

They rehearse scenes. "How did it start?" they ask each other, pretending to be the cheating partners. They eat noodles alone in cramped rooms. They leave each other’s apartments without being seen. They rent a room together to write martial arts serials—but always with the door open.
They are in the mood for love. They just refuse to call it that. Wong Kar-wai and his cinematographer, Christopher Doyle (along with Mark Lee Ping-bing), break every rule of coverage. They shoot through venetian blinds, behind door frames, under stairwells. They use slow motion so languid it feels like suffocation. The camera is always almost looking away.
But Wong Kar-wai is making a film about decency as tragedy. Mr. Chow and Mrs. Chan cannot commit adultery because that would make them equal to the people who betrayed them. They hold onto their pain like a moral shield. They would rather be lonely than be wrong.
Because sometimes, the most powerful love story is the one that never begins.
And so they practice. "Let me go first," she says at the stairwell. "No, you go first," he says. They are always leaving, never arriving. I will not spoil the ending fully—you deserve to feel it unmediated. But I will say this: Mr. Chow goes to Angkor Wat in Cambodia. He finds a stone ruin with a small hole in the wall. He whispers a secret into that hole. Then he seals it with mud.
Wong Kar-wai once said he wanted to make a film about "the things we don’t say." He succeeded so completely that watching it feels like reading someone else’s diary—and finding your own name on every page.
And the cheongsam . Maggie Cheung wears over twenty different dresses. Each one is a kind of armor. When her husband leaves her, she wears red. When she cries alone, she wears blue. When she almost touches Mr. Chow’s hand, the pattern is a floral explosion of desire. The dress holds her body in a vise—just as propriety holds her heart.
Then there is the music. Nat King Cole’s "Quizás, Quizás, Quizás" (Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps). A waltz by Shigeru Umebayashi. Every time the melody swells, you know something will not happen. The music is the sound of longing converted to regret. Why don’t they just be together?
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Evaluating LGD:
S&P Global Market Intelligence's LGD scorecards are used to estimate LGD term structures. These Scorecards are judgment-driven and identify the PiT estimates of loss. The Scorecards are back-tested to evaluate their predictive power on over 2,000 defaulted bonds.
The Corporate, Insurance, Bank, and Sovereign LGD Scorecards are linked to our fundamental databases, meaning no information is required from users for all listed companies and for a large number of private companies.
Final LGD term structures are based on macroeconomic expectations for countries to which these issuers are exposed. Fundamental and macroeconomic data is provided by S&P Global Market Intelligence, but users can again easily utilize internal estimates.
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Source: S&P Global Market Intelligence; for illustrative purposes only.
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They rehearse scenes. "How did it start?" they ask each other, pretending to be the cheating partners. They eat noodles alone in cramped rooms. They leave each other’s apartments without being seen. They rent a room together to write martial arts serials—but always with the door open.
They are in the mood for love. They just refuse to call it that. Wong Kar-wai and his cinematographer, Christopher Doyle (along with Mark Lee Ping-bing), break every rule of coverage. They shoot through venetian blinds, behind door frames, under stairwells. They use slow motion so languid it feels like suffocation. The camera is always almost looking away.
But Wong Kar-wai is making a film about decency as tragedy. Mr. Chow and Mrs. Chan cannot commit adultery because that would make them equal to the people who betrayed them. They hold onto their pain like a moral shield. They would rather be lonely than be wrong. in the mood for love wong kar-wai
Because sometimes, the most powerful love story is the one that never begins.
And so they practice. "Let me go first," she says at the stairwell. "No, you go first," he says. They are always leaving, never arriving. I will not spoil the ending fully—you deserve to feel it unmediated. But I will say this: Mr. Chow goes to Angkor Wat in Cambodia. He finds a stone ruin with a small hole in the wall. He whispers a secret into that hole. Then he seals it with mud. They rehearse scenes
Wong Kar-wai once said he wanted to make a film about "the things we don’t say." He succeeded so completely that watching it feels like reading someone else’s diary—and finding your own name on every page.
And the cheongsam . Maggie Cheung wears over twenty different dresses. Each one is a kind of armor. When her husband leaves her, she wears red. When she cries alone, she wears blue. When she almost touches Mr. Chow’s hand, the pattern is a floral explosion of desire. The dress holds her body in a vise—just as propriety holds her heart. They leave each other’s apartments without being seen
Then there is the music. Nat King Cole’s "Quizás, Quizás, Quizás" (Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps). A waltz by Shigeru Umebayashi. Every time the melody swells, you know something will not happen. The music is the sound of longing converted to regret. Why don’t they just be together?

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