As the Covid-19 pandemic spread through 2020 and into this year, Hong Kong once more faced tough and trying times. The city had plunged into turmoil in 2019 when a government push to enact an extradition bill sparked months of intense protests. Come early 2020, with widespread social grievances far from resolved, Hong Kong found itself flung into an era of disease-control measures. On the film front, while infection levels in the city have remained low, social distancing and other anti-epidemic steps meant local cinemas spent months shut over the past year and a half. Meanwhile, the theatre closures in Hong Kong, mainland China and beyond – plus deeper disruption in movie production – caused serious woes for the city’s film-related professionals.
Hong Kong theatres were ordered shut three times in 2020, with the most recent closure seeing movie houses idle through the Christmas and Lunar New Year holidays. Whenever cinemas did reopen, they could only allow limited seating and saw planned releases pushed back. The top-grossing local film in 2020, Dayo Wong’s comedy The Grand Grandmaster, managed to play in the Lunar New Year period just before the first wave of local restrictions, but the number two hometown production, Kiwi Chow’s psychological drama Beyond the Dream, had to navigate closures later in the year. Only three local films last year passed the HK$10 million (US$1.3 million) mark at the box office, with the third one being Raymond Wong’s All’s Well, End’s Well 2020, a traditional-style Chinese New Year flick offering a fluffy tale of honourable swindlers.
Once Hong Kong and mainland movie production hit the skids early in 2020 and uncertainty grew, local film workers found projects stalled and incomes lost. While some inevitably had to seek work elsewhere, support measures later arrived from both the public and private sectors. Government assistance totalling HK$260 million (US$33.5 million) was announced in July for film financing, talent development and more. Several film companies fired up local productions with an eye toward recovery and nurturing newcomers, and an industry emergency fund sent out cheques to stricken workers. Cinemas gained three rounds of government subsidies, though not necessarily enough to meet Hong Kong’s astronomical rents – early this year multiplex chain UA Cinemas announced its closure after more than 35 years in business.
When they could enter theatres in 2020, Hongkongers had a reasonable selection of films to choose from, though the release count was clearly down. 2020 saw 34 local films hit theatres, down from 46 in 2019. Two hometown productions made it into the overall top 10 – an improvement on zero in 2019 and 2018. The total box office figure for last year was HK$536 million (US$69 million), down 72 per cent per cent, with the number of releases dropping from 329 to 218 year on year.
The success of The Grand Grandmaster saw a scrappy local work triumph over vastly bigger productions. Directed by and starring popular stand-up comedian Dayo Wong (who sold a flat to raise funds for the film), the martial arts parody-drama saw Wong play a low-end kung fu school head who’s beaten by a female boxer, but builds a relationship with her as they head towards a rematch. While hardly a quality kung-fu flick, the film attracted viewers with its rough and plucky attitude. Beyond the Dream, a summer release, on the other hand wooed viewers with sleek and ambitious mental-illness drama that saw a young man fall for an illusory figure and then meet her double. The film’s complex plot and sometimes dreamy suburban lensing won plaudits, and audiences especially latched on to the local flavour.
As in past years, Hong Kong cinema largely followed two directions in 2020: large co-productions made with hopes of success in mainland Chinese cinemas, and smaller works mostly skipping that market. For filmmakers seeking big returns, Hong Kong-mainland co-production continues to be the recipe to access high budgets and megastars. With the hometown market too small to generate consistently large returns (and audience enthusiasm for local fare too mixed), co-production provides a route into the mainland’s booming theatre circuit, with its 77,000-plus screens and a knack for regularly breaking box office records.
Expensive 2020 co-productions included Enter the Fat Dragon, directed by Hong Kong cinema action choreographer Tanigaki Kenji, with Donnie Yen playing an obese policeman sent to Japan on an extradition job. As trouble brews in Tokyo, the Bruce Lee-idolising cop leaps into one fun action set piece after another. Peter Chan turned his attention to Chinese women’s volleyball with Leap, retelling the story of the national team and its coach heading towards a gold-medal winning Olympic performance.
With Knockout, Roy Chow looked to boxing for a tale of a mainland fighter struggling in the ring while raising his daughter. Stanley Tong’s latest Jackie Chan vehicle Vanguard revolved around an elite private security task force. When they’re called on to foil a kidnapping, the heroes embark on globetrotting action escapades. Calvin Poon’s Fatal Visit saw dark domestic drama unfold in the US, where a visiting Hongkonger shacks up with a deeply troubled couple.
Back in Hong Kong, i’m livin’ it focused on a homeless community that gathers overnight in a fast-food joint. While covering difficult social topics, Wong Hing-fan’s film offered pop appeal with a celebrity cast headed by stars Aaron Kwok and Miriam Yeung. Over in thriller territory, Ally Wong’s Infernal Walker rehashed the concept of triads and cops simultaneously having moles in the opposing side, delivering some gritty action in the process.
While co-production opens the door to higher budgets, there’s a catch for Hong Kong filmmakers: because joint ventures play across the country as domestic works, they must pass central government censorship before screening anywhere. Some of the requirements are easily understood, with political content, sensitive social issues, the supernatural and unpunished wrongdoing obviously out. Some workarounds in the plot department, such as setting problematic Hong Kong material back in the days of British colonial rule, or making sure all baddies get locked up or die, have become so routine that avid moviegoers expect them.
Other censorship requirements can be more fluid, however, and productions must run a gauntlet of approval processes from pre-production through to obtaining a final green light. What could be OK one year may be a no-no the next amid changing political circumstances.
Additional co-production difficulties come in meeting the different tastes of Hong Kong and mainland audiences when it comes to stories and stars. Consequently, a work that plays well in mainland multiplexes could be a bust in Hong Kong. While this is hardly set in stone – when handled with care, a co-production can carry a strong Hong Kong vibe and even offer timely local social comment – the result has been a wariness among Hong Kong film buffs toward these big-screen efforts, plus ongoing fears that Hong Kong cinema’s hometown identity might be weakened.
Against this backdrop, it’s little surprise that smaller, highly local works continue to gain prominence in Hong Kong. Aside from The Grand Grandmaster and Beyond the Dream, last year held a diverse list of smaller pictures. Among the best were Norris Wong’s My Prince Edward and Ray Yeung’s Suk Suk, both 2019 films that received theatrical release in 2020. Wong’s picture impressed with a plot set around a popular mall for wedding services, telling of a woman facing a sudden disruption to her love life. Suk Suk offered some sensitive drama in a tale of two elderly family men striking up a gay romance.
Other attractions in 2020 included Yuen Kim-wai’s Legally Declared Dead, which plunged viewers into a dark family saga uncovered by an insurance investigator. Extreme performances upped the intensity as the picture stumbled into increasingly bizarre scenes.
Memories to Choke On, Drinks to Wash Them Down, from filmmakers Leung Ming-kai and Kate Reilly, offered a series of short films focused on different aspects of Hong Kong life, pairing narrative and documentary works. One highlight: a food-themed appreciation of Hong Kong as a teacher takes his foreign colleague around town.
Something completely different appeared in Yonfan’s No.7 Cherry Lane, where heavily nostalgic local animation presented a story of passion between a university student, the girl he tutors, and her mother. While a significant change of media for the noted auteur, the film was unmistakably his in its wash of sultry moods and decadence. Patrick Kong’s You Are the One offered charming romantic comedy as a spunky everygirl falls for a rich bachelor, and Kong’s subsequent The Calling of a Bus Driver held entertaining relationship drama as a woman progresses from a breakup to investigating the woman her ex fell for.
Apart, a low-budget but ambitious politically themed work from Chan Chit-man, looked at university students coming together during Hong Kong’s 2014 Umbrella Movement protests, then catches up with them years later as the 2019 unrest arrives. Luk Yee-sum’s bright and airy The Secret Diary of a Mom to Be presented the tale of a career woman whose life plans are thrown awry when she finds out she’s pregnant.
Adrian Kwan aimed for inspirational drama in Find Your Voice, which followed a choir of troubled kids under the baton of an ace conductor. Much darker fare appeared in Lee Cheuk-pan’s The Fallen, a revenge thriller in which a drug lord’s daughter makes a reappearance with revenge on her mind. Special mention goes to Hell Bank Presents: Running Ghost, a peculiar supernatural saga centred on an underworld game show. Though directed by Singapore comedian Mark Lee, the film was flush with Hong Kong horror-comedy style and local cultural and political references.
Notable films released so far this year have included Herman Yau’s Shock Wave 2, Adam Wong’s The Way We Keep Dancing and Chiu Sin-hang’s One Second Champion. Shock Wave 2 focused on bomb-squad thrills as terrorists set in motion a nuclear attack on Hong Kong. The megabudget production offered a sensational experience on the big screen with high-stakes drama staged across the city.
The Way We Keep Dancing saw young dancers and influencers co-opted to push a park and gentrification project that could in fact harm the interests of creative types. While delivering catchy pop-culture material, the film showed the establishment working to box-in free expression. Chiu’s feature, meanwhile, presented a clever tale of a boxer with the ability to see one second into the future. Offering action in the ring and plentiful training sequences, as well as scenes of the protagonist raising his deaf son, the movie expressed an uplifting vibe for local viewers wearied by tumultuous times.
Also out in cinemas this year was Man Lim-chung’s documentary Keep Rolling, which followed director Ann Hui’s career from the Hong Kong New Wave through to helming major productions, and showing her dedication to the city. Man, a noted art director, put forward a detailed portrait of Hui, making the film a must-see for cinema buffs. Trashier fare turned up in the quarantine comedy All U Need Is Love, a feature slapped together amid the health crisis to keep film talents busy. The loose plot revolved around a hotel where guests and staff are locked in by the authorities, and the filmmakers threw in heaps of stars and silly set pieces – from stunts to makeup – to spread the work around.
In terms of talent, Hong Kong has been continuing its efforts to bring up new filmmakers, with many of the smaller pictures being helmed by first- or second-time feature directors. Initiatives on that front got a push with the government measures announced last July. Among those was enhancing the First Feature Film Initiative, which fully backs films by new directors, to cover six projects a year with budgets of up to HK$8 million (US$1 million) each.
The Directors’ Succession Scheme is pairing industry veterans like Wong Kar Wai and Peter Chan with young filmmakers to make 10 to 12 films, with each production getting a government subsidy of HK$9 million (US$1.2 million). The new Scriptwriting Incubation Programme aims to reward screenplays and help the projects find investors. The publicly funded Fresh Wave short-film competition and festival also continues to find and fund aspiring filmmakers, and established film companies are regularly throwing their weight behind feature films by newcomers too.
In terms of onscreen talent, the top draws in 2020-21 included many long-time familiar faces. Andy Lau, Aaron Kwok, Louis Koo, Miriam Yeung, Lau Ching-wan, Donnie Yen, Anthony Wong, Sammi Cheng, Charlene Choi, Dayo Wong, Karena Lam and Jackie Chan all had major productions in theatres. Smaller pictures saw good turns from rising stars Stephy Tang, Chu Pak-hong, Louis Cheung, Cherry Ngan, Babyjohn Choi, Cecilia So and Chiu Sin-hang (the latter directing himself in One Second Champion). Cecilia Choi was particularly well received in her Hong Kong film debut in Beyond the Dream, and Gladys Li impressed with her first leading role in You Are the One.
As Hong Kong cinema looks to move past the worst of the Covid-19 crisis, another development has sparked concern: the national security law enacted last June. The law targets four crimes – secession, subversion, terrorism and collusion with foreign elements – but critics say that its vague wording can have a far-reaching chilling effect. For filmmakers that means not knowing where the red lines are – a situation that can result in self-censorship for politically themed material. Distributors and cinemas on the other hand could be further dissuaded from handling hot-potato pictures.
The new law adds to stresses in an already fraught landscape. Political issues have festered with Hong Kong society polarised into two camps: “yellow” (pro-democracy) and “blue” (pro-establishment, pro-police). The presence of a star seen as blue can dampen a film’s reception among younger people, while a work from a company or talents perceived as yellow can get a lift from supportive viewers. Directors who previously made a politically sensitive film may have issues finding people to work with, while stars who’ve expressed views deemed problematic on the mainland can run into troubles like blacklisting there.
The downbeat social mood in Hong Kong has extended to talk locally about the health and survival of Hong Kong cinema – an industry that has faced difficulty since the mid-1990s. But for those still standing by local film, there continue to be decent attractions in the offing. This April’s Hong Kong International Film Festival saw the hometown bow for Septet: The Story of Hong Kong, helmed by screen veterans Sammo Hung, Ann Hui, Patrick Tam, Yuen Woo-ping, Johnnie To, Ringo Lam and Tsui Hark, as well as premieres of the homelessness drama Drifting and the black comedy Time, from emerging directors Jun Li and Ricky Ko respectively.
The run of films by first-time helmers was set to continue into the summer with releases including Chan Kin-long’s crime drama Hand Rolled Cigarette, Alan Fung’s multigenerational delinquency picture Elisa’s Day and Lik Ho’s sport saga I Still Remember. Production had picked up speed again following its 2020 disruption, including filming for Felix Chong’s Once Upon a Time in Hong Kong, a corporate crime picture with a record-breaking local-production price tag. The recent hardship has led the more pessimistic to pronounce Hong Kong cinema to be in its death throes. But the ability of Hong Kong filmmakers to once again persist through tough times remains unmistakeable.
Tim Youngs