Sex and death go hand in hand in Ang Lee's erotic wartime drama, writes Michael Dwyer
In the 15 years since he made his film debut with Pushing Hands, the supremely versatile Taiwanese director Ang Lee has collected a slew of awards, most recently the Venice Film Festival's premier prize for his latest movie, Lust, Caution. It was his second time in three years to win the Golden Lion, following his success with Brokeback Mountain in 2005.
Both films are based on short stories written by women and featuring characters undermined by their sexual impulses. In Lee's Annie Proulx adaptation, the gay cowboys were driven by lust for each other and restrained by caution in a conservative era. In Lust, Caution, from a story by the late Eileen Chang, sex becomes a weapon in a murder plot.
Opening in Japanese-occupied Shanghai in 1942, Lust, Caution introduces its young protagonist, Mrs Mak (Tang Wei), as she joins affluent older women playing mah-jong, snacking on dim sum and gossiping inside a heavily guarded compound for senior government officials and their families. Out on the streets, outside their privileged milieu, food queues and fuel shortages prevail.
Extended flashbacks to 1938 reveal the truth behind Mrs Mak's sophisticated veneer. Her real name is Wong Chia Chi and, as a shy new student, she joins the university drama group founded by an idealistic fellow student, Kuang (Asian pop idol Wang Leehom) to shore up patriotism. Wong's debut performance is so powerfully emotional that it inspires the audience.
When war breaks out, Kuang asks her to take on a real-life role, as Mrs Mak, the wife of a non-existent businessman. Her mission is to seduce a Japanese collaborator, Mr Yee (Tony Leung), a notorious torturer and executioner, and set him up for assassination.
In one of the movie's rare moments of light relief, the virginal Wong undergoes a rudimentary course in intercourse with the only sexually experienced member of her drama group, who responds with extremely premature ejaculation. However, when she insinuates herself into Mr Yee's company, he expertly guides her through most of the Kama Sutra, and their vigorous couplings take on a sadomasochistic edge.
These sex scenes are vigorous and candid. Even though they occupy a small portion of a movie that runs for more than two and a half hours, they drew a restrictive rating from the Motion Picture Association of America, a body evidently far more concerned by the sexual functions of the human body than with the physical violence of such vile movies as the Saw franchise.
There is much more to Lee's intense, contemplative film of betrayal, passion and conflicted allegiances. Its sexual tension is essential to the dramatic tension, charged by paranoia and distrust, that it generates and sustains. The pacing certainly is slow at times, deliberately so under Lee's precisely measured direction.
Wang Tei is an assured and beguiling screen newcomer and Tony Leung, whose many credits include six movies directed by Wong Kar-wai and several for John Woo, is a prolific, charismatic co-star.
The drama is enhanced by its impeccable production values, in the detailed period recreation by art director and costume designer Pan Lai, in Alexandre Desplat's brooding score, and in the visual compositions achieved by its gifted Mexican cinematographer, Rodrigo Prieto, who first worked with Lee on Brokeback Mountain.
