NOSTALGIA

Mrs Chan descends the stairs and waits, politely, at the food stall. The alley is gloomy, lit only by a single spotlight in front of which Mr Chow will now come down to eat the noodles. Music mingles with light and shadow. Everything is there, between the oval windows, the wisps of smoke, the rain falling in slow motion: the pleasure that envelops the melancholy, the air of nostalgia of someone waiting for a kiss that never comes, the certainty of an impossible love. The film unfolds a breathtaking beauty sustained by emptiness. Just like love, it can collapse like nothingness. And the higher the risk the greater the risk of loss. No, we won’t have it forever.