Claustrophobia
Ivy Ho

The story: Tom (Ekin Cheng, above left) suggests to his employee Pearl (Karena Lam, above right) that she quit her job and take up another one. Something seems to have happened between them but it is not clear what exactly.
The film then unfolds chronologically in reverse, revealing more information with each step back in time, but raising almost as many questions as answers along the way.

The Chinese title Intimate (Qin Mi) and the English title Claustrophobia both apply equally to this film.
Set in cars, lifts, a crammed office and a crowded restaurant, it is about the awkward proximity that urban living thrusts people into. It explores this enforced closeness with people you might have little in common with – and know little about – and how this can be either claustrophobic or strangely intimate, or even an ambiguous mix of the two.
The first time the audience sees Tom and Pearl alone, it is in his car after he has dropped off their colleagues. There is tension between them, but much is left unsaid and you are left to wonder what exactly passed between them. Was there an affair? Was there a moment when a line was crossed?
This is Ivy Ho’s directorial debut after penning award-winning scripts for the well-received dramas Comrades: Almost A Love Story (1996) and July Rhapsody (2002).
The Hong Kong film-maker has chosen to tell a deceptively simple story in an unusual way as the narrative unspools backwards.
Is this a movie that calls for it? Memento’s (2000) fractured structure reflected its protagonist’s state of mind, while Irreversible’s (2002) reverse story-telling made a point about the fragility of happiness.
Here, the device serves to heighten dramatic tension in order to sustain viewer interest. But there is no denouement really.
The interesting thing, however, is that the state of Tom and Pearl’s relationship could conceivably have made no difference to how the story ends.
Ho also includes as a counterpoint the prickly relationship between two other colleagues, the earnest John (Derek Tsang) and the abrasive Jewel (Chucky Woo), reflecting another facet of claustrophobic intimacy.
With its elliptical silences and moody tone, you can absolutely envision this as a European film.
Karena Lam does a competent job reining her feelings in, but she is no Juliette Binoche or Irene Jacob, whose faces reveal hidden depths with the tiniest flickers of emotion.
Ekin Cheng’s take on the seemingly well-meaning and decent boss does not delve far beyond the surface. But it strikes the right note as you never quite get a grasp on him.
Claustrophobia might be too tentative and obtuse for some, but that is what life is like at times. Isn’t it?
(ST)