Blogical Conclusion

SMOKE SIGNALS

AUG 2, 2008 - IT IS ENTIRELY BY CHANCE that Wong Chia Chi (Wei Tang) finds her life’s calling in Ang Lee’s Lust, Caution. She’s ambling along the corridors of her college in Hong Kong, with her friend Lai Shu Jin (Chih-ying Chu), when they’re stopped by a shout. It’s Kuang Yu Min (Lee-Hom Wang), who wants to recruit these girls for a play. “We can do Ibsen’s A Doll House,” exclaims Lai. “I know Nora’s lines like the back of my hand.” But Kuang observes that with Japan having occupied China – this is the late 1930s – nobody is in the mood to see this kind of bourgeois show. “We’re intending to stage a patriotic play,” he says, “to raise funds for the war.” He hands her a pamphlet and turns to Wong. “You should come for the audition tomorrow too.”

Wong protests that she’s only a freshman, and she’s never acted before. But Kuang is firm. “It doesn’t matter,” he says. “Everyone should play their part for the resistance movement. While the soldiers are fighting on the frontlines, the Hong Kongers are relaxing.” He makes a fist. “We need to awaken them from their complacency.” Silenced by this invocation of a bigger cause, by this glimpse of the larger picture, Wong agrees. She attends rehearsals, she learns her lines, and when the big day arrives and she’s finally in costume, Kuang stops by to reassure her, “The pre-stage jitters will disappear once the curtains open.”

They do. The show is a huge success, prompting the audience to rise to its feet with passionate echoes of Wong’s closing cry, “China cannot fall.” Discussing the events of the evening during the after-party, Lai marvels, “When we performed at Lingnan, we never had such an enthusiastic response.” And Wong explains why. “What we staged is the reality. The audience can empathise, so naturally they’re touched.” The celebration spills into the streets, with Wong joining her new friends in a rousing patriotic song. Eventually, when they board a tram to get home, Lai offers Wong a cigarette. Wong shakes her head. Lai insists, “It won’t do if performers don’t smoke.” She adds, “Try it. It’ll come in useful during acting.”

It looks like a casual instance of peer pressure – Wong takes a quick drag and blows out the smoke with a furrow of the brow, suggesting it hasn’t been a pleasant experience – but it’s really the first time Ang Lee connects prop (cigarettes) and performance. Not content with merely staging patriotic plays, Kuang decides they have to assassinate Mr. Yee (Tony Leung Chiu Wai), a high-powered lackey of the Japanese government. And to this effect, Wong’s newfound patriotism prompts her to pose as Mrs. Mak, a businessman’s wife who befriends Mrs. Yee (Joan Chen).

While showing Mrs. Yee the Hong Kong sights, Wong discovers she’s a natural actress. Mrs. Yee asks Auyang Ling Wen (Johnson Yuen) – the student who’s playing “Mr. Mak” – what line of business he’s in, and he flubs his reply. “Export trading,” he stammers, adding after an uncomfortable pause, “We also do importing.” Kuang winces – he’s also with them, playing a part – but Wong smoothly takes control of the situation. “Mrs. Yee, where you live is pretty good,” she chirps. Turning to her pretend-husband, she asks, “When we were looking for a house, did we look here?” Mrs. Yee, now distracted from Mr. Mak’s line of business, says, “It’s just a rental. Once war broke out on the mainland, we moved here hastily.”

Later, Wong and Auyang return to their apartment, where the other students await them. The men get into an argument. Auyang points out nervously, “Didn’t you see those plainclothes bodyguards? There’s no way we can make a move on him at his own place.” Kuang replies, “Whenever he goes out there’re at least a few bodyguards by his side… We need at least two guns.” And as this goes on, Wong says she’s tired and excuses herself. Has she begun seeing herself as the star performer who no longer can pretend to be interested in the petty logistics of the show being mounted? Perhaps so – for when she retires to her room and when Lai stops by to ask about Mr. Yee, Wong extends to her friend a cigarette from a pack, before lighting one for herself. And you think back to the moment on the tram when the situation was reversed, when Lai told a reluctant Wong, “It won’t do if performers don’t smoke.”

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