>_“I've heard that there's a kind of bird without legs that can only fly and fly, and sleep in the wind when it is tired. The bird only lands once in its life... that's when it dies.”_

Each person will come out of this film with a different interpretation for this quote, for me the bird symbolises those who are too terrified of feeling anything real, and so spend their whole lives distracting themselves with anything that will disconnect them from the ground, because they know if they ever come back down, the pain will be too great to bare.

In the first two acts of the film, we see the protagonist attempt to drown the grief that comes from not knowing who his parents are with flings with women (that he never allows to become anything real), sex and occasional violence. It’s only when his adoptive mother finally tells him where his birth mother is that he finally allows himself to face that hurt, which ultimately gets him killed. Like his adoptive mother said, all his life he used not knowing his parents as an excuse for “years of running wild” (like the bird that always flies), but the minute he’d know their identity he would no longer have an excuse for his behaviour and, much like the bird, would be forced to finally ground himself, face his complicated feelings and grow up.

Wong’s ability to explore such complicated human emotions through the story of a man and that specific metaphor is wonderful.

No one does atmosphere, nostalgia and longing quite like the Chinese filmmaker and _Days of Being Wild_ is no exception. The beautiful, intriguing and often suffocating mise-en-scène, the delicious score, and the tantalising use of colour and light make this film yet another dreamy escape for hopeless romantics who just want to understand the pain in their hearts a little better, or rather sit with it for an hour and a half.

The ending feels out of place, but the fact that it eventually functioned as a link into his later film _In The Mood For Love_, makes the unofficial Love Trilogy all the more fun to experience.

I suppose you might call the dashingly handsome "Yuddy" (Leslie Cheung) a bit of a Lothario. He has good looks and charm, and he sails through life thinking only of himself. His ideal existence comes to a bit of an abrupt halt, though, when his alcoholic courtesan of a mother "Rebecca" (Rebecca Pan) reveals to him in a drunken stupor that she isn't actually his mother at all. The rug has now been pulled from under his cocky feet and he now embarks on a rather self destructive journey to find out just who the real woman is. After an initial relationship with "Su Li-zhen" (Maggie Cheung) he finds himself hooked up with dancer "Mimi" (Carina Lau) but no nearer his ultimate goal. It's only when "Rebecca" decides to set off with her newest beau for a new life that she dispatches "Yuddy" to the Philippines where his answer lies. Meantime, "Su Li-zhen" has again found herself alone after her boyfriend decides to leave his police job and become a sailor. Is it all possible that the two might reconcile? Now, there is definitely something of the episodic - even soap opera - about this film. An unlikable and frankly selfish character seeking his own truth for his own reasons, but to be fair to the director and the writers, they manage to elevate it from the more tabloid and gradually develop the characters into creatures with whom we can, to an extent, empathise. There are façades all over the place, truth and honesty and trust are near, but in shadows - and the use of the dark, rainy, Hong Kong scenarios provides ample locations for all of those to hide - and from which to be discovered. Not my favourite of Wong Kar-wai's films - it is just a little predicable - but still, he packs lots into ninety minutes and the cast deliver well - especially Maggie Cheung - and I did enjoy it.