2046

In 2046 (2004), Wong Kar Wai most illustrates his growth as a filmmaker, as he returns to the main protagonist of In the Mood for Love, Chow Mo Wan, and examines the discursive ways in which Chow is still haunted by both the betrayal of his wife and his inability to disassociate himself from the repercussions of his desired affair with Su Li-Zhen. While Chow works to free himself from the delayed emotion and residue left by the loss of his wife and Su Li-Zhen vis-à-vis fictional reenactments, 2046 explores the recursive nature of Chow’s dysfunction so that the substitution of these traumas lead Chow to his pathological narcissism. Thus, Wong’s 2046 details the hyper-attachment that Chow finds in his memories of Su Li-Zhen, over-investing himself in the fantasies of testimony since he cannot find peace in his acts of testimony. As a writer, Chow tries to write himself out of his over-investment through fiction, but each attempt in fact further delineates his imprisonment into melancholy. Consequently, Chow’s writing exists as an obsessional impulse, one that recursively feeds itself, becoming a narcissistic addiction that centers Chow even as it deprives him of emotion.

By camouflaging the pain, he reveals his pathological mania, in that he internalizes that which is forgotten, and is unable to comprehend the deeper workings of his unconscious memory. Thus, these cannibalistic acts on Su Li-Zhen’s memory merely repeat Chow’s traumatic experience, denying him recovery. His memories are embedded in science fiction narratives, with his alter ego unable to elicit passion from the mechanical and emotionless robots, all of whom—while modeled on various women he has romanced—embody his concept of Su Li-Zhen as unresponsive and indifferent. Yet Chow is not cognizant of the purpose behind this impulse, preferring to situate such fantasies as ways in which his writing can be marketed rather than understanding them as potential outlets of mourning. Because of this misconception, he becomes imprisoned in the deadlocked grip of melancholy.

This narcissistic ease in his own mythomania thus serves as his refuge, for he does not possess the resiliency to move outside his imaginary identification. Rather, he continues to act out his obsessional impulse in fiction, treasuring the fact that he can turn to fantasies to realize his ideal vision. Chow’s fiction, then, becomes his symbolic mirror, without which he has no reference to code his life or gain closure. Yet this act itself denies working through. As psychologist Judith Herman notes, the patient needs “integration, not exorcism.” When Chow returns to his object-loss in fiction, he aims to extricate its pain from his being, rather than integrate himself with it. As such, the release found in his stories never actually becomes a release, but instead merely quells the pain until a future experience calls back the earlier loss. Through this circular interplay, Chow’s fiction becomes its own imprisonment.

In the Mood for Love and 2046 embody Wong Kar Wai’s films about the 1960s, examining the over-investment of memory that clouds and envelops his characters, leaving them with only a residue of their former lives. With 2046, however, Wong’s oeuvre seems to have reached the end of its first stage. Wong has, at least for the time being, turned to fashioning his next several films in America. While his cinematic preoccupations may not face a fundamental change with the turn to filmmaking under the Hollywood system, it is obvious that Wong has reached the logical conclusion of his preoccupation with time and traumatic memory in these Hong Kong films. His characters in these films about the 1960’s are inextricably tied to their obsessional impulses, fabricating reconciliation rather than honestly and truly working to achieve emotional recovery. Chained to their internal captivity, Wong’s characters expose the fatalistic surrender of never working through traumatic experience.

2046: 10/10