Made in Hong Kong is a film I had never heard of before. Never had I seen it mentioned online, nor have I ever heard anyone bring it up in discussion over incredible films over the past few decades from Asia. The director Fruit Chan is also a name I had never seen before, not a single work of his has made its way over to me. This film, and his name, were discoveries after a significant amount of searching online through many lists of Hong Kong films. There's certainly many I haven't heard of, and likely never will. But I am so, so happy to have found Fruit Chan's 'Made in Hong Kong'.
Truthfully, I fear that no other film will come my way that will give me a similar feeling to it. I found myself in absolute awe of its photographic beauty, frequently pausing the film just to take screenshots; not even for this review, but simply out of sheer appreciation for the directing and cinematography talent it oozes with. Even in such moments, I often didn't want to stop it. I wanted the film to continue on, to reveal the fates of his characters and to continue on doing so with such understanding for the methods of filmmaking.
To be completely honest: the moment the film ended, I felt empty. I had the thoughts that filmmaking and even civilisation had already peaked, and that I couldn't even remember the last time I modern film made me feel a similar way, nor could I think of any that had such a beautiful style and awareness of photography without overstepping into a place of pretentiousness or exhaustion. I've seen many, many beautiful films, but I can only think of a handful of entries that reach this standard. And again, many of which are not even of this era. Watching its credits roll across my screen, I had the feeling of hopelessness, the feeling that as a civilisation, our best times had already passed.
Whether this is correct or not is entirely up to interpretation. But I find it profound that a film had managed to make me feel this way again; it has certainly been a very long time since one has.
Made in Hong Kong
During the late nineties, Hong Kong was changing rather dramatically in every aspect. Its people were frightened of what was to come next, knowing the handover from Britain to China was to take place in 1997, its people felt lost. The feeling of loss, uncertainty, and abandonment was all too familiar. Cemented within their nature. They were neither Chinese, nor were they British. However, the people of Hong Kong have never really been capable of being just that: Hong Kong. Someone, elsewhere, was always in control. Sadly, to this day, things have only managed to get worse for the city.
As expected in such times, those most affected by significant changes in politics and society are the youth. They're introduced to a world rapidly changing, and changing far out of their control. They have no say in anything, nor do they have any possibility of getting their voices heard. Despite its many sub plots, Made in Hong Kong is a film about its youth of the nineties. It's about their struggle to adapt to and accept a city that has never really been for them, but created and maintained by others. With youth comes the rejection of conformity. The rejection of tradition and rules.
When society becomes such a struggle to survive in, people reach desperation. They find a way to escape the struggles and find their own path to survive. Naturally, for many this means crime. A series of selfish acts that only benefit one individual while inflicting pain on others. The main character quickly acknowledges his selfish behaviour, but while it is all he knows, he continues. He bends and manipulates such power into trying to do good with it. While all it does is bury him deeper into such struggles.
The film is riddled with metaphors. Riddled with signs of desperation and fear. It's hard as the audience to not see a child that has been formed as a result of a broken home and a longing for purpose, even when he is waving around a gun. We see his attempts to do good and stick up for those weaker than him, having realised that they, like him, are simply victims of this society that has abandoned them. For him, his father abandoned him. For others, it was society that has cast them aside.
Hong Kong as a teenager
With the city soon to again fall under another person's ruling -- in this case it being China -- there's a lot of metaphors which display the act of growing into adulthood. The time where we, as teenagers, reach a point in life where know we are getting older and must take decisions into our own hands. For the people of Hong Kong, they can't do this. Their future has been decided for them, but they can, as growing people, come together to find the best way to go about this issue. To find a way forward together despite the many inevitable problems that are coming their way.
It's a sad event to consider: a history of having your society controlled by outside forces. Never really having the ability to control your own future and find what's best for those who inhabit the city. As mentioned prior, we see a society that longs for purpose, and will try to find ways to survive knowing that what is coming may lead to more pain.
We see four different characters given screen time in the film: one is often referred to as a "retard" for his disability, and is incapable of defending himself. One is surrounded by crime and has a tough persona. One is a teenage girl that is dying from kidney failure. And another is a girl that has ended her life yet somehow haunts the dreams of our tough guy teenager. In a way, each of these characters come together to create Hong Kong as a city: a fragile, lonely place that cannot defend itself, but finds a way to come together as one. That while they are incapable of defending themselves, they're not alone in their suffering.
The use of narration to portray emotion
Throughout the film, we're given strong narration by our main character: the tough guy. We're given direct insight into his mind as we see his everyday actions. Even in moments of brutality, we see how he portrays the world, and how he still feels and longs for certain aspects of life. During the narration, we're accompanied with the film's heavy focus on visuals. There's a poetic connection between what's said and what's displayed: the decayed, enclosed housing apartments of Hong Kong. The view of the city as its lights begin to turn on as the sun begins to set. The many colours and architectural beauties that form the city itself.
I've always loved this style of storytelling. Where we, the audience, are given access to the character's minds. We see the ways they think and why, as well as what leads to their actions. It allows us to reason with them, to feel immense pain for the suffering they face, and also connect with them on a more human level. We no longer simply see them as characters in a film, but as people we can relate to. The lack of exposition and traditional filmmaking of one character talking to another is removed; the very wall between fiction and non-fiction ceases to exist. For a film like Made in Hong Kong, every aspect of it is a reflection of humanity. To display the loneliness and abandonment we feel. To reveal our complex minds.
The beauty of Made in Hong Kong
Shot on 35mm film, this film is incredible in its highly diverse range of colours. As you may have already noticed, many frames are very colour dependent, focusing on maybe an aqua like blue, the orange and white of the apartment buildings and their railings, or the dark tones of the city at night. Colour is everything in this film, and it takes full advantage of it at every moment it possibly can.
The composition in most frames stems entirely from a photographer's mind. Where they see the beauty in the lines that others do not see. Fruit Chan's directing work is very indicative of talent, but I can't deny that those behind the camera, the cinematographers, really put everything they could into making this film as beautiful as they could. It holds some reflection to the film's narrative surrounding a suicide letter, in a way the film itself being a love letter to the city.
It shows the brutalist architecture of Hong Kong, the modern concrete that fills the streets, alongside the dated and well-lit markets that sit beneath them, kept hidden by sheets of tarp that blocks the radiant red and blue lights they rely on. There's a contrast between the use of colour and light to portray their emotions, using exaggerated blues to display the innocence and fragility of life, as the characters play with death. This is more evident as the film progresses and the use of colours turns darker.
Speaking of the colours, I also cannot fail to bring up the punk, very westernised fashion of the characters. With incredibly tight clothes and spikey hair, even this shows reference to the country's search for identity. Where the tight rooms they inhabit are filled with western culture and movie posters. While the fashion is incredibly stylish and of its time, one can easily miss the problem of an identity crisis as people latch on to a lifestyle that isn't theirs. Desperate to simply have one.
Made in Hong Kong's style is one that rarely goes matched even several decades later. The passion behind its style stems from the heart itself, to a time where the money didn't matter, but the narrative and inspiration it served to those who observed it did.
A bittersweet end
I'd do anything to watch this film again for the first time. This feeling hit me with such overwhelming strength upon its ending. I felt everything the film intended for me to feel. Whether it was being visually stunned by its approach to storytelling, or the very story itself. Every moment of it was such an incredible experience to have, and one that feels near impossible to repeat.
While it reflects on its city's beauty, its people, and its society, there's a narrative there to follow. None of these elements feel forced upon you, it's far from blatantly political. It doesn't want to be that, it simply wants to show you that it exists. It gives you characters that you can easily love, and a story that makes you feel for them.
Made in Hong Kong is a rarity. I believe I've said it numerous times already, however: it is a film that you cannot find in modern day. There's just so few films that really can compete. But even then, competing is not what this film wants, it's the portrayal of humanity that it wants to convey. I won't forget it.
