Head Programmer Lee Peng Ming reviews Stanley Kwan’s Rouge (1987), the recent film of discussion at NTU Film Society, expressing why it had such a lasting impression on him.

When I first watched Stanley Kwan's Rouge (1987), I didn't really like it. I thought it was a cheap and clichéd love story: it depicts a dead woman's (Anita Mui) journey back to the mortal world to find her lover (Leslie Cheung), who did not commit suicide alongside her as promised. At the time, I had a strong aversion to this type of narrative: who could be so obsessed with love, till the point of death? Moreover, I found the storytelling technique to be quite banal: the past and the present are intertwined through flashbacks; I was convinced there were some other directors who could handle this theme or story better.

It was only several years later that the duet of Anita Mui and Leslie Cheung in Sorrow on an Autumn Trip (客途秋恨) struck me all of sudden, like a ghost; when I was traveling in the midst of a bustling city; and during the quiet, contemplative midnight hour, under the dim lighting of my desk light. The seductive and teasing glances of Fleur, the indefinable yet deeply emotional expressions of the Twelfth Master Chan watching her, would always remind me of their duet, filled with yearning, bitterness, and a deep emotional connection.

Even though many years have passed, I still do not dare to rewatch this movie as it is now etched in my heart. Fleur’s love for the Twelfth Master Chan is almost like that in a fairy tale — it is too pure, too pristine, a love that the Twelfth Master could not bear. Even with the risk of their souls being scattered in the mortal world, Fleur persisted in her search for the lover she had longed for, day and night. Even though they exist in different times and spaces, only love can transcend all boundaries, and the ghost-form is merely a vessel that enables her to travel across time and space. What drove Fleur back to the mortal world was not just resentment, but also an unbreakable, profound love. Love and hatred are intertwined; perhaps this is the most complex emotion in the mortal world, just like my feelings for this film. 

"Sorrow in the face of the full moon..." Twelfth Master sang.

"That’s too much sorrow." Fleur retorted before leaving the room.

Oh no, it’s struck me again.

In the Seventh Month of Ghosts, if you see Fleur wandering in the street, please help her find her deeply beloved Twelfth Master, and don't let her be exposed to the sun for too long. Bring her back home before sunrise.

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《涼風有信，秋月無邊》

初看关锦鹏的《胭脂扣》时，我并不太喜欢。其实《胭脂扣》讲的是一个三毛半的爱情故事：一个女的为了寻找之前一起寻死时没死着的情人而重返阳间的故事。当时，我特别不齿这种故事：哪里有人会对爱情有那么深的执念？而且讲故事的手法也平平无奇：倒叙，再顺叙，肯定有其他导演能将这种题材或故事拍得更好。

若干年后，梅艳芳张国荣两人的合唱的《客途秋恨》偶尔会冷不防地像鬼一般突然出没在脑海中：可能是在喧嚣的城市中突然想起；抑或是在夜深人静胡思乱想的那个时候突然蹦出来。如花魅惑且极具挑逗性的眼神，十二少面对如花时那难以名状却也深情的神情，总会让我一再想起两人联袂演唱的《客途秋恨》，如怨如慕，如泣如诉。

纵然数年过去，我依然不敢重看这部片子，因为这部片子早就刻在我心里。如花的爱情太纯粹、太干净，是十二少无法承受的爱。就算冒着在阳间魂飞魄散的风险，如花依然坚持寻找那个自己朝朝暮暮寻找的爱人，就算两人所处的时空已不相同，但唯有爱能穿越一切，鬼只是一个载体。驱使如花回到阳间的不只是一个简单的怨念而已，而是一种无法断绝的、深刻的爱。爱恨交织，这或许就是人世间最复杂的情感，就像我对这部电影的情感。

“愁对月亮华圆……” 十二少唱道。

“哪来那么多愁啊？” 如花面对嘲笑离开房间。

啊，完了，又来了。

七月鬼门开，看到如花记得帮她找找那个她深爱着的十二少，莫让她晒到太阳，早点带她回家。

[written and translated by PM Lee, originally posted here]