Chungking Express and Food

Wong Kar Wai's *Chungking Express* and Urban Environments

Many critics and reviewers have noted how Chungking Express transforms Hong Kong from setting to character, an urban environment that mirrors and promotes the alienation and coping strategies implemented by all four protagonists. Brigette Ling, the Woman in the Blonde wig, wears femme fatale disguise that includes a trench coat, blonde wig and sunglasses. He Zhiwu, Cop 223 (Takeshi Kaneshiro) jogs each time he loses a girlfriend, claiming the sweat eliminates his tears. Faye (Faye Wong) listens to "California Dreaming" at such a high volume that she can't think. And Cop 663 (Tony Chiu Wai Leung) pretends his ex-girlfriend is waiting for him in his apartment, ready to jump out of a wardrobe in her flight attendant uniform. 

Although I certainly agree with these interpretations of how the Hong Kong environment both perpetuates and ameliorates stereotypes of the city as an isolating and alienating ecosystem, for me, food and house pets more effectively connect these human figures with nature and each other. Food, goldfish, and a pet dog illustrate ways an urban environment can promote interdependence rather than separation. 

Food and setting interconnect in Chungking Express through the crucial location in the film: the Midnight Express takeout restaurant. The restaurant provide parallels and points of overlap between the two seemingly disparate romance narrative in the film. Cop 223 frequents the restaurant, using the public phone to call all of his ex-girlfriend's relatives and check his messages. The lack of response to these call leads Cop 223 to the bar where he meets and immediately falls in love with the Woman in the Blonde Wig. Nearly every day, Cop 663 buys food at the restaurant for his girlfriend, moving from a chef salad to other dishes at the owner's suggestion. He even claims she left him because he bought fish and chips and decided she wanted variety in men as well as meals. Faye works at the restaurant to help out her uncle, filling in when an employee leaves suddenly. 

But food also connects characters and the environment in less obvious ways. When his girlfriend May leaves him, Cop 223 buys one can of pineapple slices per day with an expiry date of May 1, explaining, "We split up on April Fool's Day. So I decided to let the joke run for a month. Every day I buy a can of pineapple with a sell-by date of May 1. May loves pineapple, and May 1 is my birthday. If May hasn't changed her mind by the time I've bought thirty cans, then our love will also expire." On the last day, he eats all 30 cans. His voiceover narrates the journey the pineapple took before ending up in the cans, from field to processing plant, to store shelf. This focus on process explicitly connects him to a natural world beyond but integral to the life of Hong Kong. 

 Cop 223 eats voraciously throughout his narrative, not only devouring gallons of pineapple, but also eating four chef salads with french fries and a burger during the night he watches Woman in the Blonde Wig sleep. These American foods tie Cop 223's story with Cop 663's in a couple of ways. First because Cop 663 buys a chef salad every day until convinced to provide variety. Secondly because Chef Salads are associated with California, the "California Dreaming" of Faye's song and the locations where they "meet" in parallel--the California Bar and the actual California. 

Food brings Faye and Cop 663 together, too. Although after changing shifts, Cop 663 eats Cantonese Food at an outdoor stall instead of American takeout, Faye finds him on her trips back from the produce market, easily convincing him to carry her heavy baskets of fresh vegetables back to the restaurant. The film's conclusion at the Midnight Express counter also connects the two, but I've provided way too many spoilers already. I've also run out of time, so I will need to write about the power of house pets in a later post. 

I've lost my joy

I’ve lost my joy

It must be back there

somewhere

on Route 24

sliding

into a snow bank.

A state trooper

inches by

promising to

call for  help;

even he won’t stop

offer it a ride

and bring it

home.

Grading and Poetry

It's been a week of grading and evaluating film and poetry submissions. I've been commenting on literature unit plans and regretting how much work students put into them! Argh! What I really mean is I'm tired.

Here's the introduction to a selection of poems written by middle and high school students soon to be published in the Illinois English Bulletin:

Benefits of Poetry Writing

Every year middle and high school students submit amazing poems to the Illinois English Bulletin poetry contest. Last year we highlighted how poetry writing aligns with multiple Common Core Standards. But there are many more reasons why children, teens, and adults should write poetry. Here are just a few:

Poetry helps us know each other and build community. As Phoenix Suns owner Richard Jaffe explains, “poetry provides a gift of inspiration or education to others. One thing we know—we are not alone! Universal questions, fears, and emotions are called ‘universal’ because everyone, no matter what country or culture they’re raised in, experiences them. Once we’ve done the work of exploring and finding our own answers, we can help others by sharing them. I like to share my poem ‘Eternal Happiness’ because it describes what I’ve found to be the source of my own eternal happiness.”

Poetry opens venues for speaking and listening, much neglected domains of a robust English Language Arts curriculum. When read aloud, poetry is rhythm and music and sounds and beats. Reading poetry aloud can improve vocabulary and pronunciation, and help students discover culture and history. According to a study conducted by social worker Nadia Alvarez and psychotherapist Jack Mearns, “connecting with a [spoken word poetry] community, having a forum of communication, emotional development, and having an internal drive to write and perform help the poets to feel balanced in everyday life. The performance aspect of spoken word poetry seems to confer several benefits that would not be found in writing alone, such as social support through connecting with others.”

Poetry provides a space for English Language Learners. Because poems defy rules, poetry can be made accessible for ELLs -- poems can be easily scaffolded and students can find ways of expressing their voices while being limited in their vocabulary. Teach for America’s digital initiative specialist, Emily Southerton asserts “Poetry ignites students to think about what it’s like to share their opinion, be heard, and make a difference in their world.” Southerton sees poetry as a safe place to write. For Southerton, “Students can let go of traditional writing rules with poetry. I tell the kids the most important thing about poetry is that people feel differently after reading it.”

Poetry builds resilience in kids and adults; it fosters Social and Emotional Learning. As poet and visiting writer at Ursinus College Anna Marie Hong asserts, “Writing poetry remains one of the best tools we have for knowing what we think and what we really feel.” For Hong, “Writing provides a way for us to process experience, which is often difficult for young adults, to understand it better, to connect our lives with the experiences of others, and to change events through this new understanding.” The students who submit to IATE’s poetry contest are well-served by their writing!

Netflix, John River, and the Thames

I originally associated John River of the Netflix/UK series River with the Thames because it highlighted the only natural element in the show. But after watching the first season, I believe the evolution of John River parallels that of the River Thames, moving from polluted muddiness to the possibility of renewal.

We view the Thames for the first time at night from John River’s point of view, highlighting the source of its name. Derived from the Celtic name for the river, Tamesas (from *tamēssa) it probably originally meant "dark." Others suggest the root of the title Thames is Indo-European and pre-Celtic with a root indicating "muddiness," like the first sighting in the series. But this meaning also connects with John River’s search both for self and for his partner Stevie’s murderer—both of which are muddy in the first episode.  

The Thames was indeed “dark” and “muddy” from at least the middle ages forward, first from raw human and animal waste, and then from unregulated industry. In 1957, the pollution levels became so bad that the River Thames was declared biologically dead. The amount of oxygen in the water fell so low that no life could survive and the mud reeked of rotten eggs. 

Like the Thames, John River seems almost lifeless, perhaps more dead than Stevie, who appears to John periodically, singing pop songs and cracking jokes that sometimes offer clues to her killer. By episode two, though, John has adopted Stevie’s cat, bringing life into his sterile apartment. The episode includes several scenes highlighting the bond John forms with the cat. Because it belonged to Stevie, John’s connection with the cat certainly represents the close relationship he shared with Stevie. But it also demonstrates an evolution for John River. He cannot be “biologically dead” like the Thames because he can sustain another life, even if it is only a cat.

Although the cat does not serve as an integral part of the show after episode two, it serves as the foundation for more complex living relationships for John. By episode six, the final episode of season one, John has built friendships with several characters in the show: Rosa (Georgina Rich) the therapist who clears him for work, his boss Chrissie (Leslie Manville), and his new partner Ira (Adeel Akhtar) and wife Marianne (Lydia Leonard).

Like the Thames, John River “teems with life.” According to a 13 October 2010 Telegraph article, “125 species of fish swim beneath its surface while more than 400 species of invertebrates live in the mud, water and river banks. Waterfowl, waders and sea birds feed off the rich pickings in the water while seals, dolphins and even otters are regularly spotted between the riverbanks where it meanders through London.”

After his strategic wanderings through the city, John River and partner Ira solve Stevie’s murder. But they also form a bond that translates River’s isolated schizophrenic life into a loving family. In the season’s last episode, River, Ira, and Marianne share a picnic near their desk, but when River hugs Marianne’s child and says “hello” with a smile, he finds a home. In River, this family teaches John River to believe his alter ego Thomas Cream’s claim: “I have always thought a country should be judged on how it treats its insane, rather than its sane; the stranger on our shores rather than those already home.” John’s “country” earns an “A.”

iZombie and Food

 

Most Sundays lately, I've taken lunch to a friend's house and relax while eating by watching an episode of  iZombie (2015-16). As another loosely adapted D.C. Comics series, iZombie ties together zombie horror with comedy and the police procedural to enliven the genre. Its sassy goth protagonist Live (Rose McIver) and her two allies, police officer Clive (Malcolm Goodwin) and chief pathologist Rav (Rahul Kohli) help maintain its high interest level. But the show also highlights at least a few environmental issues that move it beyond the obvious. Sure the cause of the zombie virus is linked to energy drinks and the tainted drug Utopium and evolves into a virus contracted through the usual zombie bites. Sure the usual period of rigor mortis is shortened or eliminated altogether, so the undead can awaken in an ambulatory state.  But the connection between food and zombies our weekly lunch represents is translated in two interesting ways in the series that showcase the transformation of food into economic power.

In iZombie too food moves beyond the natural and is instead constructed by culture and economic power, this time as brains acquired either legitimately or through the usual criminal violence. For once zombie and Meat Cute owner and now funeral director Blaine (David Anders), brains are a commodity, so to increase his market, more zombies must be created and forced into serving as paying customers. For pathologist and police consultant Liv, brains acquired from murder victims sustain her, but they also provide a way for her to give back, helping to solve these victims' murders. In both cases, though, brains become aestheticized, transformed into culinary delights either for sale or for Liv's criminal cases. The series takes the time to show Liv turning organ meat into a foodie's delight in overhead shots that emphasize the beauty of brain pastas, burritos, and even Sushi. This beautification of food is amplified in a recent episode in which Liv ingests the brains of a social media addict. In iZombie food is both commodity and cultural artifact--at least if human brains are food.