Ode to cinema: Chungking Express

The romance of a convenience store. A chance encounter, feverish, hot. A can of Coke opens with a click, the cool breeze caressing your lips. The hum of white fluorescent light seems to slow the seconds. That convenience store, the takeaway, the late-night eateries, transport you to another place in the world with one foot over the threshold. You don't need to board a plane for that. All it takes is a ceiling fan and background music played a little too loud.

This is the world of Wong Kar Wai's Chungking Express. Against the backdrop of a constantly flashing, teeming Hong Kong, we see two police officers each dealing with heartbreak in their own unique way. One buys a can of pineapple with an expiration date of 1 May 1994, every day, while the other refuses to open his ex-girlfriend's breakup letter. Their grief plays out like a routine in a loop. Perhaps clinging to a routine is necessary to keep one's head above water during the first waves of grief. And yet, the point where one dares to let go of routine is the vibrant place where a new life begins.

Beyond the safety of predictable movements, there's a chance of serendipity, an unexpected twist of fate that could lead you to meet someone new. Like Police Officer 223, who, after vomiting up the last cans of pineapple, meets a mysterious woman in a blonde wig in a bar. Or Police Officer 663, who meets a young woman in a snack bar. Her name is Faye, and she quietly falls in love with the heartbroken police officer. Thanks to the letter he refuses to collect, she finds the key to his house. She sneaks in secretly and starts making small changes to the house. In this (illegal) way, she changes his routines for him.

Chungking Express is a celebration of chance, of those brave enough to take a different path home.

I was dancing at Paradiso once. My hair was sticking to the back of my neck. I met a boy, let's call him Benji. He seemed to be drowning me with the sparkle in his eyes and had the nerve to approach me. He asked, "Do you want to go on a date with me?" I narrowed my eyes and grinned, "Okay, as long as it's in an exciting place."

He said, "I'm going to Las Vegas this weekend. Come with me." There were plenty of reasons to say no. Still, I said, "Okay, but I'll pay for my own ticket." And so, shortly after, I found myself sitting on a plane next to a guy I barely knew.

"So, what do you like to do?" I asked him with a laugh as we took off. We ended up staying in Las Vegas for ten days. He was there to make a documentary about the best poker players in the Netherlands. Like Hong Kong, Las Vegas is a place where things are always moving, where chance, whether intentionally or accidentally, makes people bump into each other. A poker champion taught me how to play blackjack at the Bellagio, and Benji and I lay like two snow elves on the asphalt of the Strip, stargazing.

In life as a parent, it's easy to get lost in routine. Chungking Express reminds us of the beauty of chance, of listening to the whispers of adventures that await us. This doesn't require buying a plane ticket; it could mean ignoring the pile of laundry next to you on the couch and taking your kids to Henk Comics to buy a comic magazine and a pack of Pokémon cards. Or even lying in bed upside down tonight, just for a fresh perspective.

Where I would start? A journey back to the 90s. Let Wong Kar Wai guide you, through the backstreets of Hong Kong, to magical coincidences.