Lover's Discourse

Derek Tsang and Jimmy Wan’s debut feature Lover’s Discourse is a somewhat cynical look at love, where it’s sometimes framed fondly, but never in a way that posits the "love conquers all" mantra that cinema has long been partial to. Maybe this is just how Hong Kong now views romance; in recent years, director Patrick Kong has made romantic negativity his bread and butter with his popular movies. However, Tsang and Wan improve upon Kong’s shoddy filmmaking, offering stylish direction to go along with an intriguing, eclectic cast and a well-observed script. The material inside may be familiar, but the package is a quality one.

Lover’s Discourse starts with seemingly disconnected stories, but as the film progresses they become increasingly intertwined. Lui (Eason Chan) and Lan (Karena Lam) star in the first segment, about casual lovers involved with other people. Long conversations and a meandering plot characterize this first segment, the actors given breathing room that allows them to skillfully inhabit roles rather than simply recite lines. Like for these would-be lovers, the value here is in the time spent and not what explicitly happens.

The second segment covers unrequited love with the tale of a laundry worker (singer Kay Tse) who fantasizes about one of her customers (Eddie Peng). She washes his clothes and daydreams about him, her fantasies taking the form of movie parodies in which Peng is represented by a lookalike mannequin. The symbolism is easy to parse: romantic dreams are ultimately easier to deal with than actual love or risk. That meaning isn’t expressed but is instead implied through Tse’s funny fantasies, her engaging performance and the final moments which imply that such ardent one-sided love is transitory.

Part 3 increases the connections among the stories with a flashback set years earlier. William Chan plays Bo, who’s enamored of his friend’s mother (singer Kit Chan), his affection understood through lingering gazes and slight body language. The attraction seems doomed, but Bo has an ace up his sleeve — the woman’s husband (Eric Tsang) is unfaithful and the young man could always let her know. More so than the others, this third segment creates smart tension through physical performance instead of plot twists or dialogue. For much of Lover’s Discourse, Tsang and Wan go for visual storytelling, developing their ideas and emotions through film language rather than their screenplay, and their choices pay off.

The fourth segment may feel more labored, but the action is buoyed by Peter Kam’s superlative score. An older Bo (now played by Jacky Heung) teams with Kei (Mavis Fan) to follow the other’s boyfriend/girlfriend, each suspecting that their own partner is being unfaithful. The two conduct their alliance through Internet chat and then shadowy chase, crossing over with characters from previous segments while Kam’s music assertively accompanies every step, suspicion and emotional discovery. This segment reveals less than previous ones do, though it does bring the characters and their journey full circle.

Lover’s Discourse isn’t a conclusive exploration of love. This is a descriptive film, using film language to offer facets of fragile and usually doomed relationships. As such, the film appears to only skim the surface of what it attempts to explore. Those looking for meatier, tougher explorations of love may find the film to be too slight, but those who enjoy a well-made and well-observed look at love in the big city may find this to be a treat. Even more, the film offers something that Hong Kong cinema fans desperately need: hope. Derek Tsang and Jimmy Wan show promise with their first feature, and that’s enough for a solid recommendation. For a pop-art Hong Kong movie, Lover’s Discourse does just fine. For a debut work, it excels.