Produced by Jackie Chan and Golden Harvest and directed by Stanley Kwan, Rouge won five prizes at the Hong Kong Film Awards, including Best Picture. Mui received the HKFA Best Actress prize and a nod for her performance of the film’s theme song. The quality of this haunting romance makes clear that these honors were richly deserved.

In modern-day Hong Kong, a busy newspaperman, Yuen (Alex Man), receives a visit from a beautiful young woman (Mui) clad in an old-fashioned chongsam. She asks to place a personal ad in an upcoming edition of the paper, and Yuen assists her. When he leaves the office for the evening, he sees the woman following him to a noodle stand and then onto one of Hong Kong’s double-decker buses. At the noodle stand, he answers her seemingly polite chitchat about where he lives, but seeing her on the bus gives him a sense of unease that turns to terror when he realizes that she’s a ghost.

The young woman is the spirit of Fleur, a courtesan from one of the foremost brothels in 1930s Hong Kong. She shared a doomed romance with one of her clients, a wealthy merchant’s son named Chan Chen-Pang (Cheung). Since then, Fleur has searched in vain for Chan in the spirit world, and now seeks to be reunited with him as the anniversary of their separation approaches. The personal ad was intended to summon Chan to the site of their love affair (which she later discovers has been converted to a kindergarten) if he’s still alive or reincarnated, and she hopes that Chan’s spirit will join her if he has died.

Initially, Yuen and his girlfriend/colleague Ah Chor (Emily Chu) are uneasy about Fleur’s attaching herself to them. Things have been strained between Ah Chor and Yuen lately, and of course Ah Chor was less than pleased to return home and find Yuen entertaining a pretty woman. (She’s both mollified and unnerved when she discovers that Fleur, although corporeal, has no heartbeat.) But as they learn Fleur’s story, which is told gradually in flashbacks, they become increasingly sympathetic to the ghost’s plight, and do what they can to help her.

Stories of lovelorn lady ghosts are popular in Hong Kong folklore, and Rouge draws on that tradition. But the film also underscores the changes between modern Hong Kong and the traditional past, both by its contrasts between Fleur’s time and the era the young couple inhabit, and by its updating of the time-honored wandering ghost story. For example, Fleur’s search takes her both to an outdoor performance of traditional Chinese Opera and a Hong Kong movie set.

It’s soon clear that Fleur’s death resulted from a suicide pact with Chan as a result of their forbidden romance, and that resolving her heartache is her sole hope for breaking the bonds that imprison her spirit on Earth. Symbolic of that bond, Fleur still treasures a rouge box given to her by Chan. (The rouge box is also a none-too-subtle reminder of Fleur’s former profession.)

But the relationship between the two present-day journalists is nearly as important as the past relationship between Fleur and Chan. As Fleur relates her sad tale of doomed romance, the two realize how much they value each other. The two discuss whether they would commit suicide for the other, and they agree that neither would. But this revelation doesn’t weaken their relationship – quite the contrary. (The fact that the modern couple explicitly rejects suicide as an expression of love is one of the many contrasts between past and present.)

Yuen and Ah Chor express their increased passion for each other in the film’s most explicit – but still sufficiently discreet – sex scene. As they dance the horizontal mambo (covered demurely by a sheet pulled up to their shoulders), Fleur enters the room and watches sadly. Although not a word is spoken, the viewer feels her loss and regret at having left the physical world.

Indeed, one of Rouge’s strengths is strong performances by the stars, particularly Mui and Cheung. Mui is alternately coquettish, passionate and sad, and Cheung displays both the arrogant confidence of a wealthy scion and the indolent dissipation of an opium addict. Particularly touching is a poignant scene in which Chan brings Fleur home to meet his family, and Fluer pleads in vain for them to accept their love. As a bonus, Mui is given the opportunity to sing – after all, courtesans of the time were expected to entertain their guests in many ways.

Of course, Mui was at least as well known in Hong Kong for her singing as her acting talent. As a pop star, Mui was known for her many personas, and she mirrors that complexity in the film. Although playing only one character, she adopts many different looks, including appearing dressed in male costume during the opening scene where Chan meets her.

At one point, Chan tells her that he’s seen her with heavy makeup, light makeup and no makeup at all, and he likes them all. Fleur’s spiritual strength as a ghost is conveyed in the film by the intensity of her makeup – when she’s in full force, she appears with bright red lips and pale skin, but when she despairs she appears wan and without adornment. It’s a testimony to Mui’s beauty that even without apparent makeup she’s still a knockout.

(Chan has an interest in Chinese opera, giving the filmmakers an opportunity to have Cheung appear in traditional costume and makeup.)

Kwan shepherds the proceedings along at an unhurried pace that may try the patience of viewers used to high-adrenaline Hong Kong action films. But the gradual narrative style is one of the film’s strengths. By revealing the story of Fleur and Chan’s tragic love slowly, Kwan maintains the viewer’s interest.

Anita Mui and Leslie Cheung both enjoyed abundant fame and popularity at the time of their deaths, and in films like Rouge, it’s easy to see why. Hong Kong Digital is exactly right when it says, “In light of the tragic deaths of Cheung and Mui in 2003, the film cannot help but become an even more poignant experience.” Fans of the two stars, those interested in learning more about their careers, or anyone who appreciates a good ghost yarn will enjoy this satisfying collaboration.

In 1930s Hong Kong, the courtesan Fleur (Anita Mui) and son of a wealthy family, Master Chen (Leslie Cheung) falls in love but are forbidden to go through with a marriage by his family. In order to be together for all eternity, the two form a suicide pact and agrees to meet in another life, in another world. We then are transferred to Hong Kong, the year of 1988, and arriving to place a missing persons ad in the newspaper is the ghost of Fleur, still walking alone...

With its Romeo & Juliet-esque storyline combined with a truly Chinese atmosphere, Rouge is a touching piece of cinema that has a quietness to it that is rather enchanting. Director Stanley Kwan is not interested in hysterics or melodrama. Instead this is a mellow, surely handled romantic drama with, as you might've gathered from the plot synopsis, a supernatural flavour to it. The filmmakers choice to proceed veeeeery slowly may alienate some (and have according to online reviews not just for this Stanley Kwan film) but I found Rouge so captivating thanks to curiosity created at the beginning stages of the film. Fleur and Master Chen's first encounter leading up to the suicide pact reveals a relationship of the playful kind. She is a more classy courtesan with her guard up while he brings a slight arrogance that says that ''I can get what I want if I want it''. That creates a distanced chemistry that on some level works against the film since they are later described as such close lovers that they choose to take their lives together. That chemistry I'm talking about will make absolutely full sense to you by the end which makes Rouge another example of a film that has to be followed through until you make up your mind fully. When the film cuts to 1980s Hong Kong, we do not get a change of pace but a continuation of the story in the present with flashbacks occasionally entering the film. The structure by Kwan and the filmmakers I really like because it's not a given at any time how long or when we're going to spend time in the present or the past. It's confident and even spot on handling by Kwan as to when to further develop that makes Rouge so interesting to follow through. As said, nothing is finalized until the final frame of the film and it takes a patient viewer. You just have to float with the narrative that slowly build towards a surprising climax that solidifies the greatness in many ways.

Kwan uses a limited amount of style and goes for full clarity instead, without resorting to full on, annoying exposition. The movie sure has that but part of the structure is about we and the present characters being told the story by Fleur. The content also speaks for itself thanks to the subtle but expressive nature of the characters, and of course the actors portraying them. We've talked about the flashbacks but Kwan also uses short bursts of them, which is interesting and effective. He either fades to black or seems to even kills all source lights, which creates the same effect. Other than that, because this is a character movie, his job is to let us have full focus on that and there's no need for anything but the camera to follow. That simple approach does come with some camerawork that does an excellent job showcasing the wonderful art direction and production design but at the same time employing eye catching, sweeping moves within takes that allows for a more moving environment for the acting itself. A well deserved nomination for cinematographer Wong Chung-Biu. Also, the award winning editing by Cheung Yiu-Chung deserves mention especially in the handling of the ghost character of Fleur. Being the calm film it is, no special effects whatsoever are used but instead, smart cuts and a terrific direction of Anita Mui's movements creates the effect.

In addition to being an engaging romance that through the character of Fleur and the contemporary couple brings up questions about fate, karma and dedication to love, it's also a wonderful slideshow of Anita Mui's ageless beauty. Whenever Kwan focuses on her tragic or joyful face, and especially wearing the period wear, Anita looks so gorgeous that one can't help to be touched on a level of reality as well. Rouge joins the lists of Anita Mui performances that she will be fondly remembered for and it's great that those memorable ones such as July Rhapsody, Drunken Master II and Miracles are very much different kinds of performances. She was not just one thing in films. It's safe to claim that Rouge is her finest role, at least in my mind. Fleur is a courtesan with grace and true dedication for Chen in times where that dedication is likely not to be rewarded because of family values. When we then encounter the ghost Fleur, it's the tragedy, the floating nature to her entire being that's called for in addition to subtle, calm range of emotions that speaks volumes. Somewhat relegated to almost a supporting role, Leslie Cheung is the suave and handsome Master Chen. Starting of as rather arrogant but is revealed as someone willing to go against traditions both in love and choosen path in life. Leslie brings that very nicely to the table, backed up by director Kwan. It's really a credit to Stanley because he could've let emotional matters go the hysteric route in a story like this. Instead he creates a controlled environment that breaks out into larger moment only when really needed, something the actors respond to wonderfully well.

For the modern day couple, Kwan choose experienced TV- and movie actor Alex Man (Hong Kong 1941, As Tears Go By) and A Better Tomorrow's Emily Chu. In a way, they have little purpose other than to be the sympathetic couple that willingly helps and assists Fleur. There are moments between them though that draws parallels with Chen & Fleur and they ponder between themselves what lengths they would go to prove their love in 1980s Hong Kong. While their described purpose works well for what it is, it would've been nice to get more depth to their characters. That's not say that their respective performances are bad. They too blend in well with the subdued tone. Alex in particular has been given a dorky character image that makes him quite hard to recognize at first if you're referencing the mentioned roles in your head.

Stanley Kwan's Rouge has a pace that may create an underwhelming feel despite you knowing it's a touching, supernatural romance playing out in front of you. The opposite is true though when examining what it is closely. Kwan has taken on the challenge, and succeeded, of reaching the hearts and minds of viewers willing to put up with 90 minutes of just quietly watching. It's not about how much he does, it's about what he does, masterfully so. While not THE masterpiece of Hong Kong cinema, it's nonetheless a classic that will be forever remembered for its lead actors, especially Anita Mui. Rest In Peace, both of you.