Making It Big: Hong Kong Films in 2015

 

 An eco-conscious tale of a young mermaid trying to free her community from the ravages of looming property development, the film joined a run of big-ticket successes for Hong Kong producers and directors.

Sitting atop the mainland China box-office chart for 2015 was another Hong Kong production: Raman Hui’s live action and animation crossover Monster Hunt, a madcap fantasy tale of efforts to save a cute monster prince, which hit cinemas in the summer and held the national all-time record until Mermaid took the title. Back at home, Hong Kong cinema’s vital signs weren’t always so hot in 2015. 

 

The city’s filmgoers are as movie mad as ever, and they lifted the box office tally by 20 per cent in 2015. The year’s total number of films rose seven per cent to 332, spurred on at the high end by Hollywood blockbusters, but the picture was less encouraging for local productions.

The count for local films went up to 59 in 2015 from 52 the year before, yet market share sagged from 22.4 per cent to 19.4 per cent. And when the full-year stats appeared, only one film, Adrian Kwan’s kindergarten tearjerker Little Big Master, had cracked the overall top 10. In contrast, two local films reached the top 10 in 2014. Kwan’s film was a small production, yet it scored big with an inspirational tale that, by highlighting problems in the education system, parents could easily connect with.

 

But the success was exceptional, as other films with hometown themes could slink into and out of cinemas with little notice. For Hong Kong cinema die-hards trying to keep track of every single local release, the effort can be increasingly difficult with smaller films reaching as few as one or two screens, or showing at odd hours while prime slots go to imports.

As in past years, the Hong Kong film business remains a largely two-track affair: serving up productions that can play in the large mainland market but may be less attractive at home, and offering small locally themed films in hopes that the hometown crowd would offer support. 

 

Co-productions with mainland partners gain access to the nation’s immense multiplex network and are clocking up ever greater box-office figures, and pricy pictures like Mermaid and Monster Hunt simply can’t be made without appealing to that market. For highly ambitious filmmakers like Tsui Hark, the potential offered by mega-productions is being realised in ever grander films like last year’s wartime caper The Taking of Tiger Mountain. 

Even minor co-productions benefit: Derek Yee’s I Am Somebody, about migrant extras at the mainland’s massive Hengdian film studio, seized on an intriguing concept far beyond what local cinema would usually cover, while many mid-budget Hong Kong-set films are made with an eye toward reaching the large Cantonese market of neighbouring Guangdong province. Problems persist with co-productions in Hong Kong, however.

While the fully mainland-set Mermaid managed to top the local chart in the past Lunar New Year, not every co-production finds such success with Hong Kong viewers, who often skip stories staged across the boundary. Audience tastes between Hong Kong and the mainland can differ greatly, from pop-culture trends to comedy styles to preferred stars, and young Hongkongers in particular are likely to favour home-grown characteristics over mainland-friendly themes.

While Monster Hunt ran big across the mainland, in Hong Kong it only managed less than a quarter of what Little Big Master took in at the box office. It was far worse last autumn for John Woo’s Chinese maritime disaster effort The Crossing II, which squeaked into just two cinemas for limited shows. Other ongoing gripes about co-productions include the adherence to mainland censorship – even on release in Hong Kong as mandated by the city’s Closer Economic Partnership Arrangement trade agreement. 

 

Overt political content is obviously out, and other no-nos in sex, morals, violence and more are steered clear of, sometimes through clumsy devices that undermine the viewing experience. Viewers watching a ghost story, for instance, may sit guessing how the central supernatural element would – in no uncertain terms – be explained rationally at the end. Filmmakers even have to contend with the risk of talent being blacklisted in the mainland.

Monster Hunt’s tortuous production history included lengthy reshoots after its original lead actor was arrested in a Beijing drug bust. The film industry’s high-profile mainland focus was felt in Hong Kong during the recent Lunar New Year, a peak season for filmgoing. 

 

Mermaid was among a trio of co-productions – the other two being Soi Cheang’s fantasy epic The Monkey King 2 and Wong Jing’s crime comedy From Vegas to Macau III – that held the fort for Chinese-language cinema over the festive period. But the line-up had something missing: a regular-style Lunar New Year release. 

 

In the past, at least one film would stick to a traditional formula that steers assorted frivolities into a final festive scene, replete with greetings to cinemagoers.

That’s not necessarily quality fare, but it’s Cantonese comedy that can stand as a counterpoint to the slicker films made with a mainland focus and no clear Lunar New Year link, and many Hongkongers noted the absence. Despite the mixed industry fortunes, Hong Kong’s filmmakers delivered another diverse slate in 2015. Action cinema continued to be a strong point with films like Soi Cheang’s SPL 2: A Time For Consequences. 

 

Following up on Wilson Yip’s 2005 film SPL with a new set of characters, SPL 2 tore into spectacular modern-day action in Hong Kong and Thailand, and grounded it in strong character-driven screenwriting.

Cheang continued his fine run with The Monkey King 2, a superbly crafted fantasy piece based on the classic novel Journey to the West and with delightful performances from Aaron Kwok and Gong Li. Wilson Yip, meanwhile, offered more traditional martial arts action in Ip Man 3, returning star Donnie Yen in the title role. 

 

This time the emphasis turned to Ip’s relationship with his wife, thanks to a script that capably rounded out the lead characters, while action was assured in bouts with adversaries Max Zhang and even US boxer Mike Tyson. Elsewhere in the action genre, screen veteran Ringo Lam returned to directing with Wild City, a locally set thriller involving a mystery woman and a suitcase full of cash. 

 

Dante Lam meanwhile shifted gear from moody thrillers to helm To the Fore, a bloated story of pro cyclists competing in the Asian race circuit. More genre highlights turned up in big pictures like The Vanished Murderer. 

For this sequel to his 2012 film The Bullet Vanishes, Lo Chi-leung centred a murder mystery on a fictitious depression-era Chinese city and livened it up with creative action flourishes like an indoor horse chase. In the horror department, the standout was actor Nick Cheung’s second effort as director, Keeper of Darkness. Drawing on traditional superstition, the locally focused film about an exorcist (played by Cheung himself) mixed spooky scenes, family drama and laughs with aplomb. 

 

 Also gaining attention, including a raft of end-of-year award nominations and wins, was Philip Yung’s grim murder drama Port of Call. Released in a version 20 minutes shorter than the one screened earlier in Udine, the film stood out for its uncommon venture into adults-only violence as well as impressive performances by new actors Jessie Li and Michael Ning. 

 

More over-18s fare arrived in Christopher Sun’s Imprisoned: Survival Guide for Rich and Prodigal, a prison flick based on a web novel and upping its local cred with prominent use of the latest Cantonese slang. Among dramatic works, most distinctive was Johnnie To’s bold workplace musical Office. Based on a local stage production themed on corporate affairs and capitalism, Office stood apart with more than just its uncommon song-and-dance focus and A-list stars like Sylvia Chang and Chow Yun-fat.

To set his film, from the workplace to the street to a train station, entirely in highly stylised and see-through studio sets, relying on careful efforts in staging, art direction and sound design to show changes of space, and he drew exceptional performances from his cast. 

 

More conventional drama appeared in Adam Wong’s She Remembers, He Forgets, a film headlined by local screen queen Miriam Yeung and released to much anticipation after the director’s 2013 surprise hit The Way We Dance. Wong drew heavily on nostalgia in the gentle film, gearing its tale of a school-days romantic tangle to appeal to a middle-aged local audience. 

 

Mabel Cheung returned to directing after more than a decade off with A Tale of Three Cities, basing the historical romance on the story of Jackie Chan’s parents, played by Lau Ching-wan and Tang Wei, amid upheaval on the mainland from the 1930s to the ‘50s.

Among less classy dramatic works, Patrick Kong continued his string of low-end romances in Anniversary, reteaming stars Stephy Tang and Alex Fong close to a decade on from their first partnership in Kong’s oeuvre. The picture marked the end of a busy year for producer and director Kong, who delivered five films in 2015. Those keeping an eye out for new directing talent had several key pictures to look to last year. 

 

Early in 2015, screenwriter Lau Ho-leung offered Two Thumbs Up, an absurdist crime comedy about would-be thieves ham-handedly disguising themselves as cops. Another writer making the jump to directing was Jody Luk, a regular collaborator with director Pang Ho-cheung. Luk turned in the adults-only drama Lazy Hazy Crazy, a sprawling story led by emerging acting talent about three girls’ friendship and set apart from regular Hong Kong fare with its copious nudity and frank sexuality.

 Also stepping into unusual screen territory for local cinema was Nick Leung, whose kooky Get Outta Here featured a Western-style vampire who turns up in Hong Kong and helps protect his adoptive household from property developers. Benny Lau, a radio host turned filmmaker, presented light romantic fare in Wong Ka Yan, a nostalgic tale of an island boy searching the city for the dream girl he once met at a cinema.

 
New directors like these are continuing to find backing from commercial production houses, which often juggle pictures large and small in a bid to bring up new directing talent. Also lending support to emerging filmmakers is the annual Fresh Wave short film competition, which celebrated its 10th anniversary last year. Fresh Wave continues to be a boon for aspiring filmmakers, students included, who try their hand at cinema and build a name with shorts publicly funded and screened under the programme. 

 

Further support can be found in the government-backed First Feature Film Initiative, which in March this year launched its third script competition to fully fund low-budget feature-length debuts.

The first film completed under the initiative, Chan Chi-fat’s local baseball story Weeds on Fire, premiered in the same month at the Hong Kong International Film Festival. One unexpectedly prominent work by new talent emerged independently, however, when the ultra-low-budget omnibus Ten Years was released late in 2015. 

 

Comprising five shorts by Kwok Zune, Wong Fei-pang, Jevons Au, Chow Kun-wai and Ng Ka-leung, Ten Years offered bleak views of Hong Kong a decade in the future and was shot without commercial aspirations. The shorts’ topics, reflecting anxieties about political interference, threats to local language, censorship and more, nonetheless struck a chord with moviegoers, and a backlash in mainland state media boosted interest. 

 

By the time Ten Years was bumped out of cinemas ahead of Lunar New Year, its limited screenings (many of them sold out) had brought in takings rivalling or even beating those of mid-budget mainstream films. If things are looking good for sustaining new directing talent, the same can’t be said for acting.

As in the past few years, major productions continue to draw on a steady pool of established actors including Lau Ching-wan, Louis Koo, Andy Lau, Chow Yun-fat, Nick Cheung, Jacky Cheung and Aaron Kwok, while few young local actors look set to gain similar traction. Koo notably turned up in five leading roles in 2015, from Little Big Master to SPL 2 to Wild City, and took cameos elsewhere. 

 

Hong Kong leading men continue to be paired mostly with mainland actresses in co-productions, and few local leading ladies are scoring prominent star turns. Miriam Yeung was a key exception in 2015, headlining Little Big Master and She Remembers, He Forgets, while Karena Lam is making a comeback with films like Steve Yuen’s recent drama Heaven in the Dark. 

 

Small films like Patrick Kong productions give room for local female leads – see Ivana Wong in the trashy Jil Wong-directed comedy Love Detective – but too often emerging starlets seem picked for looks and celebrity over acting credentials. What’s more, 

 

Taiwan talent is finding more high-end work: Eddie Peng (To the Fore) has become a regular in big productions, and Amber Kuo (Keeper of Darkness), an actress big in mainland film, starred in three major Hong Kong pictures in 2015. Meanwhile, the city’s filmmakers shouldn’t rest on their laurels in the face of mainland competition.

 Last year in particular had mainland filmmakers echoing Hong Kong cinema style on its home turf, and seeing efforts pay off handsomely. Xu Sheng’s crime-comedy Lost in Hong Kong ran riot through the city’s locations and prominently played up local cinema nostalgia, and it ended up as the number two China film for 2015. (Hongkongers, for their part largely ignored the film, as they do most straight mainland productions released to the city’s theatres.)

Xu wasn’t the first director to deliver Hong Kong cinema style – Ding Sheng is another – and his film is a reminder that mainland filmmakers can confidently take a leading role in tailoring such material to their home audience. Also of concern are high-profile Hong Kong letdowns. 

 

This year’s From Vegas to Macau III, made in the wake of part two’s huge success, largely ditched the previous central gambling thrills in favour of a slapdash mix of sci-fi and random cheap-looking diversions like a ping-pong showdown.
The large A-list cast, Chow Yun-fat and Andy Lau included, helped lift the film past the RMB 1 billion (US$173 million) mark, but widely seen efforts like this risk hurting the Hong Kong brand. Fortunately, the 2016 film slate continues to hold its fair share of promising productions. 

 

With the approach of Easter and summer schedules this year, Hong Kong film buffs had another diverse slate of films to look forward to. Johnnie To had a couple of titles: producing the crime film Trivisa, helmed by Fresh Wave alumni Frank Hui, Jevons Au and Vicky Wong, and directing a new thriller in Three.

The border-crossing actioner The Bodyguard saw Sammo Hung’s long-awaited return to directing, and Herman Yau had a new triad saga in The Mobfathers. And even more action was in store in Sunny Luk and Longman Leung’s thriller Cold War 2 and Derek Yee’s wuxia flick Sword Master. 

 

Reassuringly, the line-up mixed new directors and veterans, and juggled highly local themes and pictures with far wider appeal. Holding the mainland’s all-time box office crown is doubtless an industry confidence booster, but just as important is supporting diverse themes and deepening the talent pool for the sustained health of Hong Kong cinema.