A movie more palatable than its namesake

Fruit Chan (陳果) is good at presenting vivid images of Hong Kong street life, but he extends his range in Durian Durian, winner of a shelf of prizes at this year's Golden Horse Awards, including Best Picture and Best Actress.

Yen (Qin Hailu, 秦海璐) comes to Hong Kong on a three-month visa to work as a prostitute, taking as many customers as possible so that she can move back to Manchuria with a bundle of money and begin her "real career."

She acts cool, tapping her high-heels through the city's narrow lanes at night, shuffling through one love hotel after another. During the day she waits at a crowded tea restaurant, barely finishing her lunch box before being called to another customer. Then she walks back to her small shack in the lanes. Her dream of seeing the glittering view of Hong Kong harbor at night remains only a wish. She gazes instead at a picture of the famous skyline from a calendar on her wall.

Fan (Mak Wai-fan, 麥惠芬) is a teenage girl, an illegal immigrant also from the mainland. She sees Yen's life of strolling the lanes while washing dishes with her mom outside their small apartment. Her father supplements his meagre income by smuggling goods from Shengzhen to Hong Kong. She hopes that one day her parents will take her to see the dolphins at Ocean Park.

The two girls' different worlds meet when Yen's pimp is hit by a durian fruit, which comes to symbolize the friendship between the two women. Like Yen, Fan is a drifter too. The only difference being that Fan drifts from one family member to another, while Yen drifts alone.

There is a touching, if not classic, scene in which Fan's family shares a durian in their dank apartment. The father introduces the durian, the so-called king of fruits, to the family. "Oh, it smells. I'm not gonna eat it!" says one family member. "It is very sweet and it's rare and expensive. Just one bite, you'll see!" the father says. As the family gabs over whether or not to eat it, the camera rolls slowly back to Fan, reluctantly trying a bite. An unusually long take, the scene captures the warmth of Fan's humble, bittersweet family life, just as it's shown in her face while trying the smelly durian.

The fruit also serves as a metaphor for the Hong Kong the two girls live in. It's a land of gold, but it's also as dirty, alienating and noxious as the fruit.

Later the camera takes you to Yen's homeland, Manchuria. The northern China in Chan's lens is more human than Hong Kong, but Yen's memories of the place seem distant at best. The people there are poor, but they have high hopes. All to often they have false dreams about making money in the south. Yen throws a feast to treat her neighbors. She acts cool and proud. But she is no longer the girl with the dream of a beautiful future. Instead, she's become alienated from her familiar snowy homeland. One day, she receives a gift from Fan, a big, pungent durian. The smell reminds her of the days down south.

Chan presents contrasts not only between the north and south, but also within Yen who strives for a beautiful existence through squalid means.

As a new actress, Qin shows multiple layers in her talent in a calm, undramatic way. Her turn as Yen fits well with the film's light, sentimental tone.