Love in a Twilight City: Negotiating Identity in Hong Kong's Queer Cinema
It is hard to tell the story of Hong Kong, and even harder to tell the story of its LGBT+ community. Cinema has long been a refuge for the underrepresented to express themselves and share their stories with mainstream society. To Hong Kong, however, queer cinema is inevitably intertwined with subtexts concerning the city’s political trajectory. After the British government transferred Hong Kong’s sovereignty to China in 1997, it left an unresolved question of how individuals should come to terms with their new identity. Neither comfortable with the state nor with how society perceived them, the LGBT+ community and queer cinema struggled to find their voice in the post-Handover era.
27 years later, queer films in Hong Kong are gaining momentum as society has expressed more tolerant views on LGBT+ issues. While this breakthrough is much welcomed, the subject matter of these films is drastically different from pre-1997 films. Just as there is no singular way to love, there is no uniform narrative to tell these individuals’ stories. Queer cinema encompasses a spectrum of genres and non-conforming representations, each pertaining to an issue within the LGBT+ community (Leung, 2012). What becomes interesting then is the multiple identities represented in films. How far has queer cinema in Hong Kong come to carve its place in the cultural landscape? Where do queer individuals situate amidst political turmoil? To answer these questions, we must first understand how queer cinema has developed in line with Hong Kong’s political climate.
Happy Together? Towards an Uneasy Reunion
1997 to Hong Kong is not a watershed but a catalyst for change. Much like the quote above, nothing about Hong Kong’s future was certain except for the unchangeable fact that China would take over. With the impending Handover looming over everyday life, queer films incorporated themes of nationality and belonging in their mundane portrayals of same-sex relationships (Chan, 2022). Happy Together (1997) directed by Wong Kar-Wai best illustrates the juxtaposition of national identity and queer sexuality.
Setting the scene in Argentina in the late 1990s, Happy Together depicts the tumultuous relationship between Ho Po-Wing (portrayed by Leslie Cheung) and Lai Yiu-Fai (portrayed by Tony Leung). Journeying from Hong Kong in search of the Iguazu Falls, the couple broke up in Buenos Aires and reconciled but eventually separated again for good. The subheading of this film A Story About Reunion summarises the plot better than its original Chinese title 春光乍洩, which means the sudden exposure of an intimate moment. Indeed, instead of focusing on homosexuality, the film uses the characters’ experience of displacement and alienation as an allegory for Hong Kong’s reunion with China.
Opening with a shot of Ho’s British National (Overseas) passport, the film signals to viewers that this is a story more than the reunion of two individuals. One interpretation reads the main characters as two irreconcilable sides of Hong Kong: Ho, who stays in Buenos Aires without a passport, represents the “eternal exile and diaspora”; whereas Lai, who returns to Hong Kong, reflects those who are ambivalent about staying adrift and yearn for a stable home (Berry, 2018). Another interpretation infers that Ho and Lai's failed dream of building a forever home is transcendence from a lustful desire to nostalgia for an impossible homeland (Chow, 2007). All interpretations are valid, but what they share in common is the unnerving sense of marginalisation and uncertainty about one’s identity. It is not the film’s intention to offer a conclusive ending, which echoes how it was released five months before the Handover in July 1997 (Tambling, 2003). In this case, the romance between the characters is never an affirmation of homosexuality. Rather, they symbolise the negotiation of one’s relationship with the state. In the end, Happy Together captures more than the moments of sweetness between Ho and Lai — it also questions the possibility of a “happy together” between Hong Kong and China.
Lai visited Iguazu Falls alone before returning home, leaving the couple’s dream of seeing the waterfall together forever a fantasy. Source: Happy Together
Shall Everything Be Fine? New Identity, Old Personal Struggles
Queer cinema in post-1997 Hong Kong continued to examine issues of belonging and identity, though in a subtler way than before to avoid censure from authorities. When The Mainland and Hong Kong Closer Economic Partnership Arrangement (CEPA) was signed in June 2003 to foster bilateral trade, it marked a new era of collaboration between Hong Kong and mainland China’s film industries. Using CEPA as a stepping stone to break into the enormous Chinese market, local filmmakers altered their production style to cater to Chinese investors’ interests. This effectively resulted in the absence of queer subjects in collaborative films as China did not tolerate the promotion of queer ideologies (Chan, 2022). Underfunded and lacking resources, queer cinema could only exist as independent films which restricted their number and scale of production. Queer filmmakers single-handedly initiated most films produced since there was virtually no incentive for the industry to feature LGBTQ+ issues (Leung, 2023). As such, queer cinema in the present takes an autobiographical approach to turn these directors’ everyday struggles into stories that resonate with local audiences.
Twilight’s Kiss (2019, directed by Ray Yeung) centres on the romance between two elderly men who spent the majority of their lives in the closet. The film’s original title 叔·叔 (Uncle·Uncle) conjures the image of two grown men which in turn conveys traditional society’s discomfort with two men’s union. The main characters Pak, 70, and Hoi, 65, had to choose between their desires or staying in the closet to maintain the illusion of a harmonious family. Unlike its predecessors, Twilight’s Kiss does not interrogate the meaning of national identity but instead stresses the tension of queer individuals conforming to traditions. This internalisation of conflict continues to Yeung’s newest film All Shall Be Well 從今以後 (2024). Featuring Angie and Pat, a lesbian couple of more than 40 years, the film explores the meaning of family as Angie deals with the aftermath of Pat’s death. As Angie is not recognised by the law as Pat’s spouse, she finds herself entangled in the battle of inheritance with Pat’s family since same-sex couples are not entitled to inheritance rights. Hong Kong viewers will find these struggles with family members relatable, but what makes the film unique is how it problematises this familiar trope by putting it in the context of the LGBTQ+ community. Without the depiction of a dramatic romance or a scandalous love scene, the film reminds viewers that the community is like any ordinary citizen overcoming hardships in the banality of life.
Is this change in narrative direction for better or for worse? Before making a judgement, it is important to remember that films are a product of their own time. Pre-1997 films tend to use queer characters as a device to examine a broader issue and hence externalise one’s identity. Moving forward, queer cinema in recent years has worked around Hong Kong’s complex political landscape by opting to offer viewers a glimpse into the inner world of the LGBTQ+ community to internalise the identity crisis (Chan, 2022). Regardless of how filmmakers approach the subject matter, what remains clear is that the narrative of queer people in films is constantly retold, rewritten, and re-inscribed into Hong Kong’s vibrant cultural landscape.
It is these simple moments of life that flesh out queer characters as they are not solely defined by their sexuality but by their backgrounds and experiences. Sources: Twilight’s Kiss, All Shall Be Well
Finding A Way to Love in the Twilight City
In many ways, Hong Kong has existed in a twilight zone for decades: uncertain what the future holds but there is no way out, both in the 1990s and now in the post-National Security Law era. This ambiguity extends to its people, too, when they struggle to find their place in the city that can either head toward a promising future or downhill to decline. However, queer cinema persisted to represent the voice of non-conforming individuals who refuse to succumb to a prescribed narrative. From those of pre-1997 challenging the assurance of a seamless Handover, to now those spotlighting the marginalised struggles of daily life, queer cinema exists as a haven for the undercurrents of mainstream society to have the agency to define their place in their beloved city.
There are a myriad of queer films available in Hong Kong, and countless more stories to tell about its LGBT+ community. Unfazed by the changes in Hong Kong’s political climate, queer cinema continues to negotiate individuals’ identities with the state and with themselves in its journey to portray love in this twilight city.
Bibliography
Berry, Chris. (2000) ‘Happy Alone? Sad Young Men in East Asian Gay Cinema’, Journal of Homosexuality, 39: 3-4. DOI: 10.1300/J082v39n03_07
Chan, Wing. (2022) ‘向邊緣者借鏡:走在崎嶇路上的香港同志電影’, Verse. Available at https://www.verse.com.tw/article/film-2021-lan-yu (Accessed on 7th November 2024)
Chow, Rey. (2007) Sentimental Fabulations, Contemporary Chinese Films: Attachment in the Age of Global Visibility.
Leung, Helen Hok-Sze. (2008) Undercurrents: Queer Culture and Postcolonial Hong Kong.
Leung, Helen Hok-Sze and Wei, Nathan. (2023) ‘Queer cinema in Hong Kong, before and after 1997: Q&A with Helen Hok-Sze Leung’, The China Project. Available at https://thechinaproject.com/2023/09/20/queer-cinema-in-hong-kong-before-and-after-1997-qa-with-helen-hok-sze-leung/ (Accessed on 7th November 2024)
Tambling, Jeremy. (2003) Wong Kar-wai’s Happy Together.
Note that opinions expressed in the above article do not represent the stance of Asiatic Affairs committee members, Students' Union UCL or University College London. If you have read something you would like to respond to, please get in touch with uclasiaticaffairs@gmail.com.