On the basis of Hong Kong
imports such as The Heroic Trio, In The Mood For Love, Hero, and 2046, Maggie Cheung ranks as
one of cinema's few iconic beauties, but along with that glamour comes a
certain cool distance. Though her performances are often affecting, they give
no suggestion of who the "real" Cheung might be, which sets her apart from the
Method actors who labor to reveal themselves. So leave it to Cheung's former
husband, versatile French director Olivier Assayas, to demythologize her.
Cheung played herself in Assayas' witty 1996 movie-movie Irma Vep, appearing as a Hong Kong
superstar lost amid the chaos of the French film industry. Still, that was
barely a primer for her bracing work in Assayas' Clean, in which she plays a
chain-smoking, motor-mouthed pariah who tries against the odds to overcome a
heroin addiction. Good as she is, it's almost a shame to know she's human,
after all.
Channeling the Courtney
Loves and Yoko Onos of the world, Cheung stars as the embattled wife of a
fading rock star whose decline has been largely–and perhaps fairly–attributed
to her influence. When her husband dies from a drug overdose, Cheung serves a
six-month prison sentence and gets released with no friends, no prospects, and
the lingering affects of addiction. Though her father-in-law Nick Nolte shows
remarkable sympathy for her plight, he and his wife retain custody of Cheung's
young son, and he requests that she stay away from the boy for a few years,
until she can get her act together. Struggling with a new dependence on
methadone, Cheung bounces around Paris for a while, waiting tables at a Chinese
restaurant while trying to revive her moribund music career. The only thing
keeping her life from circling down the drain is the possibility of reuniting
with her son.
Assayas' filmography is
loaded with curveballs, from Irma Vep's New Wave energy to the exquisite period
trappings of Sentimental Destinies, so it's surprising that he'd play conventional
movie-of-the-week material this straight. Though enhanced by a choice
soundtrack (the use of ambient Brian Eno is particularly strong), beautiful
widescreen cinematography, and Assayas' usual cosmopolitan touch, Clean doesn't exactly reinvent
the wheel. The film gets its distinction from the performances by Cheung and Nolte,
whose scenes together are suffused with loss and unexpected mutual compassion.
Though he has every reason to hold her responsible for his son's death, as his
obstinate wife does, Nolte believes that everyone deserves a second chance, and
Cheung clings to this courtesy as her only lifeline. Without it, she would be
recovering to nothing.