Directed by Hou Hsiao-Hsien. Written by T’ien-wen Chu
Your poor decisions at an early age can embed themselves deep within your life and their consequences haunt you. Decisions made about your love life even more so, and the difficult process of breaking free, especially when you’re not sure what’s next, is captured in long takes and thumping house beats in Hsiao-Hsien Hou’s Millenium Mambo, the story of a 20-something woman who tries to leave behind her loser boyfriend.
Vicky (Shu Qi) is in a tough spot. She lives with her boyfriend Hao-Hao (Tuan Chun-hao) in a small, cramped apartment. Neither of them work, and the boyfriend’s aggressively unemployed, decidedly against working and instead intent on borrowing money from friends and stealing from his parents to fund his way. He spends his days getting high, playing video games, noodling with his dj set, producing subpar electronic music in between grabbing beers from the fridge.
A listless wastrel can be forgiven, but not an abuser. He physically imposes himself on Vicky. He’s jealous, rummages through her things and grills her about any phone calls she makes. Worse yet, he trapped Vicky in this situation by preventing her from taking her final exam in high school, leaving her with few options but codependence. All told, Hao-Hao submits an impressive resume for the position of all-time deadbeat boyfriend.
Yet Vicky has a hard time leaving, and Hao-Hao keeps weaseling back into her life. “Why!?” you almost shout at the screen. The emotional entrapment people can feel and the fear of being without one of the few things you know can have a strange power, so naturally progress is slow, and detachment doesn’t seem possible until an older suitor shows her life can be different. Hou’s in no hurry to get there, however, and as he peels back the layers, the intensity of his gaze can feel grueling for a modern audience.
First, though, the vibes. Set in 2001, Millenium Mambo is keenly Y2K, as it prominently features its fashion, music and stylings. Crop tops, graphic tees, some baggy pants and dubious hair colors. A new millennium dawned, a hard reset for many, and the movie has the energy to match. A central musical motif underscores Vicky’s long path to greener pastures and it’s defined by its steady uptempo beat and hopeful guitar strings even if a wistful air breathes life into it.
Those moments of air are necessary, because Vicky’s limping into the new millennium with what feels like a thousand years of baggage. Hou shoots a lot of scenes in their apartment from the same spot in the same room, and these scenes go on for long stretches without an edit. It’s claustrophobic, downright uncomfortable at times, as we watch Hao-Hao force himself on a clearly uninterested Vicky, or Vicky tidying up from another drunken hangout.
It takes some getting used to, these long pensive takes, and the fact they’re so noticeable is to admit to how editing standards have changed. While Hou’s style has always favored the long take and been an outlier, the chasm has only widened. The attention-deficit editing of today makes some of Millenium Mambo feel glacial, but here’s the thing: overzealous editing and pedantic close-ups feel like you’re having your entire head grabbed, neck twisted, and your face thrust within and inch of an object while someone yells into your ear “look right here!”
Hou’s distanced takes let you discover the micro interactions within the complete picture and experience a sense of authenticity in discovering them for yourself. Life reveals itself, it isn’t forced. If you can devote yourself to Hou’s style, there are rewards.
Millennium Mambo has the feeling of being a clear peek into a time and a place. Fully realized, it evokes both the material as well as the spiritual, and an opening monologue declaring the story to have taken place 10 years ago makes it all seem as if it’s taking place inside some snow globe, a preserved memory with heightened senses. With Hou’s style, it becomes a hyper-focused story about a tough extraction from a toxic relationship that rides on the knowing energy that better times are to come.
Mikkel Frederiksen 