Hong Kong, Hong Kong
The British “kitchen sink” films of the ‘50s and ‘60s set a new highwater mark for social realism amongst the working class. Focused on characters typically deemed unworthy of cinematic attention, struggling to survive in a society that looked down upon their very existence, these were movies that tackled subjects escapist fare would not. Fast forward a few decades to Clifford Choi’s Hong Kong, Hong Kong (1983), which embraces the same sympathy for the tired, poor, huddled masses entering the bustling city in hope for a better life…but finding instead an entirely different set of troubles.
Si Sun (Cherie Chung) is an illegal immigrant forced to use her body to pay for her room and board. But a chance meeting with a kind-hearted boxer, Yuen Sang (Alex Mann), adds a dash of hope to her drab existence. A matchmaker pairs her with a widower, promising an ID card if she can give birth to a son, but Si Sun’s relationship with Yuen Sang grows even stronger. With a big title fight in the offering, the two dream of escaping to America and starting a new life together.
Much like its main characters, Hong Kong, Hong Kong evolves as it progresses, starting as a downbeat slice-of-life then taking a sharp turn into Rocky-esque romance. But even with these narrative inconsistencies, the film never loses its emotional grip. Director Clifford Choi refuses to let the audience off the hook; for every moment of joy, there’s more pain waiting right around the corner. In much the same way the kitchen sink films forced us to look at reality rather than indulge in glossy wish fulfillment, Hong Kong, Hong Kong makes you realize that a happy ending isn’t guaranteed. Sometime the best we can do is cling to those fleeting moment of happiness we’re given.
Nominated for seven awards at the Gold Horse Film Festival – and winning for Best Screenplay – Hong Kong, Hong Kong gets the limited edition Blu-ray treatment from 88 Films featuring a transfer from the original negative, commentary by journalist David West, interview with Alex Mann, trailer, still, fold-out poster and slipcover.
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