Despite its flaws, My Blueberry Nights manages to create a brilliant emotional hyperspace tapped from the pain of forlorn, heartbroken characters. Every dive bar, back alley, and desolate highway visually exaggerate the slow passage of time, where painful memories linger no matter the locale. Director Wong Kar Wai, working for the first time in English, envisions a heightened brand of Americana connected by wet pavements and small towns, spaces oozing with color and movement populated by characters never satisfied with their fate but unable to fully admit their failures in love and life. My Blueberry Night certainly falters in it’s patchwork second half, becoming a fragmentary road film at precisely the wrong moment. But the flame has been lit, and its lovely melancholy remains long after the final, subdued kiss between its long gestating romantics.
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