Film

Long before Wong perfected his dreamy, ennui-infused aesthetic (or got hopelessly stuck in blueberry goo), he made a name for himself with this warhorse tale of small-time hoods on the road to ruin. Every director has to start somewhere, and in Wong’s case, that meant giving Hong Kong cinema its own Mean Streets: Lau is the Keitel-esque wise guy, Jacky Cheung is the dangerously unpredictable screwup, and an oh-so-young Maggie Cheung provides the long-suffering romantic interest. Poses are struck, punches are thrown, and lines are crossed as the film slouches toward a no-future ending.

Seen back in the day, As Tears Go By must have seemed like a moodier alternative to all that HK hyperkineticism; it’s impossible to watch Wong’s debut now, however, without scouring the stock plot for traces of future genius. The filmmaker hasn’t yet figured out how to properly employ a pop narcotic (Marianne Faithfull’s hit is MIA, though you do get a Cantonese rendition of “Take My Breath Away”), and he’s only coyly flirting with stylistic flourishes. But Wong’s baby steps are still strong enough to make you sit up and take notice; the minute you see that opening shot of neon-blue TV monitors, you sense that a major player has stepped into the fold.