Invisible Nation helps to make Taiwan (more) visible (Film review)

 

Seen on the fourth day of my most recent Taiwan trip

 

Invisible Nation: Extended Cut (USA-Taiwan, 2024)

- Vanessa Hope, director and co-producer (along with four others)

 

I first heard about Invisible Nation soon after its September 2023 debut at the Woodstock Film Festival.  But with things being the way they now are in Hong Kong (with not only a number of Hong Kong protest documentaries not being allowed to be screened in cinemas but, also, certain films from Taiwan and elsewhere that were apparently adjudged to have breached the national security law), I held little hope of being able to view this documentary about Taiwan that was shot for the most part during Tsai Ing Wen's presidency. (Filming of the documentary began in May 2017, one year after she assumed office.)

 

So imagine my surprise upon discovering earlier this week that that which is listed as the extended cut of the film (yet is 82 minutes long, in contrast to the 85 minutes listed length (on IMDB) of the original version!) made available on the PBS platform is available to view in Hong Kong (as well as the USA) sans VPN!  And to confirm that, as of a few minutes ago, this documentary remains available to view, and for free too!

 

Invisible Nation begins with beautiful, peaceful vistas of a green tropical land with seas and urban along with rural scapes.  It then proceeds to show a smiling Tsai Ing Wen meeting school students and telling them that she hoped to learn from them "what you hope your country can do for you."  

 

Right there and then, it's made clear that Taiwan is a distinct place, and most definitely a democracy.  So one feels quite the frisson when the film then follows up with a view of The Great Wall of China and the sound of Chinese leader Xi Jinping stating that "Taiwan is part of China".  The People's Republic of China, it is implied.  In other words: non-democratic, authoritarian, Communist China.

 

Over the course of Invisible Nation, one also learns of how, in addition to denying that Taiwan is an independent nation, the government over in Beijing does its utmost to deny Taiwan visibility in the world -- and how the world for the most part, including world organizations like the United Nations and International Olympic Committee and other international sports bodies, goes along with it; with Taiwan not being a member nation of the United Nations, and Taiwanese sportsmen and sportswomen having to compete these days in international tournaments under the name "Chinese Taipei" and the Taiwanese national anthem not being allowed to be played when Taiwanese athletes win at the Olympics.

 

Despite it looking to be a David versus Goliath battle, Taiwan -- especially during the presidency of Tsai Ing Wen -- is not taking all this lying down.  (Why would it?  Especially when we know that in the Old Testament tale, David beat Goliath!)  And what Invisible Nation also makes clear is that Taiwan's existential struggle is two fold: with one part involving Taiwan working to stay politically independent and democratic; and the other part telling Taiwan's story to the world.

 

With Invisible Nation helping to fulfill the latter task, it's easy to see that there are people who will accuse it of being a propaganda work.  And for sure, Vanessa Hope does present Taiwan in a friendlier light than the People's Republic of China.  Ditto with regards to Taiwan's first female president (who, after serving two terms, has been succeeded by her vice-president, William Lai Ching Te -- as an afterword in the extended cut points out) being presented in a more favourable manner than Communist China's "president for life" (who assumed the offices of General Secretary of the Chinese Communist Party and Chairman of the Central Military Commission back in 2012)!

 

At the same time though, Invisible Nation does present facts and figures, not just biases and vibes.  The documentary also does provide a historical perspective and portrait of a culturally diverse people that is helpful in allowing people to understand the overall situation and picture; one that, frankly, can come across as very complex and complicated, and overwhelm those who come into a viewing of this film with (next to) zero prior knowledge of East Asia -- though my own sense is that Vanessa Hope pitched this at just the right level, so that you don't have to be a complete East Asian political wonk to be able to comprehend and follow it all!

 

My rating for this film: 8.5          

A documentary about Noh and a feature film set in Kabukicho at the Hong Kong International Film Festival (Film reviews)

  

There still are (a few) films having their world premiere

at the Hong Kong International Film Festival

 

A HKIFF photographer taking photos of The Path of Soul's

director, Cheuk Cheung (and interpreter Joanna Lee?)

 

The Path of Soul (Hong Kong-Japan, 2026) 

- Cheuk Cheung, director 

- Part of the HKIFF's Reality Bites program 

 

In the wake of Japanese films being pulled from a culinary-themed film program organized by the Leisure and Cultural Services Department this past December, some of us film fans wondered and worried as to whether there would be any Japanese offerings at this year's Hong Kong International Film Festival.  The answer, we found, is that there are some in the program but just a handful.  And there would have been even fewer if not for this Hong Kong-Japan co-production helmed by Hong Kong filmmaker Cheuk Cheung.  

 

Best known for his trilogy of Chinese opera documentaries (including My Way (Hong Kong, 2012) and Bamboo Theatre (Hong Kong, 2019)), Cheuk Cheung's latest film looks at the Japan's Noh theatre.  Multiple years in the making (with footage going all the way back to 2017), The Path of Soul focuses on Hikaru Uzawa and Hisa Uzawa, two female Noh performers who also happen to be a mother-daughter pair.     

 

Although it's mentioned in this illuminating work that 15% of Noh performers are female, director Cheuk mentioned during the post-screening Q&A session -- which, by the way was wonderful for all the questions being good and the answers detailed and really interesting! -- that many people, including Japanese folks, still don't realise that there are (professional) female Noh performers.  Something else that's pointed out in the The Path of Soul is that females were only admitted into the Noh theatre world after the Second World War.  Not long in the grand scheme of things then, in view of this Japanese theatre art having been performed since the 14th century!

 

Inevitably then, The Path of Soul spends time discussing the challenges that both the senior Hisa Uzawa and junior Hikaru Uzawa face as a consequence of their being female in a traditionally male world.  At the same time though, the viewer gets the sense that females in the world of Noh are becoming normalised by way of footage showing the Uzawas not only performing but also teaching Noh to young girls along with boys and men as well as women who all seem perfectly happy to obey their instruction.  And their spouses looking to support them in their endeavors too.

 

During the Q&A, Cheuk revealed that he knows some Japanese but also worked with an interpreter when filming, and conducting interviews that were filmed and screened as part of, this absorbing offering.  He also revealed that he and Hikaru Uzawa are good friends.  Which helps to explain how open the Uzawas were with him.  Though, interestingly, he also mentioned that he felt that the best interview he had with Hikaru Uzawa was one in which she spoke with her eyes closed during it!

 

My rating for this film: 7.0 

 

Meets the World (Japan, 2025) 

- Daigo Matsui, director 

- Starring: Hana Sugisaki, Kotona Minami, Rihito Itagaki, Kiyohiko Shibukawa, Yu Aoi

- Part of the HKIFF's Fantastic Beats program 

 

This ensemble film is an adaptation of a 2022 novel by Hitomi Kanehara, a writer who has explored serious, gritty subjects like pedophilia and self harm, and whose own life trajectory has been pretty dramatic and unconventional.  (Among other things, the daughter of an academic dropped out of school when she was just 11 years old and left home at age 15!)  

 

Having not read it (this not least because it's not been translated into English), I don't know if the novel version of Meets the World is serious and gritty.  But I can tell you that the film is far less so than might be expected, considering that its characters include a woman who works in hostess club and men who work in the male equivalent, one who has been spending time in a psychiatric facility and also ones who have spent significant portions of their lives contemplating suicide. 

 

Sometimes, this can work in its favour: in that, it's novel and actually pleasant to watch unlikely friendships form between Yukari (played by Hana Sugisaki), a 27-year-old bank worker who's also never had a boyfriend (thanks probably in part to her being super-immersed in yaoi fandom), and cool bar hostess Rai (portrayed by Kotona Minami) and her (sexually) sophisticated Kabukicho-based friendship circle, which include extrovert nightclub host Asahi (essayed by Rihito Itagaki), bar owner Oshin (played by Kiyohiko Shibukawa) and the charismatically melancholy Yuki (Yu Aoi playing against type). 

 

At other times though, it can feel like director Daigo Matsui is airbrushing elements that would add depth and logic to character story arcs and general proceedings.  This particularly so in the latter part of Meets the World when certain dramatic turns seem to come from out of the blue and throw the film for a loop.  This even more so when these "developments" are left unresolved and unexplained.

 

All in all, Meets the World works best when its characters are happy.  And innocent.  With my favourite moments and scenes in this emotionally all over the place movie being those where Yukari reveals and revels in her being a super fan of a manga that very amusingly has characters who are yakiniku (grilled meat) menu items that come in the form of handsome gay men!  

 

With regards to films that feature fans of yaoi: I must say I prefer BL Metamorphosis (Japan, 2022).  And with regards to cinematic adaptations of novels: it really would not be fair to compare this to Our Little Sister (Japan, 2015) -- because pretty much every movie is not as good as that.  But yes, well, I can't help thinking that if Hirokazu Kore-eda had directed this film, it most definitely would have been a far better offering than this promising-but-ultimately-rather-disappointing one from Daigo Matsui!

 

My rating for this film: 6.0       

Two very different documentaries viewed at the 2026 Hong Kong International Film Festival (Film reviews)

  

Advertising for the 50th Hong Kong 

International Film Festival seen around town

 

Ghost Elephants (USA, 2025)

- Werner Herzog, director-scriptwriter 

- Part of the HKIFF's The Masters program 

 

Some years ago, I was talking to a film programmer about what films are fine to be viewed on a small screen and what needs to be seen on a big one.  At the time, I thought that documentaries and domestic dramas didn't lose as much when viewed on home video than blockbuster epics.  He begged to differ, stating that all films have are best seen on a big screen since that's where they were made to be screened by filmmakers.

 

Over the years, I came to his way of thinking.  And particularly appreciate it when I get to view a film on the truly big screen at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre's 1,734-seater Grand Theatre -- as was the case with Werner Herzog's documentary about the epic journey undertaken in search of an elusive herd of elephants in Angola's hauntingly beautiful as well as ecologically very important Bié (aka Central) Plateau.

 

As is expected of a work by Herzog, Ghost Elephants is not a conventional documentary.  (Though having said this, as a friend noted, it is one of the veteran German auteur's more conventional offerings.)  This particularly so in his injecting and emphasising mystical elements -- by way of the San people (popularly referred to as "Bushmen") whose tracking skills can seem close to supernatural and also a local king's recounting of an ancestral legend involving an elephant that shed its skin -- to his documentation of what's effectively a scientific expedition led by zoologist-conservationist Dr Steve Boyes in search of what could well be currently the largest land animals on the planet and maybe even a previously undocumented elephant sub-species.

 

Something that can be endearing about Herzog is how so much seems to fascinate him.  In Ghost Elephants, it's not just the titular subjects but those who go in search of it, and the peoples of the foreign land that he encounters along the way.  And while the sight of the elephants are hard to ignore when they appear on screen, the Bié plateau along with other views of the African landscape are exquisitely filmed too, and come across as characters in their own right with parts to play in the story being told.

 

Speaking of story: along with the documentation of a magnificent scientific obsession (on the part of Steve Boyes) and the wonders of nature, Ghost Elephants also tell of humans' inhumanity in the treatment of Mother Nature; pointing out that casualties of Angola's so-called "civil war" included wildlife as well humans, and showing archival footage of a 1960s-era elephant hunt that involved shooting at them from a helicopter.  

 

Which has me thinking it's a curious, and lamentable, omission on Herzog's part that he didn't mention in the documentary that the Bié plateau was, as per the Wikipedia entry on it, "deeply affected by slavery, with estimates of as much as half the local population being enslaved in the mid-1800s".  Perhaps it will be the subject of a follow-up work from the filmmaker?  Though, to judge from what one sees in the film, the chances are higher that he will return to Africa to make a work focused on the San people, who he confessed out loud in Ghost Elephants to finding it hard to not over-romanticise!

 

My rating for the film: 7.0 

 

Do You Love Me (Lebanon-France-Germany, 2025) 

- Lana Daher, director and co-scriptwriter (along with Qutaiba Barhamji)

- Part of the HKIFF's Reality Bites program 

 

In the first few minutes of her documentary, Lebanese filmmaker Lana Daher explictly informs the audience of Do You Love Me that this work will not show events taking place in chronological order and that the effect may be disorientating -- but if so, it's on purpose.  What she didn't state in the work itself -- but I think should be clear by way of a look at the offering's title -- is that this also is a film that works best if the viewer engages with it emotionally as well as intellectually.

 

Clearly a labour of love by someone who loves Lebanon, Do You Love Me presents a history of a nation with no national archive by selecting from, and splicing, images and sounds from more than 20,000 hours of audiovisual footage spanning some 70 years.  Seven years in the making, this 75 minute work incorporates news and feature film clips, TV programmes, home videos, personal photographs in an initially dizzying and altogether ingenious way.

 

Through the eyes, ears and work of Lebanese people of various ethnicities, religions, ages and so on, we see the country's complexity, beauty, problems, horrors and humanity.  Viewers are treated to scenes of everyday life, scenes of violence, and even scenes of violence that, tragically, have become everyday.  (And yes, I am aware of what's happening to, and in, Lebanon currently.  Which makes it all the more important that Do You Love Me was made, and bittersweet to view.)

 

Like it does in the country of some 5 million people, Beirut -- where approximately half of the people live -- looms large in the film.  Director Daher does not hide that this city that's the 16th largest in the Arab world is socioculturally divided along religious lines but also shows both the Christian and Muslim sides, in joyous as well as unhappy scenes, and always with humanity.

 

Although it effectively begins with scenes of the sea, it's the sense of humanity that overwhelmingly courses through Do You Love Me.  Mesmerising and increasingly hypnotic, the choices of visuals and music are masterful.  And while I admittedly came away from this work still not knowing enough of Lebanon to love it, I must say that I do feel that I learnt enough to respect the people of Lebanon and feel that they deserve better, including more peaceful and good times than they are currently facing as well as have faced over the years and decades.  

 

My rating for this film: 8.0.    

I'm Right Here encourages, and rewards, persistence and doing the right thing (Film review)

  

Hong Kong International Film Festival and other event

literature available at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre

 

I'm Still Here (Brazil, 2024)

- Walter Salles, director

- Starring: Fernanda Torres, Selton Mello, Valentina Herzage, etc. 

- Part of the HKIFF's The Masters program

 

After having viewed a dud of a movie earlier in the day, I returned to the Hong Kong Cultural Centre a few hours later to view a second Hong Kong International Film Festival offering.  With a start time of 9pm, running length of 136 minutes and heavy subject, I hoped that I'm Still Here wouldn't be too hard going.  And so it proved, as Walter Salles delivered a cinematic gem that was thoroughly involving and appealed to my heart, soul and mind.

 

A period drama based on real life events, I'm Still Here is based on the memoirs of Marcelo Rubens Paiva, the only son of Brazilian politician and engineer Rubens Paiva and housewife turned lawyer-activist Eunice Paiva.  Set largely in Rio de Janiero in the early 1970s, when Marcelo was just a boy (played by  Guilherme Silveira for the most part; and Antonio Saboia as an adult), the film opens with scenes of people swimming in the sea and playing volleyball, and generally frolicking, on the sandy beach which the Paiva family home is within walking distance of and looks out to. 

The Paivas are depicted in the early section of I'm Still Here as a happy, loving, upper (middle) class (they employ a housekeeper) family -- comprising a cheery father (Rubens Pavia is played by Selton Mello), mother (Eunice is primarily portrayed by Fernanda Torres and later in the movie by her mother, Fernanda Montenegro) and five children -- whose home teems with life and regularly plays host to friends of the adults and children alike.  But with Brazil being under a military dictatorship (after the 1964 military coup which had sent Rubens Pavia out of congressional office), trouble lurks and the less optimistic among the people, including bookstore-owning friends of the Pavias, go into exile, if they are able to do so.

 

One night, a group of armed men descend on the Pavias' home and take the family patriarch away.  Eunice and the children -- bar for the eldest daughter, Vera (played by Valentina Herszage), who had been sent abroad for a year -- are effectively put under house arrest for a time. Later, Eunice and another older daughter, are taken away for questioning. And while the younger woman is returned home after 24 hours, Eunice ends up spending several harrowing days in a cell where she can hear screams and a room where she's interrogated whose floors are stained with blood.

 

After she is returned home but her husband is not, Eunice mounts a campaign to locate him and find out what's happened to him.  For the sake of her children, the youngest two of whom were still pre-teens, she tries to maintain a general sense as well as facade of normality but the tension, stress and fear is palpable and impossible to wish away.  And yet she determinedly carries on, refusing to rest until she uncovers the truth about what happened to her husband and, also, why.

 

Throughout it all, there's a sense of authenticity to the story and sincerity in its telling.  It's worth noting that director Walter Salles was one of the children who was regularly invited into the Pavia's house in Rio de Janiero, being close friends with the younger members of the family.  And that in Fernanda Torres, I'm Still Here has a lead actress who is absolutely masterful in portraying a woman who tries to mask her feelings, yet whose face periodically -- and heart-breakingly -- betrays her emotions.

 

Based on what I've seen, I'm Still Here rightfully won the Best International Feature Film Oscar this year.  I've not seen all the other films nominated for the Best Picture Oscar and performances nominated for the Academy Award for Best Actress.  They must have been absolutely fantastic; otherwise, this movie and its lead actress can count themselves very unfortunate indeed to not also got those awards.

 

My rating for this film: 9.0

Unreachable has a central premise that doesn't give it a ghost of a chance to be a good movie! (Film review)

  

Advertising for the Hong Kong International Film Festival

at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre 

 

Unreachable (Japan, 2025)

- Nobuhiro Doi, director

- Starring: Suzu Hirose. Hana Sugisaki, Kaya Kiyehara 

- Part of the HKIFF's Fantastic Beats program

 

With a 1,734 seating capacity and the largest screen of all of the Hong Kong International Film Festival venues, there is a sense that the films selected to screen at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre's Grand Theatre are the pick of the fest bunch.  I've had friends tell me that they focus on getting tickets for those fest offerings that play there and, often, this is a good, safe strategy.  But, actually, I've seen my share of duds -- or, at the very least, cinematic efforts that did not work for me, even if they did for some others -- there; including, very memorably in 2009, Tsai Ming Liang's I Don't Want To Sleep Alone, which sent many audience members who didn't walk out to sleep!

 

Very sadly, despite my wishing it was otherwise, Unreachable is another cinematic fail.  To be fair, I didn't notice any walkouts nor anyone falling asleep during its Hong Kong Cultural Centre screening.  But pretty early on, this Japanese film which had its international premiere at the Hong Kong International Film Festival revealed itself to be built on a, frankly, quite unbelievably far fetched premise and require a major suspension of disbelief to work that I was not prepared to grant it.

 

Probably because they realised what a problem its plot holes would pose, the film's publicists had asked reviewers in its home market to not reveal a crucial plot detail that's actually pretty integral.  But since it gets divulged pretty early on in Unreachable, I reckon it's okay to do so -- and, in fact, think it really is the responsible thing to do should anyone be reading this review to decide whether or not they want to pay to go watch this movie! So... *spoiler alert*... okay, abandon hope all ye who read further:   

Misaki (played by Suzu Hirose), Yuka (portrayed by Hana Sugimoto) and Sakura (essayed by Kaya Kiyohara) are former children's choir members who have lived and grown up together ever since... they were murdered by a man who entered their practice room and attacked the members of the choir.  So, while trio behave like fairly regular young adults (dressing fashionably, watching movies on TV, going to work -- in an office in the case of one, and aquarium in another -- or attending classes at university), they are GHOSTS who cannot be seen by humans!  More specifically, the three friends are only visible to one another (since we don't see their adult selves actually interacting with others in the film) and maybe a tortoise!  

 

After this revelation, do I need to really say anything at all about the movie's story?  I wish it was otherwise but it would really be a tall order to care or have one's heartstrings successfully tugged after finding this out, right?  

 

This is such a great pity since I know that Suzu Hirose (who I first saw and became a fan of when watching Hirokazu Koreeda's sublime Our Little Sister) can enchant; and, based on what I saw of them in this movie, her Unreachable co-stars, Hana Sugisaki and Kaya Kiyehara, also are very watchable, and not just because they are easy on the eye too!  Furthermore, these three actresses exhibit lovely chemistry; so much so that I hope that they get chances to work together again, on a better movie with a script that makes far more sense and thus would speak to me!  

Truly, there's a sense of a massive own goal and missed opportunity to make a far better movie here.  Aesthetically and visually, Unreachable is actually quite lovely -- with beautiful set designs (particularly of the spacious house the three young... ghosts live in) and attractive choices of locations as well as a generally good looking cast and crew. (Even the killer is much less, well, unpleasant looking than one might expect.)  I just wish that they all featured in a less hare-brained movie that really could only work if one's being not only super generous and tolerant but, also, prepared to stop thinking... about its silly central conceit! 

My rating for this film: 4.0.

The Wind (1928) blew me away upon my viewing it close to a century after its original year of release! (Film review)

  

Images of the 49th Hong Kong International Film Festival's

fest ambassador (Angela Leung) and filmmaker in focus (Louis Koo) 

abound in various parts of Hong Kong, particularly fest venues 

 

The Wind (U.S.A., 1928)

- Victor Sjöström, director

- Starring: Lillian Gish, Lars Hason, Montagu Love, Dorothy Cumming, Edward Earle

- Part of the HKIFF's Restored Classics program 

The Restored Classics program is one of my favourites of the Hong Kong International Film Festival.  Last year and the year before, Ernst Lubitsch's Kohlheisel's Daughters (Germany, 1920) and Lady Windermere's Fan (U.S.A., 1925) gave me a greater appreciation of the legendary filmmaker.  And this year, The Wind (U.S.A., 1928) has introduced me to Swedish pioneer filmmaker Victor Sjöström -- and given me an even greater appreciation of actress Lilian Gish, whom, thanks to the Hong Kong International Film Festival, I also got to view in recent years on a big screen in The Night of the Hunter (U.S.A., 1955).

 

The Wind marks the final silent film appearance of an actress who managed to make a successful transition to talkies and have a career that spanned 75 years.  Lillian Gish was in her mid 30s when this 1928 was made but she nonetheless is very convincing as a young, sheltered Southern belle who moves from Virginia to a section of the Wild West that's far windier than she, or most regular folks, can imagine.

 

Impoverished but genteel, Letty (Lillian Gish's character) goes to stay on a ranch with her cousin Beverly (played by Edward Earle) and his family.  Letty considers Beverly, who she refers to as "Bev" and is clearly fond of, to be like a brother.  But Beverly's jealous wife, Cora (essayed by Dorothy Cumming) is convinced that pretty Letty's trying to steal Beverly from her -- and gets even more upset when their three children seem to enjoy Letty's company more than their mother's.

 

Ironically, Beverly looks to be the only man who doesn't have eyes for Letty -- unlike Beverly's closest neighbours, Lige Hightower (portrayed by Lars Hanson) and a man known as Sourdough (played by William Orlamond), both of whom ask for her hand in marriage; and the rascally villain of the pic, cattle buyer Wirt Roddy (played by Montagu Love), who wants to get Letty into bed despite actually already having a wife of his own.  Pressured by Cora to get out from under Beverly's roof and get a man of her own, Letty agrees to marry Lige but their marriage appears doomed after Letty refuses to have it consummated; leaving Lige, who's actually a good man, albeit rough around the edges, feeling very disappointed, embittered even.

 

And then there's the wind.  Which can feel like the closest thing to a co-star in this film for Lillian Gish.  (By the way, The Wind is not a 100% silent film like, say, Yazujiro Ozu's I Was Born, But . . (Japan, 1932) -- in that it may have no dialogue but it sure has sound effects along with a musical score.  And it also has visible wind effects that are pretty strong, impressive and dramatic!)

 

Early on in the film, Letty is informed that the wind -- which can seem like it's being referred to with capital letters (i.e., as The Wind) -- can drive women insane.  And it does threaten to do just that to Letty -- not only because it blows so much dust into the houses and seems to throw it in chunks at the windows but because it howls like crazy, and can also produce cyclones and other strong winds that can rip tiles off roofs and even bring (parts of) structures down!

 

In summary: The wind in The Wind is amazing to behold; and so is Lillian Gish.  Both come across as formidable forces of nature that command the screen; and their performances (okay, "performance" in the case of The Wind) look to have stood the test of time, and definitely play big parts in this 1928 movie still being immensely watchable and entertaining close to 100 years after its original year of release!

 

My rating for this film: 8.0

Still really f**king loving Hong Kong on the 5th anniversary of the 1 million strong anti-extradition bill march (Photo-essay)

This past June 4th, I was out and about in various parts of Hong Kong in the afternoon.  In Victoria Park, where the June 4th candlelight vigil regularly and officially took place through to 2019, I encountered a crazy amount of cops.  

 

Earlier today, the 5th anniversary of the 1 million anti-extradition bill protest march, I was in Victoria Park and elsewhere in Hong Kong again.  To my surprise, I didn't see many cops out and about at all.  Consequently, I felt emboldened to effectively walk once more from Causeway Bay to Admiralty this afternoon -- during which I came across some interesting sights enroute.

 

I know that, from the outside, it might seem that Hong Kongers have given up their fight for, and dreams of, democracy and justice.  But, honestly, I feel like I regularly see signs to this day that this is not the case.  Today, I present to you some of them -- and if they seem on the overly humble and trivial side, remember that there are now not one but two security laws in force in Hong Kong, and the penalties for being adjudged to break them are very dire indeed.   

Spotted earlier this week -- and, in all likelihood,

scribbled in recent weeks or months (as it's so fresh looking!)

 

The same message, less clearly written, spotted earlier today

 

A message (Keep Hong Kong Free) that I'm going to assume 

is from 2019, but is still visible in 2024

 

Also from 2019 -- barely discernible in 2024 but I feel

like I can make out an "Add Oil HK" there

 

Far more clearly, rendered in Chinese characters:

"Hong Kong people, add oil"

 

Also from 2019 but much more clearly visible, 

if you know where to find it

 

Good words to live by

 

It may not always be clear but yeah, 

we still really f**king love Hong Kong

The 35th anniversary of the 35th of May

  

In memory of the victims of the Tiananmen Square Massacre

 

Hong Kong still remembers.  We are no longer allowed to hold candlelight vigils in Victoria Park to commemorate June 4th.  But we still most definitely remember, and many of us still have lit candles and mourned this evening -- these days, for what has been lost in Hong Kong since China imposed a national security law on Hong Kong (on June 30th, 2020) as well as was lost in Beijing all those years ago. :(

The first six Article 23 arrests get people thinking all the more of June 4th (and this even while it's still only May)!

  

Victoria Park one week before the 35th anniversary

of the Tiananmen Square Massacre

 

I had a dream last night in which Lee Cheuk-yan, was walking around talking to people at an event I was attending; prompting to wonder to myself, "Wait, isn't he supposed to be in prison?"

 

For the record: I don't normally dream about public figures/political prisoners.  But I guess my subconscious turned my being all too aware that we're just one week away from the 35th anniversary of the Tiananmen Square Massacre into a dream about the former chair of the Hong Kong Alliance in Support of Patriotic Democratic Movements of China: that is, the organisation behind the (once) annual June 4th candelight vigils in Victoria Park -- the last of which I was at in 2019.   

 

One reason why I may have been thinking of the upcoming Tiananmen Square Massacre anniversary last night was because yesterday afternoon, as the bus I was taking passed by Victoria Park, my attention was caught by a greater police presence than usual on an edge of the public park.  It's nothing compared to what I imagine will be the case come June 4th (or probably even this weekend -- the weekend leading up to it) based on what's happened in recent years.  

 

And this on top of the now usual "refurbishments" being made at this time of the year to the football pitches where the June 4th candelight vigils used to take place.  Oh, and this year, there's also a very "red" looking event scheduled to take place in the area too -- one whose advertising mentions the dates 6/1, 6/2, 6/3 and 6/5 but not 6/4!  (For those who didn't realize: the Chinese way of writing dates is like the American one in placing the month before the day.) 

 

And after today's events, I'm thinking I'll be dreaming tonight of Lee Cheuk-yan's erstwhile Hong Kong Alliance comrade and fellow poliical prisoner, Chow Hang-tung -- who was one of the six people arrested today by the Hong Kong national security police "on suspicion of acting with seditious intention", marking the first apprehensions under the city’s new security law, which was enacted this past March.  (And yes, here's confirming that she, who already is behind bars, was arrested again... and for an alleged crime involving social media posts... even though she does not have access to a computer while behind bars!)

Somewhat bizarrely, "Secretary for Security Chris Tang confirmed... that the arrests were made in connection with a Facebook group that called for support for barrister and human rights activist Chow, who has been detained under the Beijing-imposed national security law since September 2021. The group was created on May 18, 2023, and the primary location for those that managed it was the UK.

 

It was also reported by the Hong Kong Free Press that: "The posts were said to have made use of an “upcoming sensitive date” to incite hatred against the central and Hong Kong governments, as well as the Judiciary. Police also alleged that the posts intended to incite netizens to organise or participate in illegal activities at a later time."

 

As Eero Kivistö, a self-described "guy from Finland posting random political ramblings", incredulously Tweeted in reaction to the news of Chow Hang-tung's further arrest: "Let me get this straight: an activist that has been detained since 2021 was arrested under a law that took effect in March? Seriously?"  Sadly, yes.  Also, this time around, the police arrested Chow Hang-tung's mother too!  (No, I am not kidding.  I wish I was but I'm not.) 

By the way, mention of Chow Hang-tung's mother got me thinking, of course, of the Tiananmen Mothers, the Chinese democracy activists promoting a change in the government's position over the 1989 Tiananmen Square protests and massacre led by the now 87-year-old Ding Zilin, a retired university professor whose teenage son was shot and killed by government troops during the protests. (What can I say?  That's how my brain works!)  

 

It's pretty incredible that they've sought justice and change for some 35 years now.  And while it's incredibly sad that their pursuit has thus far been in vain, they really are to be admired, if not supported, for their persistence throughout the three and a half decades.

 

As are the likes of Lee Cheuk-yan and those Hong Kongers who have sought the same -- and for many, the same amount of time.  And have been persecuted for doing so.  A Hong Kong Democracy Council Tweet noted that: "[With] today's 6 arrests there've been in all 76 arrests in #HongKong for commemorating #June4 #TiananmenMassacre since candlelight vigil was banned in 2020. Chow Hang-tung's been arrested 4 times for marking June 4 & is awaiting trial on remand for her role as organizer of the vigil".

 

I'm willing to bet that before 2020, no one in Hong Kong was arrested with regards to commemorating the Tiananmen Square Massacre. This not least because the annual candlelight vigils in Victoria Park were peaceful affairs; with the tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of people who took part in them being there to mourn, remember and honour the dead doing so in a thoroughly respectful and respectable manner.

By the way, the authorities can't seem to bring themselves to actually name the "upcoming sensitive date".  I trust that I've written the date enough times in this blog entry so that there's no mistaking which date is the one that is in question and at issue here.  Also, to be clear: despite their efforts to make it so, I sincerely doubt that Hong Kong has become part of the People's Republic of Amnesia -- or will anytime soon.  This not least because all their attempts to stop people commemorating June 4th only get people remembering it all the more!

They Shot the Piano Player compares favourably to a number of Oscar-winning works! (Film review)

 

My life in Hong Kong: film festing, and way too ubiquitous 

police presence (See the police van on the 

other side of the road from the HKIFF advertising?) :S

They Shot the Piano Player (Spain-France-The Netherlands-Portugal-Peru-U.K., 2023)

- Fernando Treuba (who's also wrote the script) and Javier Mariscal, directors

- Voice actors: Jeff Goldblum, Tony Ramos, Abel Ayala, Roberta Wallach

- Part of the Hong Kong International Film Fetival's Animation Unlimited program 

 

The last animated movie I viewed prior to viewing this multinational offering was Hayao Miyazaki's The Boy and the Heron (Japan, 2023).  I realise it's unfair to compare these two very different cinematic offerings -- but if I did so, I'd say that I actually liked They Shot the Piano Player better, and am surprised that it didn't even get nominated for the Animated Feature Film Oscar that the Studio Ghibli production won this year.

 

Speaking of Oscar nominated animated works: Persepolis (France-U.S., 2007) is one of three works I got to thinking of when viewing They Shot the Piano Player; with the other two being the non-animated Academy Award winners Searching for Sugar Man (2012) and Missing (1982).  For like Vincent Paronnaud and Marjane Satrapi's work about a girl growing up in Islamic Revolution-era Iran, this offering from Fernando Teruba and Javier Mariscal is an animated docudrama -- in the latter case, about an American journalist trying to figure out what happened to a musical hero who appeared to have vanished into thin air, a la Searching the Sugar Man's Sixto Rodriguez, in a foreign, South American country similar to the fictional one that's the setting for Costa-Gavras' Missing.

 

It's 2010 and New York music journalist Jeff Harris (voiced by Jeff Goldblum) is planning on writing a book about the Brazilian bossa nova craze of the 1960s.  Early on in his research, he comes across a recording featuring the piano playing of Francisco Tenório Júnior and determines to learn more about this Brazilian musical talent.  

 

On research trips to Brazil, Jeff interviews illustrious Brazilian bossa nova musicians like Gilberto Gil, João Donato and Chico Buarque (voicing themselves in the movie) about their music, and memories of Tenório Júnior.  At some point, he changes the subject of his planned book to the piano player whose music, life and mysterious disappearance back in 1976 he has become well nigh obsessed with.  And eventually, he is able to piece together the tragic story of a much beloved musician and man who went missing while on tour in then dictator-ruled Argentina -- leaving behind a wife, children, mistress and many friends mourning his disappearance from their lives.

 

At one level, They Shot the Piano Player is a enthralling dramatic investigation into what happened to a piano player who look to have unwittingly got involved in South American politics, to his great detriment.  At another, it's a chilling indictment of totalitarian regimes and their state terrorism -- which, in South America, led, among other tragedies, to the "disappearance" tens of thousands of people, many, if not all, of them innocents.  At the same time, it's also a beautifully hand-drawn work that's a thoroughly affecting celebration of bossa nova, and the life of Tenório Júnior.

 

It is very much to its makers' credit that they attempted to do so much, and succeeded in doing so.  A feast for the eyes and ears, this work -- which also happens to be tri-lingual (English, Portuguese and Spanish) -- is also heart-breaking and heart-warming at different parts of its story -- which, it is worth emphasizing, is, at heart, non-fiction. (The fictional bit comes from the man who became obsessed with the story of Tenório Júnior -- so much so that he kept at it for some two decades! -- being not Jeff Harris but the film's co-director and scriptwriter, Fernando Trueba -- and instead of writing a book about the Brazilian musician, he made They Shot the Piano Player!)

My rating for this film: 9.0

Masked Hearts won me over by being quirkily revelatory (Film review)

  

 I viewed four of this year's Hong Kong International Film Festival

offerings at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre :) 

 

Masked Hearts (Japan, 2023)

- Yuya Ishii, director and writer

- Starring: Mayu Matsuoka, Masataka Kubota, Koichi Sato 

- Part of the Hong Kong International Film Festival's Fantastic Beats program 

The second Japanese film I viewed at this year's Hong Kong International Film Festival differs in so many ways from the first. For starters, whereas Takeshi Kitano's Kubi is set in the past, focuses on middle-aged (or even older) men (specifically warring, plotting samurai lords) and has a lot of extreme violence, Yuya Ishii's Masked Hearts is set in the present day, has a young adult female protagonist and doesn't boast much violence (especially on screen!).  

 

Something else I got to thinking when viewing this comedy-drama -- that began as the story of a young female filmmaker in Tokyo confronted with sexism and ageism but then switches to becoming a work about her and her dysfunctional family after she decides to return home to make a movie with her father and two brothers -- is that, whereas Kubi is the sort of Japanese film that would get screened at Asian film festivals in the West, Masked Hearts isn't.  But/and is the kind of movie that Hong Kong audiences, both at film fests and in cineplexes, eat up.      

Having just viewed Norris Wong's The Lyricist Wannabe (Hong Kong-Taiwan, 2024), I saw parallels early on between the young Hong Kong woman aspiring to break into the music industry and Masked Hearts' Hanako (played by Mayu Matsuoka).  Specifically, both of the films' protagonists are romantics doggedly pursuing their dreams -- that, if they were Hollywood movies, would have a predictable trajectory.  But since they aren't, their narratives actually end up having quirky elements and interesting twists.

 

Among those quirky elements is the romantic interest added to Masked Hearts by way of the kind-hearted Masao (essayed by Masataka Kubota) -- who works in a slaughter house, and has a fondness for the ridiculously small "AbeMasks" handed out to Japanese households early on in the pandemic -- entering Hanako's life. More supportive than conventionally romantic, he goes with Hanako when she returns to the family home where her father, Osamu (portrayed by Koichi Sato), now lives alone.

 

A man of few words, Osamu turns out to be a man of many secrets.  And someone who loves his children -- elder businessman son Seiichi (played by Sosuke Ikematsu) and younger Catholic clergyman son Yuji (Ryuya Wakaba) as well as Hanako -- very much.  Suffice to say that all this gets revealed in the final third section of this ultimately pretty satisfying movie.  

 

Granted that it's not perfect and doesn't reach the heights of The Great Passage, the movie that Yuya Ishii's most well known for.  But the fact of the matter is that this (re)viewer still did come out of the fest screening of Masked Hearts -- held over at the Hong Kong Culture Centre's magnificent +1,700 capacity Grand Theatre -- with a smile and positive feeling that, even in a world where tragedy does occur, there still is much that's good in it, including people who may outwardly seem flawed but actually turn out to have quite a bit (of love and care) to give. :)

 

My rating for this film: 7.0.                             

Article 23 has come into effect, and already been wielded

  

The kind of bookstore I wish could flourish in Hong Kong

 

Article 23 came into force last Saturday (March 23rd, 2024).  Even before it came into effect, yet another wave of fear had swept Hong Kong -- and with it, announcement of store closures and such.  Although pro-democracy/free speech Mount Zero bookstore announced its upcoming closure (at the end of March; i.e., this Sunday) some weeks back, it clearly is a victim of the double whammy that's Article 23 and the National Security Law China imposed on Hong Kong on June 30th, 2020.

 

Over the weekend, I visited another of Hong Kong's remaining independent bookstores.  Even while some books that clearly showed its pro-democracy/free speech credentials remained on display, a staffer told me that they were other books that they had removed some others from their shelves while they waited to see where the new "red lines" were being drawn.  Put another way: they were anticipating that the "red lines" would be further tightened and there be less space for free speech and such in the city; and also waiting, like other Hong Kongers, to see Article 23 being wielded against people.

I must admit that a part for me was imagining horrors like mass arrests taking place at the stroke of midnight or pre-dawn on Saturday -- and was already counting my blessings later that day and Sunday that nothing directly Article 23 related had happened over the first 48 hours or so.  On Monday evening, however, I heard rumblings that something untoward had happened involving a jailed activist-protestor; and confirmation came along yesterday that Ma Chun-man had been denied the early release from prison that his family and friends who went to wait for him to come out of the Tong Fuk Correctional Institution on Monday thought he would be given.

 

Known as Captain America 2.0 (because he often dressed up as the Marvel superhero during the 2019 pro-democracy protests), "Ma was convicted in 2021 for inciting secession and was initially sentenced to five years and nine months.  He appealed and the sentence was reduced to five years due to good behavior, earning him a one-third remission".

 

All this was before Article 23 came into effect, however.  And "While the city's law stipulates eligible prisoners can be released before their term ends, the new security law allows the government to deny such rights."  Which is what happened; making Ma the first known case of an individual denied freedom and penalised under Article 23.

Some further details from the Nikkei Asia article reporting this: "Ma Chun-man, a former delivery man who was found guilty of inciting secession on at least 20 occasions in public and on social media between August and November 2020. Ma was accused of chanting slogans advocating independence from China." Read that again: he CHANTED SLOGANS. (In other words, we are talking about speech crimes.)

 

Quoting again from the Nikkei Asia piece: "The new security law is more comprehensive than one that was imposed by Beijing in June 2020 to punish secession, subversion, terrorist activities and collusion with a foreign country or external forces that endangered national security. The new law includes treason, insurrection, theft of state secrets, sabotage against public infrastructure, including computer systems, and external interference in domestic affairs."  

 

At the same time, it's worth noting that Hong Kong's Basic Law also includes the following Articles:

Article 27:  Hong Kong residents shall have freedom of speech, of the press and of publication; freedom of association, of assembly, of procession and of demonstration; and the right and freedom to form and join trade unions, and to strike.

 

Article 28:  The freedom of the person of Hong Kong residents shall be inviolable.

No Hong Kong resident shall be subjected to arbitrary or unlawful arrest, detention or imprisonment. Arbitrary or unlawful search of the body of any resident or deprivation or restriction of the freedom of the person shall be prohibited. Torture of any resident or arbitrary or unlawful deprivation of the life of any resident shall be prohibited.

Article 29:  The homes and other premises of Hong Kong residents shall be inviolable. Arbitrary or unlawful search of, or intrusion into, a resident's home or other premises shall be prohibited.

Article 30:  The freedom and privacy of communication of Hong Kong residents shall be protected by law. No department or individual may, on any grounds, infringe upon the freedom and privacy of communication of residents except that the relevant authorities may inspect communication in accordance with legal procedures to meet the needs of public security or of investigation into criminal offences.

It remains to be seen though how strongly they will be upheld, especially vis a vis Article 23.  So, please, don't look away from what's happening in Hong Kong -- the original title of Humans Right Watch's Acting China Director Maya Wang's piece in the New York Times which bemoans, among other things, that "visitors to Hong Kong often fail to recognize the transformations taking place beneath the enduring glitz of the city", and cites a recent Pew Research Center survey having found that "more than 80 percent of Hong Kongers still want democracy, however remote that possibility looks today".