham, London: Duke University Press, pp. 1-15. Lalanne, J.-M. (2000), 'Changements A vue - Vingt ans de cin6ma et de clips', Cahiersdu Cingma: Aux Frontieresdu Cinima (hors-sdrie), pp. 62-63. Martinez, D. (1997), 'Chasing the Metaphysical Express', in J.-M. Lalanne (ed.), Wong Kar-wai, Paris: Dis-Voir, pp. 29-38. Mitry, J. (1997), The Aesthetics and Psychology of the Cinema, Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Rodman, R. (2006), 'The Popular Song as Leitmotif in 1990s Film', in P. Powrie and R. J. Stilwell (eds), Changing Tunes: the Use of Pre-existing Music in Film, Aldershot, Burlington: Ashgate, pp. 119-136. Vernier, J.M. (1986), 'L'Image Pulsation', Revue D'Estitique,n.10, pp. 129-134. Films and music videos cited 2046 (2004), Film. Directed by WONG Kar-wai. Hong Kong, China, France: Block 2 Pictures. All that Heaven Allows (1955), Film. Directed by Douglas SIRK. USA: Universal Pictures. An All-Consuming Love (Chang Xiang Si, 1946), Film. Directed by HE Zhaozhang. Hong Kong: Huaxing Film Co. Ashes of Time (Dung che sai duk, 1994), Film. Directed by WONG Kar-wai. Hong Kong, China, Taiwan: Scholar Productions. As Tears Go By (Wong gok ka moon, 1988), Film. Directed by WONG Kar-wai. Hong Kong. Blade Runner (1982), Film. Directed by Ridley SCOTT. EUA: Warner Brothers. Chungking Express (Chongqing senlin, 1994), Film. Directed by WONG Kar-wai. Hong Kong: jet Tone Production. Days of Being Wild (A Fei jing juen, 1990), Film. Directed by WONG Kar-wai. Hong Kong: In-Gear Films. Eclipse (L'Eclisse, 1962), Film. Directed by Michelangelo ANTONIONI. Italy: Cineriz. Eros (2004), Film. Directed by WONG Kar-wai, Michelangelo ANTONIONI, Steven SODERBERGH. USA, Italy, Hong Kong: Roissy Films. Fallen Angels (Duo luo tian shi, 1995), Film. Directed by WONG Kar-wai. Hong Kong: Jet Tone Production. Halo (1997), Music Video. Directed by David MOULD. Happy Together (Cheun gwong tsa sit, 1997), Film. Directed by WONG Kar-wal. Hong Kong: Block 2 Pictures. Imitation of Life (1959), Film. Directed by Douglas SIRK. EUA: Universal Pictures. In the Mood for Love (Hua yang nian hua, 2000), Film. Directed by WONG Kar-wai. Hong Kong, France: Block 2 Pictures.

Memories of sound and light: musical discourse in the films of Wong Kar-wai

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My Night At Maud's (Ma nuit chez Maud, 1969), Film. Directed by Eric ROHMER. France: FFD. Six Days (2002), Music Video. Directed by WONG Kar-wai. Yumeji (1991), Film. Directed by SUZUKI Seijun. Japan: Genjiro Amato Pictures. Suggested citation de Carvalho, L. M. M. (2008), 'Memories of sound and light: musical discourse in the films of Wong Kar-wai',Journal of Chinese Cinemas 2: 3, pp. 197-210, doi: 10.1386/jcc.2.3.197/1

Contributor details Ludmila Moreira Macedo de Carvalho has a Masters Degree in Communication and Contemporary Cultures from the Federal University of Bahia, Brazil. She is currently a Ph.D. candidate at the University of Montreal, Canada, where she is developing her thesis on Wong's cinema, thanks to a grant from the CAPES Foundation from Brazil. Contact: University of Montreal, Comparative Literature Department, Pavillon Lionel-Groulx, 3150 jean-Brillant, Montreal, QC, H3T 1N8, Canada. E-mail: [email protected]

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TITLE: Memories of sound and light: musical discourse in the films of Wong Kar-wai SOURCE: J Chin Cinemas 2 no3 2008 The magazine publisher is the copyright holder of this article and it is reproduced with permission. Further reproduction of this article in violation of the copyright is prohibited. To contact the publisher: http://www.intellectbooks.co.uk/journals.php?issn=17508061

Musical Discourse in the Films of Wong Kar Wai

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