Love Massacre
Reviewed by YTSL
The often illogical realm of Asian cinema being
what it is, it was almost inevitable that the one film that Brigitte Lin
Ching-Hsia made on American soil would: Not be readily available
on home video; possess a Hong Konger dominated crew and cast; have her
being dubbed into Cantonese by somebody with a not particularly attractive
voice; plus be bereft of English subtitles for all but the few minutes
that take place prior to the flashing of the movie’s opening credits.
Under most circumstances, that last detail alone would make me disinclined
to check out this 1981 work. However, on account of the Patrick Tam
helmed effort starring my favorite actress, having been shot at an interesting
point in her life and career (i.e., in the period after she had fled Taiwan
to escape the love scandal which had enveloped her and Chin Han, and before
she had set out to re-establish herself in Hong Kong) and happening to
be a rather unusual (sub-)category of movie (to wit, an art-house slasher
thriller), I found that I couldn’t resist the lure of viewing -- and then
sharing some of my thoughts re -- it.
LOVE MASSACRE starts off with a stunning view
of a red dress clad Brigitte Lin walking in a desert-like space, towards
and up a sand dune, and leaving a long, solitary trail of footprints in
her wake. Then, abruptly, it shifts its focus to two other individuals,
who stand and tensely talk on a bridge that spans a still- looking body
of water. Shortly afterwards, we (the audience) are treated to the
chilling sight of the female of the pair slitting one of her wrists with
a blade. Before this (re)viewer had a chance to fully comprehend
what she had just seen, this “new wave” Hong Kong film suddenly cuts to
its boldly written opening credits (that are accompanied by blasts of sound
that are a real contrast to the haunting reed music that had played earlier
on -- and would also later figure -- in the work).
For all of the air of mystery along with the seed(s)
of horror that were planted in its first few minutes though, much of LOVE
MASSACRE actually proceeds in a rather straightforward -- and consequently
easy-to-follow, even if clearly artistic (e.g., this is the kind of work
in which people are seen casually strolling through art museums) -- manner.
Early on, it gets established that the suicidal woman is named Joy, the
man on the bridge -- whose plans to go to New York she had voiced dissent
to -- is named Louie, and that Joy harbors suspicions -- and is clearly
jealous of -- Louie being in love with her room-mate, Ivy Lin. Upon
learning that Louie is played by Charlie Chin (who not only happens to
be a frequent co-star of hers but also actually was engaged for a time
to the actress known as “Wondrous Beauty”) and Ivy is portrayed by Brigitte
Lin, those familiar with Lin Ching-Hsia’s Taiwanese romantic weepies might
jump to the conclusion that this movie will follow the lines of a conventional
melodrama and center around a love triangle involving sweet faced Ivy,
unhappy Joy and the handsome Louie. With the entry of a fourth character
(the clearly upset Joy’s elder brother, Chiu Chung; who gets essayed by
Chang Kuk Chu) into the picture though, this is shown to not be the case.
Indeed, before too long, Joy (who is played by
an actress whose name I do not know) is permanently removed from the story,
having died -- in circumstances that could be construed as accidental but,
given her history, might well have been purposely brought about -- the
same evening or night that Ivy and Chiu Chung consummated the relationship
between them that began shortly after the Hong Kong man’s arrival in San
Francisco (where the bulk of LOVE MASSACRE takes place). After his
sister’s funeral, Chiu Chung goes home to Hong Kong, but not before issuing
a “wait for me” command to Ivy. If she hadn’t consequently found
out that he was in fact a married man (whose wife gets portrayed by Deannie
Yip), she probably would have happily done so. Instead, she learns
to get over both him as well as the sorrowful state she momentarily fell
into upon learning of his marital status.
Things might have proceeded happily on from there
if not for it being so that, in the first half hour or so of the film,
doubts had gotten cast over the psychological stability of not only Joy
but also her elder brother. After news reaches her regarding the
premature death of Chiu Chung’s wife, Ivy understandably starts to feel
fearful for her safety as well as her erstwhile lover’s mental health.
Despite her not living alone (but, instead, in a small residence hall type
facility with (at least) seven other ethnic Chinese females) as well as
having Louie still around in town, she is filled with a sense of unease…that
gets greatly exacerbated upon her getting solid proof of Chiu Chung having
returned to San Francisco. Thereafter, as Ivy does her best to avoid
Chiu Chung even while he does his utmost to see more of her, tension mounts
and suspense builds; and, to say the least, the audience’s nerves are jangled
all the more with the realization that this offering -- whose art cum assistant
director, William Chang, has made heavy use of reds as well as whites (e.g.,
we see lots of all too easily stained white walls, clothing, bed sheets,
bathroom ceramics and kitchen furniture along with a red sports car, red
strawberries, blood red tomato juice, shiny red lipstick on Brigitte Lin’s
lips, a pair of similarly colored short shorts, and – of course –
red blood) -- is in fact entitled LOVE MASSACRE.
In terms of dramatic, aesthetic and technical
quality, LOVE MASSACRE is clearly a cut above many -- if not all -- of
the Taiwanese works that Brigitte Lin had previously graced. Something
that this production’s cinematographer, Brian Lai, shares with the cameramen
who the Taiwanese movie goddess had worked with prior to making this film,
though, is a propensity to shoot a lot of close ups of the then twenty
five year old actress’ lovely visage. I see no reason why viewers
of this intriguing offering -- along with Brigittephiles -- will not be
appreciative of his doing so. It’s always nice, after all, to have
some breathtakingly beautiful images to take in and remember (to help counter-balance
the less pleasant others that this Joyce Chan-scripted effort also yielded).
My rating for the film: 7.5.