Fallen Angels

In the haunting Neo-Noir drama, Fallen Angels, Director Wong Kar-wai paints a poignant and starkly intimate portrait of a hitman's desperate bid to extract himself from a world of violence. The film follows Chun (Leung Chun-wai), a ruthless and calculating assassin, as he navigates the blurred lines between loyalty, morality, and love. Chun lives in a cold, unforgiving world where emotions are a liability and relationships are mere pawns in the game of survival. However, beneath his stoic exterior lies a complex and vulnerable individual, struggling to reconcile his past actions with a deep-seated desire to escape the darkness of his profession. This internal conflict fueling his transformation serves as the central axis around which the narrative unfolds. Chin (Tony Leung Chiu-wai), Chun's partner in crime and a more volatile counterpart, redefines their dynamic by keeping Chun locked into a toxic cycle of violent assignments, stifling his ability to escape the profession. Chin's true intentions are layered with complexity; while driven to manipulate and dominate Chun, he inverts an obsessive, love-stained sentiment that further solidifies his motives. The fragmented narrative intertwines their lives with Sun-Earn (Michelle Reis) and He Zhi Wei (Charlie Yeung). Sun-Earn is an obsessive and vulnerable female friend on the fringes of the underworld, driven out of despair. Her chance encounter with He Zhi Wei, former Police School dropout that now goes by Li (taking up another last name, to re-brand his past) offers an alternative perspective in life where morality and connection seem out of reach. As Chun begins to introspect, the disquiet haunting him transforms into a yearning for freedom from his responsibilities as a hitman. However, this introspection raises questions: can one sever ties to their past, or is it forever embedded within their psyche? Chun's internal struggle mirrors the reality checked against the superficially glamorous and ruthless appearance that Chin portrays as an extreme example. On one hand, the film presents Chun's ordeal like an uphill battle where the entire world obstructs his escape. On the other, the struggle seems an inner challenge, reinforcing the notion that those in the shadows can only find themselves when their work offers a reprieve from their true identities. As the layers of complexity peel back, it becomes glaringly evident that Chun, the quiet assassin, cannot outsmart the unseen. Not even as long as there are those around him: Chin, who keeps him bound by obligation, or Sun-Earn, who lost herself to desperation and hopes to find a new path, now stuck in a labyrinth she is hard pressed to navigate. Chun's attempts to break free culminate in increasingly desperate acts, pushing him deep into Li's periphery – away from the underworld, leaving behind seemingly secure, familiar ground. But even Li cannot guarantee protection, bound as he is to an association seemingly at every side he now turns. Through the dynamic interplay between these characters, Wong Kar-wai reveals an urban wasteland swathed in a gray air, haunted by despair, desolation and an almost unspoken yearning for hope. Fallen Angels recounts a bleak narrative about lost individuals struggling to come to terms with the emptiness of their existence – men trapped in circumstances devoid of redemptive avenues, perpetually cursed to their dark past. What stands out most about the film, however, is its unsentimental interpretation of relationships. Wong's aesthetic presents the connections forged in this dead, monotonous world where all expectations of intimacy and the capacity to express humanity are pushed to their limits. This pervasively grim backcloth casts immense focus onto the human drama which slowly begins to come together against its monochromatic background. Ultimately, Fallen Angels unravels the fractured remnants of Chun's efforts as he quests after a glimmer of solace, seeking life amid despair. He does so fueled by love – but whether that love comes from Chin, whose true desires verge on codependency, or Sun-Earn, grasping onto fleeting human connections for relief, the ambiguity itself speaks to the cruelty of an existence shaped by expectation, loneliness, despair, or purpose-fueled violence.