Film Name: 杀手蝴蝶梦 / My Heart Is That Eternal Rose / 殺手蝴蝶夢
Looking back now at the film “My Heart Is That Eternal Rose,” it may not be Joey Wong’s finest performance, but it is undoubtedly one of her most moving. We often say the eyes cannot lie—
“Do you still love that guy?” asked the gang boss who had sheltered her for six years.
“Yes,” she paused, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears.
Then, as expected, she was struck by the boss’s palm and fell to the ground. At that moment, I was unexpectedly struck by this long-forgotten line and cliché—a shock different from the one felt by Tony Leung, the underling watching nearby. He likely thought that even the boss’s woman shouldn’t utter such a life-or-death declaration in such a perilous moment. Yet what made my pores tighten was a pure, unwavering certainty and loyalty to love. We often say that the wisdom of middle age is merely the ability to remain calmly aware of how one’s environment oppresses and shapes emotions. We’ve witnessed too many plays of restrained, circuitous conflict and heard too many coolly profound, self-consistent lines, to the point where we can endure thirteen Valentine’s Days in a year without ever experiencing a single genuine, pure love. People truly are willing to face death. If you fall for an assassin, what’s swallowing a bullet for him?
Enough about the plot. Let’s talk about what makes Joey Wong so moving. I’ve seen all her films, and “My Heart Is That Eternal Rose” stands out because it liberates her from the Xiao Qian-style tragic fate—she and her assassin lover could have walked away. They could have lived a life of herding horses and sheep, gazing at the moon together in solitary longing, envying only the love birds, not the immortals. Yet, to rescue Tony Leung from prison, they were ultimately drawn back into the bloody clashes of the underworld. When love locks you in, your mind is probably filled with nothing but illusions—she knew Tony Leung deeply loved her, yet she didn’t know for whom she was dying. This film uses this inexplicable gritty texture and martial arts logic to tell the audience: if you don’t repay a debt of love, heaven and earth will destroy you. And Joey Wong’s beauty—it seems it only truly shines when shattered. Life is so unfair. On that escape pier, Tony Leung, a full head shorter than her, kissed her goodbye to let her flee, then shrugged and walked back to face the boss who sliced open his thigh. And I found myself moved to tears. What kind of logic is that! Look at it: Tony Leung spent his entire film career repaying that kiss. “If there were an extra ticket, would you come with me?” “I once heard that if a blade is sharp enough, the blood spurting from a wound sounds like the wind—beautiful. Little did I know the first time I’d hear it would be from my own blood.” Jin Yong said: Deep affection shortens life; supreme wisdom brings injury. My social media feed is filled with declarations: “I’ll never believe in love again.” Perhaps we’ve been too long removed from that martial world where love could be laid aside with a single blow. Now we’re lost in deep affection without knowing where to place it. Don’t blame today’s youth for their fickleness—it’s this era that’s grown too refined and utilitarian. Why must beauties grow wise and broad-minded? Why must they marry talent? Hmph! The beauty of the eighties belongs to the eighties. Mu Xin said, “The clear moon and gentle breeze are easy to share, but the high mountains and flowing waters are hard to find.” Life brings too many encounters. The people we’ve loved, the love notes in our memos, the WeChat notes visible only to certain friends—we can’t carry them forever. Let the past pass through, let it go. Dawn is breaking. I’m heading to the shop to roast a pot of Italian blend as straightforward as “My Heart Is That Eternal Rose,” yet infused with the scent of beauty. Come drink!
Please specify：Anime Phone Cases » My Heart Is That Eternal Rose 1989 Film Review: Fate is so ironic that it silences those who love.