And if that kiss didn’t go down in history, it should have: he’s sitting behind her, she leans back and looks at him for a few seconds. He instinctively knows what she wants and acts on it. The kiss is electric and passionate, yet intimate. In fact, it is private: the moment their lips touch, he takes a fan and hides their faces behind it, leaving us out in the cold, baffled, and utterly entranced with what we cannot see, but only imagine. And the imagination weaves a better kiss than images could ever compose.
What I just described is the starting point of a period of longing and torment which both actors carry out beautifully, leading up to a surprising ending.