days of being wild (1990)

[yestoday]

I'm slowly clearing my BTOB music video watchlist. (Kill Your Darlings: check. Now, Days of Being Wild: check.) I must say, Show Your Love Changsub just became tenfold hotter than he already was.

Okay, it's been a while since I posted something new here—I've been wanting to, but I somehow just cannot find the time to sit down and ramble for hours on the keyboard recently. My public relations! My new projects! My homework! To be fair, saying it like this makes it sound like I'm a very productive and occupied person, but I'm not. Those things listed make up an incomprehensible jumbled mess in the midst of my life's timeline that is very difficult to work around, but that's a story for another time. There's a lot I need to catch this journal up on… That will hopefully be able to come soon. There's a lot I want to say, alright.

I've never done a movie review before, so I'm a little inexperienced in this, but I do have some thoughts I would like to share about Days of Being Wild (1990).

But first comes my staple unnecessarily detailed account of what led up to the moment I've decided to discuss here.

Let's start from the beginning: for the longest time, I had planned to check out some Wong Kar-wai movies, as I've seen exhibitions of the aesthetics, and they just seemed so wonderful to me. These are the colors and atmosphere I adore; I knew it was right down my alley after MAMAMOO's Wind Flower music video bestowed upon me a transcendental sensation. Then, of course, came the additional boost of finding out Changsub's parodied character in Show Your Love was, in fact, from Days of Being Wild.

Last night, after a day's worth of BBB (self-coined: Beatcom Bingeing Brainrot), catching up on the sweet selection of stages for the 220624 "Summer Workshop" Music Bank half year special (more Moon sibling collaborations… I am begging), and settling in to finally listen to the second season premiere of Korean Cowboys Podcast (it was the social media episode; I cannot say I agree with all of their points this time, but I respect it).

The film-watching-impulse seed was actually planted in the midst of my Chinese lesson—before I listened to KCP, actually, since I was doing that lesson's homework while listening. I love that Chinese teacher so much, but I still don't remember her name. I have gathered information for everything else about her, though, like: she's a '98 liner; she's from Sichuan but, ironically, can't eat really spicy things and gets teased by her friends for it; she has two 妹妹, but they're not her 请 sisters (she's a single child), they're her younger cousins, and they're both taller than her; she went to Thailand to teach kindergarteners Chinese for a learning program in her sophomore year of college, and since she's good with kids, they all really liked her and clung onto her leg to not let her leave; her favorite K-Pop group was EXO; she had a mini-phase in high school where she was obsessed with Ok Taecyeon, but she never spent money on idols since she got yelled at by her parents the one time she bought an album; she really likes the K-Drama Hospital Playlist; she watched Goblin, so she knows 陸星材 (very important to me—she thinks Sungjae's cute like a little brother); she covered Apink's Mr. Chu with her friends once a long time ago; she has seen Reply 1997, based on her description of the plot, but keeps calling it a different one because she gets the different Reply shows mixed up (she doesn't think Seo Inguk is that hot, contrary to everyone around her); her favorite and most built Genshin characters are Ayaka and Kokomi. Sorry, I'm getting sidetracked again. Also, I should probably stop because I realized how creepy this appears now.

Anyway, at some point, our textbook brought up Hong Kong, and I absentmindedly said, "I would like to go there," just trying to say shit and not thinking much of it. But, then, she asked me why. So, I kind of had to make up with a reason in that position. I simply brought up the fact that I liked Wong Kar-wai's film aesthetics, and then we ended up going on another side-tangent over this topic. I cited 阿飞正传 as the one I watched, and everything else she showed me as ones I planned on watching. The thing is, I have actually not seen 阿飞正传 at the time of speaking to her. I decided that my words here would officially condemn me to watching it immediately after the class ended. And so, I did—after speedrunning the assigned homework while listening to Aaron and Joel rant about social media and, when that podcast ended, to Younha's 2007 albums, because why not? (I just saw Sungjae singing 혜성 on a Beatcom episode earlier, so maybe that's what provoked this choice of music.) That is how I ended up browsing through every variation of 123movies for Days of Being Wild (1990) before, eventually, remembering that asianembed.io existed.

There are two sides of my brain fighting over what to ultimately get out of this movie: the first side is trying to genuinely appreciate it as the artful classic cinema it is in the most objective and local mindset as possible, and the other side is trying vigorously to make an entire Changsub-centric AU out of this. It has been a whole night and half a day, and I cannot tell you which side is winning as of now—it may as well be a tie, for all I can foresee.

No, but seriously, I'm going to let the mental illness loose for just a brief moment to admit that ever-so-occasionally my brain would flash the image of Changsub in the place of Leslie Cheung, and I would need to take a quick pause to start praying to god, or something… because damn. Hear me out: this could be a 섭민 and 섭룬 AU. Just think about it. And Hyunsik is Tide—holy shit, everything is coming together. Changsub as Yuddy is just a really hot concept, fuck! The Show Your Love music video director was so real for this; what the hell… they definitely knew what they were doing. Moving on.
 

So, this movie begins by introducing Yuddy through Sou Laizan. It's not long after their relationship crumbles that we are dropped in the midst of Yuddy's life. We learn more about him through the environment and the dialogue. Though well-off, his familial relationship is unsound. His adoptive mother is an awfully interesting character to me; I think some of my favorite scenes were the ones where he was talking with her—but more on that later.

Yuddy is a rash character; this is presented evidently in just about any action he makes—from the spouts of violence, to his refusal to maintain a stable relationship. Yet, he's not a figure that the audience can resent. I mean, come on, he's a young, nihilistic heartbreaker; what could be more attractive? He's a reckless player, but he is discontented. His physical needs, wants are all readily available for him, but through all this, he is still lacking love. And the one continual drive he had of finding his birthmother eventually lost its meaning when he realized that she did not want to meet him, so where can he go now?

(Yuddy is like a more unsympathetic—perhaps less dimensional—portrayal for the stock character of Kang Yina from Age of Youth.)
 

This movie concluded with several ends going untied. It wasn't meant to be a satisfying conclusion; it was supposed to reflect the unceasing continuity of time. When one tale ends (Yuddy's death), the others that were intertwined with his story still go on. Do Laizan and Tide ever reunite? Does Leung Fungying ever discover what happens to Yuddy, and if she does, what does she do then? What of Zeb; does he move on? These characters all lead their own journeys in the world, now. More persons like Yuddy will keep existing (as portrayed by Tony Leung's character in the final scene), and the wild days of youth never end.
 

The lighting was gorgeous—everything I expected. It was beautiful even through the shit quality I was viewing it in. I can't say I have much expertise in cinematography, but from what I could observe, the scenes all had the ideal overlay of an atmospheric cadence and evocative visuals; it was pleasing to the eyes and ears. Though, I'm not sure if it was just the camera lens, or if it was purposefully directed this way to show tension, but whenever two characters spoke face-to-face, they seemed unnecessarily close to each other—and yes, I mean in the scenes that aren't intimate. Like, when Laizan was sulking outside of Yuddy's apartment, Tide was, like, really closing in on Laizan, and I was like 'woah there…' That might just be me, though!

I can see why Wong Kar-wai also ended up directing some martial arts films. There was certainly a lot of smashing and crashing in this. I'm loving the cartoon punch sound effects during the train station fight. Not going to lie, this was not a movie where I thought I would be seeing bulks of violence, but even though some ofthe action was sometimes awkwardly integrated, it looked pretty badass; I'll give it that. 

Oh, time to finally talk about the scenes with Yuddy and his adoptive mom. They have an interesting relationship. Their scenes provided delicious food for thought. Between these two distinct characters, it's interesting to see how equally disillusioned they both are. Perhaps, Yuddy was influenced by his mother to become the way he is. Actually, that probably is the cause. Seeing his mother intentionally letting herself being played around by men who merely want to use her for money without even having a father figure himself is discernibly going to leave him commencing… fatherless behavior!

His mother is just as detached from her lovers as our main character, but unlike Yuddy, she has one person whom she couldn't come to terms with separating herself from for the longest time, and that was Yuddy himself. She resisted disclosing his birthmother's details, even when Yuddy asserted that he was upset with her inclination to "let [him] know a bit, and hide a bit." Rebecca plainly stated that she knew he, who has stayed by her side for the longest time out of anyone in her life, would leave her as soon as she told him. Yuddy was yet unfazed by this, in a way that implied to say 'Alright, let's die unhappy together then.' It was this conversation with his adoptive mother in that stuck with me the damned most. It was until sternly declared, "Unless you have died, then we will be happy," that she finally accepted that she cannot keep him. ("…for [he] is not [her] own blood," she knew he wouldn't stay.)

"I'll tell you who your mother is, now. I can't stand it any longer. You've always used this excuse before. You can't use it anymore. You want to go, right? Alright, then go. Go as far as you can. Don't let me know that you are cheating yourself."

Like mother, like son, they are both self-destructive in their treks through forsaken attempts at romance. Rebecca, knowing that her body is getting old, has resolved to make do with whoever can make her feel something even temporarily, finally settling once and for all with a decent man who wanted to bring her out to America. Yuddy, in his lively and still-energetic youth, would continue to hop around until his accumulated karmic debt catches up to him at the end of his short lifespan—a fleeing bird that was doomed from the start.

"There was a bird who flied and flied until it died. It never went anywhere, though, because it died from the start."

He knew his endeavors were aimless. He knew, yet he kept going—kept flying through streets and hearts.

And this brings me to the thematic bird analogy. It's perfect, I think—I can't imagine one that fits Yuddy better. Yuddy's final monologue coming full circle back to this very metaphor implemented into the story at the start is a common form of cinematic parallelism, but it is nonetheless striking here.

"I've heard that there is a kind of bird with no legs. It could only fly and fly… When it got tired, it slept in the wind. This kind if bird could only land once: that was when it died."

Yuddy was a nonstop seeker of thrills, of pleasures. He wouldn't rest—not for any woman, not even when his only known purpose of wandering was lost. He only flitted onwards, ramming head-first into obstacles if needed. Only death, as foreshadowed, could intervene in his endless flight.

"I've said that I never know which woman is my true love. I wonder what she's doing now. Dawn breaks—it looks fine today. How about sunset?"

This next line was interesting, though. In contrast to all cynical moves that we've seen from him, it seems that he does, in fact, believe that there is a destined true love out there somewhere. Despite that, he is utterly devoid of an urge to find her.

To close this off, I'll leave it with a final note of one line. Leung Fungying says in an argument with Yuddy, "A woman comes up suddenly, and claims that this is hers, that is hers; how can I know how many women would come up later? If one comes and says that you are hers, should I give up?"