Twenty years after working with Tony Leung Chiu-wai and Andy Lau Tak-wah on Infernal Affairs, screenwriter Felix Chong reunites with the two superstars as their director on The Goldfinger. One of the biggest local productions ever in Hong Kong, this financial crime drama stars Leung as a finance whiz who schemes his way to the top of the pyramid. Lau is the law enforcement agent who is dead set on stopping him. In an extended conversation with Chong, the filmmaker describes his creative choices, how to make a complex finance film and how he made the transition from screenwriting to directing.
— After touching on forging money in Project Gutenberg, why did you decide to tackle the idea of financial crimes again in the new film?
Actually, financial crimes have been a key theme in my films over the years. It’s not really a continuation of Project Gutenberg, because that film is about what art school graduates can do if they fail as artists. (laughs)
Goldfinger actually had its genesis in my childhood memories. My parents have many friends who worked in finance at the time. That was Hong Kong’s most prosperous era. I didn’t know what was happening at the time, but I could sense the adults were going through major changes in their lives. For example, my parents had friends who suddenly moved from their fancy Mid-Levels homes to a poor neighbourhood. Afterwards, I realised that Hong Kong had been through a number of stock market collapses. I became interested in that topic. I was especially interested in this particular story because I saw how it affected the families of several very, very close friends. It even changed some of their lives. I wanted to know why it happened.
I wanted to write this story after Infernal Affairs. Its success meant that I had earned some bargaining power to decide what to make. So, I developed this project along with other stories, including Project Gutenberg. While developing it, I realised what appealed to me wasn’t the crime aspect, but rather how Hong Kong’s culture was formed, or how we as Hongkongers and Hong Kong itself came to become who and what we are. This strengthened my resolve to make this film.
I spent about a decade on it, on-and-off, while I did other projects. During the post-production of Project Gutenberg, I saw a stage play named Tonnochy. The play covered the same theme! The play’s investor happened to be [Emperor Group founder] Albert Yeung. He found out that I wanted to make a film about that theme and said we should talk. That’s when I started writing the script in earnest. When Tony Leung read the final draft in 2020 and liked it, that’s when the film became real.
— As you were saying, the film is set in Hong Kong’s most prosperous era. Yet, you chose to tell a story about a company’s collapse in that era. Was there something you wanted to say with that?
I didn’t find the thing I wanted to say until I started writing it. Not even a writer truly knows what they want in the beginning. In “making-of” videos, people speak like they had a clear idea all along, but that has never happened to me. Every time, I start with the idea that drew me in, only to discover something else along the way. If my final idea is the same as my initial idea, that means the idea wasn’t fun enough for me. I should be discovering new things along the way.
To me, the key idea of the film isn’t the falling of an empire; it’s that the falling has to do with the economic theory of “the invisible hand.” How is that invisible hand formed? When Tony Leung and I discussed the script, we were both shocked by how terrifying the invisible hand is. In history, people have tried to chop off the invisible hand, but that didn’t work out, either. That idea stood out to me.
People asked me why I didn’t reveal the identity of the ultimate mastermind in the film. The thing is, I did find who that was in the real case that inspired the film, but it was like a Russian doll; there was another invisible force behind that mastermind, and so on. I’d never get to the end of it! The problem is, if I tried to tell that story, it’d be the story of global financial history.
As for why I set the film in that particular era… I actually did consider setting the story in modern times. That would’ve been an economical decision, because it would’ve saved me a lot of money. People think I had a lot of money to make this film, but I really didn’t. But if I changed the era, the point of adapting the original case would’ve been lost. So, I just decided to go back to the original setting.
— Let’s talk about the screenplay structure. Project Gutenberg is essentially different people telling one story. Similarly, most of The Goldfinger is structured around people telling the story of Tony Leung’s character. Are you particularly interested in storytelling as a theme?
My reason for using that here is that if I had told this really sprawling story chronologically and episodically, it would’ve been easy for me to lose track. I actually left out many interesting characters. I only had room for the most essential characters. About a week into shooting, Tony Leung said to me, “It’s a bit of a waste to tell this story in a film. It should be a TV series.” I realised I bit off more than I could chew. Since it was impossible to go to the investors and asked for a trilogy, I just kept going.
There was a question in my head when I started the creative process: how do you react when you are under arrest? After I wrote the arrest scene, I imagined the character going to a place that is filled with people who would sell him out. That was the creative spark. Through that scene, I found the film’s structure.
— In the director’s statement, you mentioned that the biggest challenge for you is to turn very complex financial concepts into drama. Do you feel that you’ve succeed in that challenge?
I did solve it. After I finished the film, I showed it to financial experts and consulted them about whether I got it right, whether the pacing was good, and whether the audience would understand it. There are a lot of complex concepts in the film, so I simplified it to the idea that you buy something cheap, and then you sell it back at a high price. So, I think I did manage to make it understandable.
But if you asked me, if I could’ve made it more dramatic, I would’ve needed more screen time. In my first draft, I needed three or four scenes to lay out the financial conflict. In the end, I had to cut that down to one scene.
— Did you think of taking the ultra-technical approach of The Big Short?
I intentionally chose to go one level below The Big Short. I gathered from those I know that no one really understood The Big Short. Some cinephiles told me they needed three, four viewings to understand it, or that they needed friends to explain it to them. I understood the concepts because I read a lot of books beforehand, but even I found it a little draining to keep up. But I also saw the artistry of the filmmakers, and that they really tried their best. They had a major dilemma: how much should they tell people?
That’s why I intentionally stayed a peg below The Big Short. If you watch Wall Street now, you’ll realise how simple the whole thing is. Everyone is trading stocks on their phones now. They’re even buying American stocks! I wonder if they realise the tax liability with that.
— Can you tell me how long your assembly cut was?
My assembly cut was three hours. And then the second cut was about 140-150 minutes. I was pretty satisfied with that version. William Chang then came in and cut it down to just under two hours. I was shocked. It moved at lightning speed! But he assured me that it was the right form. I was drawn by the idea that he gave the film a different form. He didn’t change the structure, he just changed the form. As you know, William also edited Wong Kar-wai’s films, and now I finally understand why Wong’s films are the way they are.
— Were the most cuts in the last section with the ICAC’s investigation?
You can say that, because that section doesn’t bring in business. It’s strange, because talky Hollywood procedurals like JFK can be really good. I actually shot some scenes in documentary style from the perspective of Andy Lau’s character, but people felt they were too boring. The three court scenes were originally longer. Even the judge had dramatic lines. But they were cut out.
Later, I told people, “See how successful court films have been lately? But you made me cut those scenes!” I know that the big stars aren’t the focus of those scenes. I know the star is trapped in the dock, and he doesn’t talk. And people really wanted the film to get to the ending quicker. They asked to cut the later court scenes, but I said those scenes expose the absurdity of the game. It shows how many people colluded in this game.
— Actually, my favorite financial films from recent years are The Big Short and Margin Call. The latter is just a bunch of guys talking in a meeting room.
Yes. Unfortunately, no one talks about that film. It’s a great film!
— After the success of The Goldfinger, would you have the confidence to make a riskier financial film?
At our premiere, the largest auditorium was occupied by Hong Kong’s biggest tycoons. They’re the most powerful people in finance. They had a blast watching the film. Another auditorium was packed with brokers and dealers. They had a blast, too.
Well, there are two cases that friends have been recommending to me, because they know I’m interested in that topic and I may make them into films. They’re even more complex than the one in The Goldfinger. One has to do with crypto, and it’s very complex. There are some very dramatic things in that world, but I don’t know if people will be interested in it or whether people will understand it. And the other case has escalated to politics and diplomacy, so I’m not sure if I can touch that yet. We’ll see what happens.
— Let’s talk about the casting. How did you decide which character would your two leading men play?
didn’t have anyone in particular in mind early on, because I didn’t want to worry about it until I got investment. I just had an urge to write the story first. Tony Leung is a close friend, and I often show him my scripts for comments. After he read The Goldfinger, he asked me to count him in.
Meanwhile, I happened to be talking with Andy Lau about another project, and we started talking about how 20 years have passed since Infernal Affairs. That’s when I had a eureka moment and asked him if he would be interested in reuniting with Tony. I didn’t tell him the story. I just told him that he would go from being the bad guy to the good guy. Then I told him that he and his co-star would play the characters from their 40s to their 60s. However, only the good guy ages. The bad guy doesn’t age one bit because he is wealthy and the good guy isn’t. He agreed to do it right away.
— And for the supporting players, you chose a lot of younger Hong Kong actors. Tell me about that process.
I cast a wide net for casting. The fact is, I really did have a lot of young characters in the script. So, I made a widespread casting effort. I was the Creative Director of the Hong Kong Film Awards for a few years, so I got to know the young actors whom I worked with on the show. In 2019, a lot of them grabbed me after their performance at the awards and told me they were out of work after that. I saw how talented and capable they were, so I didn’t understand why they would be out of work. So, I decided to promote them to all my director friends. And I promised myself that if I ever made a film that needed them, I would prioritise casting them. This is the result.
— You started a scriptwriter, and you’ve made three films on your own now. What was the biggest challenge in making that transition?
Well, I’ve done nine films, if you count those I co-directed with Alan Mak. I’m very lucky that I was on the set of the films directed by Andrew Lau, and he kept shoving problems at me to solve.When I was on Dance of a Dream, the art director walked up to me and asked me what props I wanted. He insisted that the director asked me to decide. So, I explained what happened in the scene and so on, and he responded, “That’s all you had to say.”
After that, I wanted to do this job well, so I started studying every aspect of production. After some time, I started to get an idea of what a film production is like. After my first day on a film as director, I asked my assistant director – who also worked on Andrew Lau’s crew – how I did. He said, “You just did what you always did.” So, Andrew Lau inadvertently trained me as a director.
Later, I helped my screenwriter friends plan their directorial efforts. I realised that a lot of them don’t keep time on the set. Naturally, they go over time. It turned out that a lot of scriptwriters don’t know how to look at the director’s worksheet. So, I think the thing they have to learn is the workflow of a film production. That’s why I’m very grateful that I was trained by Andrew Lau, when I wasn’t even trying to learn!
— What do you want to tell a foreign audience with this film?
I’ve never thought about telling the audience anything. I can only say that as a filmmaker, telling the story alone already drains all my energy. Of course, we’re human. We have opinions. That’s why we make films. But I believe that the film will naturally reveal what I want to say. I’ll put it this way: I want people to see what Hong Kong is all about. Other than the place itself, what is Hong Kong?