Downloaded from YTS.MX
Official YIFY movies site: YTS.MX
I can make this a little thicker.
This is nice.
This one is a bit too much.
Great, this'll do.
... nominated for Best Supporting Actor in this film,
Ann Hui has won Best Director three times at the Golden Horse Awards.
A record holder in the category so far.
- Watch out, it's slippery. - I know.
- Let's take this path. - Okay.
I won't come out after I've gone inside.
Stop teasing me!
- This is muddy and slippery. - I'm okay.
I'll watch where I step. If I get distracted, I'll slip.
- Good morning, Director. - Good morning.
Watch out. It's best to walk on the unpaved road.
Don't put mud on the front, no one will see it.
More on the hair.
More here.
- Sorry for that, Xun. - It's fine.
All right, let's shoot.
Attention, all units.
Everyone, step back.
Hide from the camera.
Got it!
- Sorry! - It's all right.
Tian Li, which side of the road do you want them to walk on?
Or is this side better? In that case...
Try walking a little longer before you speak.
- Just deliver your lines. - Walk slowly or quickly?
Slowly.
Roll sound!
- Roll cam! - Rolling.
One, two, three. Action!
- Cut! - Good. Clapper!
I've called "Cut."
It's a good take.
I didn't notice that. I didn't. I've passed it.
I think I'll still be making films at 75.
I'm so excited to film in the New Territories.
I've longed to film here, but I've never been able to.
After we film, these villages will disappear.
So I treat them like antiques. I'm so happy.
- Is this the one? - Yes.
I'll go up and check. Just a quick look.
These locations are hard to find.
Ann insisted on shooting in Hong Kong.
One of the reasons is the landscape of Hong Kong.
That feeling can never be replaced by anything on the mainland.
Hong Kong audiences will immediately recognize it.
When the boat sails to this point, it'll move to the shore.
- Then go as far as it can. - Got that.
This is a very dangerous mission.
A boat is coming to pick you up.
It's supposed to depart at dawn.
You should look very relaxed, but in fact, it's solemn and tragic.
Moonlight casts a shadow on the ground
Kiddo, go to bed, be a good boy
Members of the East River Guerrillas hid their identities for 70 years.
No one thought about being a hero.
I think most of those who joined the rescue mission,
including triad members, fishmongers and students,
especially the less educated,
risked their lives, rather than just give money or offer help.
I think this is very unusual and very moving.
It's special,
not only in terms of their actions,
but also in terms of ideology.
It's emblematic of Hong Kong.
After the war, there were many accounts of Hong Kong people
working together by chance.
After that, they never met again.
It's natural for people to help each other.
It's because they're all refugees that they share this connection.
The connection among refugees has continued since then.
I came to Hong Kong in 1952.
We lived in the Model Housing Estates in North Point.
They're similar to public housing estates, but they weren't built by the government.
These are the Model Housing Estates. This is what our house looked like.
There's a lawn in the front.
These were our friends. They were Chinese-Indians.
These Model Housing Estates were rather international.
We had neighbors from Malaysia, Shanghai and India.
We were very close.
It's kind of weird to talk about one's "hometown."
When you mention a "hometown," it implies that you're away from it,
which means you're an immigrant.
Many people in China face this situation.
They may have residency in a certain province,
but their hometown is somewhere else.
Well, if that's the case, my hometown is Northeast China.
My family told me they named me On-wah because I was born in Anshan.
That's how I learned about my birthplace, but I have no idea what it's like.
I was about two or three months old when my parents
took me from the Northeast to Macau.
I stayed in my grandparents' home.
I went to kindergarten in Macau.
I entered Pui Ching Kindergarten at age three.
After that, my father went to work in Hong Kong.
Wild grass grows by the Red Sparrow Bridge.
The evening sun glows on Black Gown Lane.
Swallows that once graced the Wang and Hsieh Halls,
now nest and mate among common people.
Well done!
I have some candy for you.
If you practice every day, you'll never forget where we came from.
Grandpa and Grandma doted on her,
because when she was young, Grandpa felt she was very sensitive.
He'd hold her on the balcony to watch the birds.
He told her, "This bird has no mother, it's searching for its mother."
She'd cry her heart out. She was like that even as a kid.
She was not sentimental.
Just very sensitive.
Look at the pigeons.
They're scared of you.
Before I turned five, my life was good.
Grandpa often took me to the market to buy food.
He'd wear a changshan and go to the Red Market.
After that, he'd buy Chinese barbecue,
saving me a huge piece of barbecue pork.
It was unsliced, and he'd just put it in my mouth.
I'd still be chewing all the way home.
So much fun!
Watching her movies,
I discovered many important things from her childhood.
The little girl and her grandpa in Song of the Exile:
she was wearing a straw hat with a red velvet flower on it.
I remember she had one when she was young.
Ann was closer to our grandparents than to Mom.
And she was very stubborn when she was young.
When Mommy tried to discipline her, she would never shed a tear,
which made Mommy even more furious.
We were all afraid of Mommy.
Because she'd beat her.
She'd beat all three of us.
We were literally scared of her.
I remember Mother was a quiet and serious woman then.
No, I don't want a haircut!
Stop running!
Grandma! Grandpa!
One of the conflicts between Mother and her
was that Mother always required us to be neat.
I remember once we went to a banquet.
Mother insisted we wear the same dress made of lace.
She insisted that Ann tie her hair in a bun.
Ann said, "This is not me!"
Mom also wanted her to perm her hair.
Actually, they had different ideas of beauty.
She thought Mother would force it on her.
I was very sure I didn't like living with Mommy,
because she was very strict.
Once I was very sick.
This eye was all red. I also had a fever.
It was Chinese New Year.
Mom insisted that I must get up,
put on new clothes and sit in the living room.
I wasn't allowed to lie down.
When I was 16, my feelings toward Mom were...
How can I put it? Ambiguous.
I couldn't tell how she looked at things. There was no communication between us.
When I was small, I found her very mean and strict.
Later, I discovered she could barely read Chinese
and had very different habits from us.
We hated the Japanese when we were kids,
but she always liked Japanese things.
I found out she was Japanese only when I was 16.
My father was drafted by the Nationalists in the Northeast.
When we arrived, the Japanese were just retreating.
Mom was around 18 or 19 at that time.
She was looking for her brother in the Northeast.
Aren't they stylish?
We said they were both stylish. All three of us thought so.
You were stylish and pretty.
You're flattering me.
Soon after I arrived in Manchuria,
everything suddenly turned upside down.
It was really scary.
We dared not go out at night.
It was horrible.
There was an air raid when she was alone,
so she went in the street, following a group of refugees.
They took care of each other.
Then you met a girl
who worked where my father was stationed.
One day, she visited this girl and met my father.
Is that what happened?
More or less.
At that time, the Chinese and Japanese were enemies.
My grandparents forbade my mom to speak Japanese and tell anyone she was Japanese.
Under such circumstances, it was actually for her safety.
In mainland China, the war had just ended.
He married a Japanese woman. Good God!
Your father was so brave.
On top of that, I can imagine what your mother had to endure.
Just put yourself in her shoes.
She remained quiet in a Cantonese family because of her Japanese accent,
which would cause much resentment.
There's another thing we may all overlook:
she didn't understand a single word.
The impact on me after I discovered the truth was...
What an irony to be anti-Japanese! How ironic!
You kept telling people you hated the Japanese.
That the Japanese should go to hell. We must take vengeance!
But it turns out your mother is Japanese.
Song of the Exile is about the trip I took with Mom after my return from London.
My sister was getting married.
I accompanied Mom to the US and Canada to attend the wedding.
Then we went to Japan to visit relatives. It was 1975.
She seemed a totally different person there.
I'd never seen her so relaxed in Hong Kong.
After the Japan trip, Ann understood much more about Mommy.
Where she came from.
She never understood why Mommy was in such a state.
Just hold her for a while.
I remember. This is how your father put it.
"Be with me forever."
He never came back to Japan.
Instead, his daughter did.
Now I see.
The closer the bond,
the more distant you feel.
It used to take three hours to travel from Hong Kong to Macau.
Those big ferries had two decks. We were on the lower deck.
That's how Father and I came back to Hong Kong.
I remember very clearly looking at the sea.
The water was yellow.
And somewhere there was a dividing line
between the Pearl River and the sea.
It's like a wide shot
with Mom standing there wearing a pair of Western-style shorts,
a pair of slippers and a blouse.
It was a mixture of homewear top and shorts.
She stood there waiting for us.
We were given ten cents a day as pocket money,
plus 20 cents for the tram.
We lived in North Point, but studied at St. Paul's Convent in Causeway Bay.
We'd use the money for the tram to buy Popsicles,
then go home by foot!
We'd go through Victoria Park,
then walk along Electric Road.
Sometimes, having saved 50 cents,
we'd spend it on a bar of Nestlé Chocolate.
And a bag of peanut candy!
Every weekend, our parents would bring us to the movies.
I remember Waterloo Bridge.
The Love Parade.
And many others from our childhood.
I remember when I was around ten,
all my uncles would come around to read martial arts novels.
I began reading these novels when I was in 3rd or 4th grade.
When I was in 5th grade,
I'd already started reading The Legend of the Condor Heroes.
I followed the newspaper serial.
I liked to ask questions. I never sat quietly.
In 6th grade, or perhaps in elementary school,
we were studying the Uprising of the Five Barbarian Tribes.
I kept asking if we were barbarians.
The teacher was speechless.
I also asked what language we should use to read poetry.
Mandarin or Cantonese? What should it sound like?
- I kept asking. - You gave them a hard time.
I didn't mean to make trouble.
- I was just — - You were studious.
I was just trying to apply what I learned from the books to everyday life.
We were taught in kindergarten
that people would have tea in the afternoon.
But why do we yum cha in the morning?
Speaking of culture,
my grandpa was well-versed in classical Chinese.
My father was also a scholar.
They'd make me recite poetry.
I read a lot of Chinese literature when I was young.
My understanding was hazy.
My cultural foundation was definitely Chinese.
I think a good understanding of Chinese culture
and the Chinese language is definitely a good thing.
We all came across these things during our formative years.
Hong Kong is a meeting point between Eastern and Western cultures.
Excuse me!
I'm sorry, Susan. Sorry, Mary.
Pick that up.
Hey. We didn't do that on purpose.
We've picked up the books and apologized.
Don't go too far.
It's you again?
You think scholarships make you privileged?
Only two months here and you dare disrespect your seniors?
When she started at HKU,
she was often bullied into tears.
They had this awful tradition of bullying freshmen.
The best students received the worst abuse.
They knew of my sister and bullied her. It was awful.
Ann was not fashionable.
HKU students put up a front that they were free and easy.
"I'd rather have fun and no time to study."
If there was an exam, they'd say, "What the heck!"
And they'd still end up getting First Class. Everyone was like that.
If you were always uptight about studying,
that's what I mean about unfashionable.
Ann was that type.
She wanted people to know she was studious,
that she'd study for exams.
I'd call such behavior acts of anti-snobbery.
I think I was the most diligent student of my class.
How should I put it? Most of the students didn't go to lectures.
The more lectures you skipped, the more chic you were.
And I attended all of them. Every single lecture.
We skipped the lectures, we were so chic.
I remember something she told me.
It was hilarious. She said —
When she was a student, there were balls.
"Fuck it! No one would ask me to dance anyway.
I might as well bring a book to read."
Come, let's dance! Come on!
Like this, look at her.
Students in HKU at that time
only cared about a couple of things.
First, studying.
Second, dating.
- The latter didn't really concern you. - Correct. I was very envious.
I'd recite Shakespeare when I was drunk and scare everyone away!
I was with Tsui Hark and Nansun Shi.
They were shocked that I behaved like that.
They didn't say anything, but you could tell from their faces.
They never asked me out for drinks again.
We sail our skiff, frail as a leaf.
And toast with wine from a gourd.
We're nothing but insects in this world.
Mere specks of grain in the vast ocean.
I grieve because life is transient.
I envy the mighty ever-flowing river.
A solitary sail becomes one with the blue sky.
Li Bai saw his friend aboard the boat.
Disappearing into the distance.
The Yangtze flows on to the horizon.
What is left is only the Yangtze,
flowing to the edge of the sky.
Among all the directors I know,
she's one of the very few who's also an intellectual.
I strongly feel that directing is only her profession.
Her views on society, history, literature,
on film itself and on the human condition,
are more from an intellectual perspective.
If film is my wife or husband,
then literature is my mistress.
Many years ago, when I was studying at the London Film School,
I already knew her.
She was the only Chinese student who spoke Cantonese.
Now she prefers short hair. Back then it was this long.
A typical young intellectual.
She'd watch films at Studio One.
I was counting all the time.
When he was my age, Ingmar Bergman was already making his third film.
I'd then tell myself that, at my age,
I should've made that number of films.
I kept counting all the time.
After I returned from film studies,
I went taking photos everywhere with a camera.
I finished a roll of film and took it for processing.
I'd forgotten to take off the lens cap.
I wasn't aware of that at all!
He kept sneering at me.
She told everyone, "I studied film."
Yet she forgot to take off the lens cap and kept shooting everywhere.
The funniest thing is that she didn't realize at all.
While I was in the UK, Tsim Tak Lung introduced me to King Hu.
King was very bold to hire me. I knew practically nothing.
I'd only studied film for two years.
I had no practical experience at all.
Not to mention that...
I was totally unsophisticated, just a nerd.
Yet he said, "Come be my assistant director."
In his place, I wouldn't have dared.
I don't know why I never found Director Hu intimidating.
I was never awed because he never put on airs.
He was very open and generous in sharing knowledge.
And life experience.
He'd let you take part in many things,
but he wasn't trying to show it deliberately.
After I'd been working with King for a while,
my father wanted me to go to TVB.
I was a little hesitant to leave King, who treated me like his protégée.
A director I admired so much. I didn't like television.
Tsim encouraged me to take the step.
I remember he said, "One must take things in one's own hands.
Not rely on relationships."
At that time, TVB — The cultural development of Hong Kong
and the television industry was new. We were new too.
If you had the drive, you could always find something to do.
Many young women worked in television.
Film was more difficult though.
I was the female lead.
Ann called and invited me to act in a drama for RTHK.
I was taught to be open-minded.
Despite the fact that I didn't like being on camera,
I agreed to act in an episode of Below the Lion Rock, "The Bridge."
I watched a rerun several years later. I wanted to bury my head in the sand.
None of us here was able to go to school or work this morning.
- What about the new bridge? - The new bridge?
It took me 20 minutes to walk across. What the hell!
Let's go look!
I'll go back and see what I can do.
We're only responsible for the Wang Tau Hom district.
Kids are crossing the road below the bridge.
If they get hit, who'll bring them back to us?
- Baby! - Kiddo!
"The Bridge" was hugely controversial at that time.
The story fits Ann Hui's usual style.
She likes to base her stories on real-life cases.
It's a true event, which saw the people in Kowloon City
protesting against the dismantling of a footbridge.
They staged a protest sitting on the road.
It was very shocking at that time, in 1978.
Protest! Protest!
In those years, television was very close to everyday life.
It was a new form of entertainment and the most popular.
After dinner, even during or before dinner,
people turned on the TV once they got home.
Some content was taken from the news.
Today's headline could turn into a television drama two weeks later.
Refugees from Vietnam arriving in Hong Kong after July 2, 1982,
must be detained in closed camps.
Listen, we've arrived in Hong Kong.
Line up and wait. Keep quiet.
Come up only when you're told.
We'd never thought of using Vietnamese refugees as subject matter.
We had never considered it.
We couldn't even handle topics about Hong Kong, let alone a story in Vietnam,
so films like The Story of Woo Viet or Boat People,
all these films by Ann,
opened a new creative horizon.
Why did I make films about refugees?
Because refugees were flooding into Hong Kong.
I tried to tell their story from their viewpoints,
instead of treating them like news.
Why did I have this idea? I don't know why.
It had to do with identification.
You could identify with them and find truth in their stories.
You could picture them in your mind, you felt for them.
The girl was much more optimistic than me.
She believed that we'd arrive in America one day.
We'd settle down once and for all.
She'd already planned that she'd have her own house,
with her own kitchen,
and she'd cook us Vietnamese food.
We also decided to bring the kid from the refugee camp
and adopt him.
I'll rely on these hopes to complete my journey.
BLOODTHIRSTY FEMALE DIRECTOR
ANN HUI IS A TREASURE
YOUNG DIRECTOR
LIMITLESS POTENTIAL MAD AND FRENZIED
Please talk about your debut film.
It was very successful.
She became popular with her debut.
The Secret is an art film.
We hadn't started making films then.
When I started, she was already in the pantheon.
We all looked up to her.
For example, the title sequence of The Secret
features nuns chanting.
It was filmed like a commercial.
It was unlike
anything we'd ever seen on the screen.
It was unique, a totally different kind of style.
Ann's style in The Secret made nearly all the young filmmakers
at Shaw Brothers her ardent admirers.
These included me, young actors and assistant directors.
They all aspired to leave
Clearwater Bay and make New Wave films.
New Wave cinema consisted of 20 to 30 young filmmakers,
each making a debut at the same time.
There was a magazine called City Entertainment
featuring these new filmmakers.
Almost all of them had studied film abroad.
This trend brought about a big change in the film industry.
All of a sudden, there were many films
that were so refreshing to watch.
I don't think we deliberately attempted to create anything new.
It's just that we had a completely new background.
The production process of filmmaking was different from before.
Naturally, the results were different.
I was very excited to see The Secret,
because finally there was a female film director
who was narrating the story from a female perspective.
It also had an alternative style.
I was convinced that Ann
was the perfect choice to direct The Spooky Bunch.
When I started, I spent six months making Wonder Fun,
a documentary series on peculiar folk customs in Hong Kong,
all traditional practices passed on from the old days.
Things I'd never heard of or didn't know still existed.
Many of these customs naturally became
material for the films I would make,
because all these traditions are very visually enticing
and very meaningful.
When we were filming actors playing ghosts,
there was no time nor room for a tripod.
We could only use handheld and long takes.
It was crazy!
We shot in this location where there were no lights,
because we had a limited budget. It was below HK$1 million.
The cameraman used a small flashlight and a spotlight.
We could only see the actor below the backboard, nothing else.
That's how we shot it.
I got used to this method of filmmaking.
Even with all the resources, I wouldn't know how to use them.
I was second assistant director and continuity for The Spooky Bunch.
Wasn't The Spooky Bunch supposed to use an all-female crew?
Maybe they thought of me as a woman.
It was the first time I worked for Ann.
I've worked with her for years.
She didn't want her assistant director to be involved
in script writing and in preparing the shoot.
People today make films,
but I call it "mimicking filmmaking."
I needed to go against today's mode.
I often quarrel with my assistant directors.
Sometimes I don't care about the background.
Just call the shots!
But they would put many extras there, coaching them.
I wanted to kill them!
They can walk whenever they like. Come on, let's shoot!
This guy here cannot take a passenger. He's here waiting for one.
Find another guy!
Can you be smarter, please?
Those guys over there are doing fine. Why make them walk like robots?
Can't we be flexible when we shoot?
I've told you. That's not the only way to do it!
There are other ways!
You guys go and shoot it.
Those arguments on the set are for the good of the film.
They're part of a "smooth" shoot. They shouldn't be considered fights.
You shouldn't expect everyone to obey you.
In film school, we were taught to fight for what we wanted.
The key thing they taught us was to fight.
No fight, no survival.
So we fought.
Once we were in a group project —
The director was a girl, I was the editor,
and she kept giving me instructions for the edit. I refused.
She insisted, so I picked up the splicer that we used to splice the film.
It's this big thing made of iron.
I chased after her all the way downstairs, trying to hit her.
This incident was infamous.
I really meant it, no kidding. I told her to go away.
"I'll show you when it's done. Stop bugging me."
During which period were you the least modest?
When I first started at a TV station.
I was arguing every night and crying every night.
I was young then. People gave in when you cried.
So I cried on the set every night.
If I didn't get the shot, I'd throw a tantrum and cry.
When I did that, they all got scared.
That's so cheap.
She was really volatile.
Once, in those early days at TVB,
we went scouting for locations.
We arrived at a place across from a mountain.
We said, "How about if we all yell?"
When you're in an open space, you get the urge to yell.
Ann didn't yell like that. She...
She yelled like that.
Once, she suddenly lost control.
The location sound problem had to do with me.
She just yelled at me.
Then, when I arrived on the set the next morning,
she apologized.
"I know you were only doing your job. Sorry about yesterday."
To compensate for her tantrum,
she bought milk tea and pineapple buns for the whole crew.
She apologized to all of us.
"I shouldn't have behaved like that, please accept my apologies."
Then she bowed deeply.
Everyone joked and said, "Never mind."
We drank the tea she bought.
Later that evening, she flared up again.
She'd make a quick gesture and say, "Sorry, sorry."
This is the way she works.
Before she arrives, you must prepare all the materials —
if you have something to offer,
some stimulus, suggestions to give.
If she sees that you have different ideas, then she's willing to discuss them.
She won't insist on her own way. She's not like that.
If you can convince her, she'll listen
and change her original idea.
There may be another entrance. Ding Ling will be there.
We'll start with them standing over there.
There may be fewer people because it's too empty.
Maybe seven or eight people already boarded the train.
Tell me what you think after you hear my thoughts.
I don't mean that you must follow what I say.
I think it's quite nice, but because of its density —
- No. - The background may not look very good.
- Maybe place them in the middle? - Yes, with the blue and that density.
Fine, no problem. We'll go your way.
She's very flexible. She's not a perfectionist.
Nor will she go after what she wants at all costs.
She's open to changing anything, if necessary.
This "can do" spirit is a Hong Kong spirit.
She can always find a way to express her style,
and that style need not be perfect.
I always get into arguments
during location scouting in mainland China.
Whenever we find a spot, the art director or cinematographer
will tell me it isn't feasible because it's too small.
It makes me very angry. "Why can't we shoot here?"
I've shot in even smaller locations. Our experiences are different.
The thing that attracted us to mainland China
wasn't the size of its market, but its resources.
The seas, the mountains and the nature.
You want the Forbidden City? You get it. This is what Hong Kong lacks.
We only have Lobster Bay, the so-called sacred ground.
The Romance of Book and Sword offered me my largest canvas,
but I didn't know how to handle it.
I could shoot in 360 degrees. It's spectacular from every angle.
There are vast deserts, big mountains, boundless rivers and seas.
There's everything. How could I capture that?
I had a feeling I'd fail.
Book and Sword attempts to be a very realistic martial arts film.
A film worthy of Jin Yong's novel,
whose breadth, scope
and locations already posed many difficulties.
Back then, there were no large-scale studios
like Hengdian World Studios.
The actual shooting took a year.
We first shot in the south.
In Suzhou, Hangzhou and Yangzhou, followed by Xinjiang.
Then Shanxi.
Then Tianjin, Beijing.
Our crew was more than 20 people.
Our producer Jessinta worked so hard that she aged years.
Her face was covered with wrinkles! Everyone was sick.
We stayed together for a full year,
doing everything and helping each other.
I was truly apologetic for the result.
I was very depressed. I was very upset by the bad reception.
Ever since Love in a Fallen City, I'd been disappointed.
I didn't know how to regain
my confidence as a director.
Because of her background in literature, she is equipped
with an acute understanding of language and a lucid mind-set.
In those terms, she's far superior to her peers.
Yet she's somehow unable to apply this to writing scripts.
She insists on not writing her own scripts, even if she has an idea.
She'll ask frequent collaborators to write them.
If there are problems with the script, I won't think of how to improve it,
or if I should change the plot or the subject matter,
or what to do and what not to do.
I'll just think, "I must look for a better screenwriter."
Even if I have to beg him or her.
There are things that you should do yourself.
I feel guilty. I should write my own scripts.
I never did, because I'm afraid.
And I'd disappoint myself.
So I decided to leave it that way.
Directors receive screenplays written by others.
This also applies to such versatile filmmakers as Ann.
The films she makes are undoubtedly films she wants to make.
When we first met in our 30s or 40s,
I'm sure she must have had many offers.
She also started to develop her own projects
and look for her own path and stories,
sometimes not without compromise, until she found her own way.
I'm not a self-conscious filmmaker.
Nor a well-rounded one.
Very often, I have to weigh the pros and cons.
When someone makes me an offer, I accept if I feel comfortable.
Or when someone gives me a screenplay, I'll do it if I can identify with it.
This explains why some of my films are good, and some are not.
Still, I was able to make a living this way.
I've always felt, ever since I was in film school
and through the years I spent in television
up until my first three films, that I've been truly lucky.
When you think you're at the top of the game,
you plunge to the bottom for a decade.
When I was at my lowest point,
I felt I was going nowhere, like a zombie.
Still, I never thought of quitting or finding another job.
I was just looking around for investors and screenwriters,
hoping that if I could get a film made, I'd bounce back,
or perhaps I would make a very good film.
I don't know if that's self-deception or real.
It's basically a gamble.
I was listless, finishing one film and starting another.
They all turned out badly. What can you do?
Then one film became a success. But I work hard on every single film.
I've told her more than once that she's truly hardworking.
I couldn't help telling her that. I found that amazing.
Not many directors are like that.
She'd say, "Who gives a fuck how hard you work?"
Hong Kong is a very, very pragmatic place.
If you don't make money with your investment —
I remember when I was in Hong Kong,
when Tsui Hark and others were in their prime,
they told me the audience
would stand up and curse the film if they...
didn't like it.
"Who's the director? Come out! I'll chop him up!"
Things like that.
It's too bad she's a one-man band.
She didn't belong to any company or have any support.
It was like this: Golden Harvest had its own contracted directors.
So did Cinema City.
Always Good.
And D & B.
Ann seemed not to belong to any of them.
She always relied on herself, so she's at a disadvantage.
She often says,
"You should always treat each film as if it's your last."
It doesn't mean you'll die after you finish it.
No, it means you must assume no one will invest in your next film.
Do you know what life is all about?
What?
Life...
is all about fun.
Things got better with Summer Snow.
I was bumbling along, trying to find my own way.
William Chang once said a film director is like God.
Yim Ho said a film director is like a dog.
I think that over the course of all these years,
Ann has achieved a balance between God and dog.
Would you rather have success all along,
or sink to the bottom as I did during those years?
I have no regrets.
If I hadn't gone through that awful decade,
I wouldn't have had those life experiences.
I wouldn't have understood how other people lived
when they were unsuccessful.
To put it cynically,
as long as you don't die of poverty or frustration,
it's better than always having the wind in your sails.
It is $5 per tael.
Two catties. Since we are neighbors and you're so tall,
- you get a discount, make it $150. - What? You made a mistake.
- It should be $50. - $50?
- It says so here. - But those are dead fish.
That's why I waited so long.
But it's not dead.
- Boss, telephone. - Tell them to wait.
It's dead now.
Gut it for me, please.
Everyone knows my financial situation hasn't been very good.
I don't have any talent for making money.
I don't know how to make deals. I'm bad with numbers.
For example, if I had a job and I worked as hard
as I do in another job, I'd make four times as much money.
I have no common sense.
She actually doesn't care about material things.
If you tell her you like one of her outfits, she'll say, "It's yours."
This is very nice. Why don't you use it?
Because A4 paper won't fit inside it, but it's really pretty.
I don't think it suits you either. Give it to Bianca.
That's my daughter.
You went to teach afterwards?
Teaching was much later.
That was my second crisis.
The result of Summer Snow was okay,
but, financially, it didn't help much, because my fee was meager.
The Stunt Woman followed and failed.
Then I made Eighteen Springs, and it failed at the box office too.
Then I tried hard
to get my friends to invest, and made Ordinary Heroes, another bomb.
After that, there was nothing.
I had no subject and there were no offers from film companies.
I always told myself, "Ann Hui's films don't sell."
Better not to ask too much from backers. My fee was relatively measly.
The crew helped out of loyalty.
What's the deal? Is this a charity?
Even if it is, you can't keep going like that.
I'm not a sloppy filmmaker. I'm a professional.
No way, I must do a big-budget production and make big money.
I believe I can do that.
She suddenly told me she wanted to make a commercial film.
Zodiac Killers.
I said, "Great! Let's do it!"
I kind of represent commercial film. I agreed to do it.
When we met, she shared many ideas.
I realized that she didn't actually want to make a commercial film.
She wanted the package of a commercial film to express her ideas.
I think Ann, of all people, does care about the market,
but the thing is,
not every filmmaker should stoop to the market.
That's not necessary.
Each of us has their own destiny.
With Ann's talent and ability,
she shouldn't stoop to the market.
She should insist on what she wants to do.
Director! Can I have a light?
Haven't you got anything better to shoot? Why us?
- Just making a living. - Really?
Our families destroyed!
- Where's the justice? - Where's the justice?
- Give us justice! - Give us justice!
- Down with inhumane government! - Down with inhumane government!
- Our families destroyed! - Our families destroyed!
I had a strong conviction in this story.
I swore to myself I'd make this film because it resonated with me.
I wanted to make a film about these activists,
to show audiences our society's idealists.
It was a very difficult screenplay,
because no one in Hong Kong would write it.
It wasn't about the politics. They somehow felt —
When I showed the first draft to Yim Ho and to Alex Law,
both pleaded with me to drop it.
They said, "Ann, stop making these kinds of films.
Who wants to see a loser?
He's not Jesus Christ.
Can you make the protagonist more proactive and accomplished?
Don't make him look so pathetic. No one wants to see a story like this."
I know I can't accomplish anything.
Those who suffer must pull themselves up.
But I can give them confidence and support.
Arise, ye slaves of starvation!
Arise, ye wretched of the earth!
Looking at the films she's made in the last decade,
you'll see she's been treading a humanistic path.
In Hong Kong, this path is destined to be tortuous.
It's very difficult to make films like these in Hong Kong.
Ann's persistence has made her not only an oddball,
but almost a miracle.
Most of the characters in her films are loners,
or someone struggling at the crossroads of history.
It was like that all along.
Someone once wrote that this is the destiny of Hong Kongers.
Her characters are always unsettled,
constantly looking for something.
But what are they looking for? I think it is settlement and security.
However, during the process, strangely, these people, in fact...
often encounter betrayal.
This may be betrayal by their country, by someone close to them,
or even by family.
Get down!
Ann's worldview, I believe, is relatively gloomy.
You don't find too many people living happily in this world.
Instead, you find many problems.
Many people are deserted by society.
People are living in depression and sorrow.
You're inclined to tell stories about these people.
I thought I was a very cheerful person.
I personally think that films
are about redemption, that is to say,
how one can transcend oneself
from difficult situations, instead of wallowing in them.
I'm not advocating transcendence in a religious way.
The point is, if films like these make you depressed, then don't watch them.
I'll keep it for now.
If you need money in the future, I'll take care of it.
When I die, I'll bless On, so he'll excel in his studies.
And be an obedient kid.
I first visited Tin Shui Wai in 2004.
As soon as I got there, I had a feeling:
"There must be many stories in this place."
I found it very attractive.
I've always detested those new buildings.
I like old houses and their ambience.
Still, I was drawn to Tin Shui Wai,
because it struck me as strange.
Later I tried to analyze this.
It looked quite different then. With more people, it's become dirtier.
Back then, it felt kind of deserted,
like a simulated town in computer games.
There were some bicycle lanes.
Now and then, a car might pass by. There were no shop signs.
Buildings after buildings. It was an impersonal housing estate.
In the distance, a woman with an umbrella might pass by.
It was all like a dream.
When I made Night and Fog,
about the murder of a female immigrant
and how such a horrible crime and inhumane story could have happened,
the whole environment was completely right.
It was in June or July. It was a very hot summer.
In 2004, we filmed in Tin Heng Estate,
north of Tin Shui Wai.
The location of the crime scene.
Just like this, where there's a square. I think it was on the third floor.
It looks almost the same, except this is much older.
There it was painted blue and looked cheerful.
You wouldn't expect a murder there.
In Night and Fog or Ordinary Heroes,
she was documenting the spirit of the times,
or details, ideas or images of the era.
I think she's consciously creating a discourse
on very important issues of our time that need to be raised.
She's raising concern for society,
whether from an individual perspective
or in terms of our awareness of the world around us.
It's been 14, 15 years since then.
I feel this is what counts.
In filmmaking,
it's not about making a good film,
it's about the learning process and life experience you acquire from it.
Much of this is based on research
and deserves to be treasured.
Among all Hong Kong directors, Ann's probably
the one who walks the streets the most.
Very few people know this, but be it day or night,
she's always scouting.
When she's taking a stroll, she's scouting locations.
That's why she's very familiar with the life of common folk in Hong Kong.
She's very involved.
Films somehow became more significant
for her, apparently,
rather than her family.
I guess the only thing I've ever thought about seriously in my life
is film and film alone.
I'd think back and forth, up and down, mulling over
all aspects of filmmaking.
But when it comes to my personal life, I've never quite cared.
It has something to do with her family or her personality.
She always feels like a loner drifting in society.
That's why, when she's making her films, perhaps she feels
that life is somehow lonely.
Isn't that a huge sacrifice?
Just work and no romance?
Well...
I've never really examined what I felt at that time.
Nor will I ponder now on why I broke up...
with someone.
In fact, when we broke up, I felt so relieved.
I just felt...
I don't have to —
Nothing personal about anyone. I just felt... Yes!
I could finally concentrate on filmmaking and finding work.
To be honest.
This may sound awful, but it's the truth.
I've never felt confident about my appearance.
I always felt I was too fat, and I also had pimples.
I felt very inferior. It was always like that.
If that's the way you think of yourself,
it's very hard to look for someone.
You have no self-confidence.
Being a filmmaker gives me a sense of identity, it's consoling.
Holding onto filmmaking as a lifeline,
it's the only way you can treasure yourself.
I think she's never been a delicate woman.
We never felt
any distinct masculinity or femininity in her.
That's because
her working style and her determination
are far stronger than most people's, whether man or woman.
Once, we were scouting for locations in Inner Mongolia.
I was squatting by the roadside. I had lipstick on.
A kid came up and asked,
"Where's the toilet, Uncle?"
I turned to him, giving him a close-up of my face,
and I spoke in a female voice. "It's over there."
His mother beside him said, "Thank you, Uncle."
A woman in an all-male world —
Well, we're not concerned about her manner.
In fact, she's the most intense smoker.
I didn't smoke before Boat People.
When I was making Boat People, I saw David Chung...
Lam Wing...
And Ann... All these big shots were smokers.
It was as if you couldn't be one if you didn't smoke.
- You smoke? - Lok taught me.
Thank you.
Run out of matches?
One year, at the Golden Horse Awards, I was asked to mimic a few directors.
I impersonated Ann and the way she smoked.
Director Ann Hui. I received a phone call
saying she had broken her leg. She was hit by a bus in Shanghai.
When I went there, I found out she was still working.
That was the first time I saw her bare legs.
When she was directing, the cigarette never left her lips.
She looked like this. Ready... camera!
Cut!
It turned out she dropped her cigarette on her clothes, and they caught fire.
When she's occupied, she dives into it fully.
Nothing can distract her. That's why she often gets injured.
She'd run straight into a car or a wall.
It's part of her work ethic. She's very stubborn.
I'm okay, Tang Wei.
The education I received
taught me to push my creative boundaries, like Xiao Hong.
People spend sleepless nights for their art.
When I was young, that was what I dreamt of.
To suffer and die for your art.
That's the right way!
You can't simply be a normal person.
I was brainwashed by this myth,
that you must be madly obsessed
before you can do well.
Especially when I'm filming, I've always felt something's wrong
if I'm not totally focused. It's very hard work.
One, two, three!
Is that enough? Cut!
Are you okay?
Take your time.
- Are you okay? - I'm fine.
All right, all right.
What the hell?
Happy birthday!
I remember when Ann was 60.
She said this half-jokingly —
Actually, she was serious, and I could feel the pain.
She was sitting there, smoking and laughing,
and she said, "So I'm 60, and people still see me as a woman and an inept filmmaker."
I think she's under great pressure.
My next ambition is
to find a coach to help me build my biceps
and trim my waist.
Then I'll put on a camisole.
She said, "You only live once. I want plastic surgery."
I said, "What do you want to change?"
She said, "I want to try. What's wrong with that?"
I said, "What exactly?" She said, "My nose."
I want to fix my nose.
- Higher? - No. It's too wide.
Other than the nose, I want to remove these two lines.
And then —
You want all the lines removed?
No, there are some I don't mind.
I want to raise my eyes a bit
and remove these bags. Basically these.
If the doctors have further suggestions, like, "you can do this or that,"
I'll comply.
How do I look?
- You'll be putting on makeup, won't you? - Of course!
What should I — You think I should wear the red one?
I may not be able to wear it if they have an eight-hour meeting that day.
We'll have to bring all our clothes to the hotel and change.
After working for eight hours, my face will be swollen, my body bloated.
I'll expand by one or two inches. Let's forget about it.
My view is we pick the fabric and the cutting
not to make a tight fit — It'll be slimming.
It'll be draping.
No need to be too tight.
I'm afraid I'll disgrace you.
Don't worry about your body being bloated.
If you look tired, a black dress will make you look...
- Even worse. - It wouldn't be nice.
But at my age, a red dress is too much.
That's just your preconception.
- Preconception? - Yes.
Okay, I'll try to wear this.
This year, our Jury Chair is Ann Hui.
I believe she must have a lot to share.
I feel very ashamed,
because this year was dominated by new filmmakers.
When I was watching these films,
I felt I could never make films like these.
I'm really getting old.
In the past, I felt very competitive.
Now, I'd rather watch these new directors' work
and appreciate their talents.
Another thing that makes me ashamed is that,
after ten hours of fierce arguments with the jurors,
I couldn't put on the dress
from my sponsor — I apologize!
It was a red qipao.
I was unable to wear that. Sorry.
I think you were the most upset by the whole affair.
When she saw me wearing that black dress, her reaction was...
What happened?
- Because she showed it to me a while ago. - I betrayed her.
She said, "I've prepared this outfit especially for you."
I said, "I didn't ask you to do that." I wasn't aware you knew!
It's not my fault.
Norman had sent me the picture.
She was wearing a red qipao. Wow, so pretty.
So I decided to wear something blue. Blue is also beautiful.
She would wear Chinese, and I'd wear Western.
I imagined it would look good. We'd look so pretty on stage together.
- You projected too much. - I projected too much!
That's why when I was backstage — "Ann, what the..."
Thinking about my life,
I feel there's been too little singing, dancing and booze.
- You should drink more now. - I dare not!
And if I sing and dance, they'll lock me in an asylum.
No.
There are many opportunities to sing and dance.
And bikinis!
What are you wearing?
I knitted it myself. How about it?
I have arthritis.
Isn't it creative?
I'm going to swim.
I'm taking the plunge.
Pan! Pan!
Help!
Who are you? I know how to swim.
Are you all right?
How dare you ask me that?
- I can't hold on anymore! - What's wrong?
- Swimming during your period? - I can't hold on anymore!
We're the same age. What can you make at this age? Action films?
Maybe if you're a male director, but if you're female...
As you grow older, you may find new perspectives on your subject matter.
You reexamine the world around you
and express that in your film.
You express your feelings about the world. About the world today.
Now I often work out.
I'll do some exercise, rest for a while and work out some more.
Then I'll go to lunch.
When I get older, I won't be able to read books or watch TV. My eyes will get tired.
Look at my arm. It's like crinkled paper.
- What? - Aging.
- Does the arm grow old? - Try polishing it.
- It looks like crinkled paper. - He told you to polish it.
Polish your ass! Shut up.
Your Highness.
Be nice.
Your eyes are so big.
Mom, put them over here.
Here's the soup, Mommy.
You won't eat the salad, right?
Potatoes and veggies. Yummy!
Get up first!
Get up first.
Okay, sit down slowly.
Have some soup.
Yes. Is it okay if I don't give you a lung X-ray?
We had one, more than six months ago,
but we lost it.
When do we have to submit it?
Must we submit the X-ray?
Can I ask the doctor for some certification?
Do you accept cash or check?
Concerning the long-term stay you mentioned,
there might be complications.
You have very strict rules.
Let me think about it. I'll give you an answer tomorrow.
Okay, I'll get back to you tomorrow morning. No, I'll call you Monday.
Thank you, bye.
I was watching a ghost movie.
People at the home for the elderly
are fucking tedious.
Fuck it.
HK$580 per month for diapers?
Depends on the brand you use.
We charge for each one.
This one is leakproof, so it's more expensive.
That old man changes his very often.
What is this "escort charge"?
- Escort charge? - Yes.
The escort accompanies the elderly for the follow-ups.
For Chinese doctor, physiotherapy,
massage, acupuncture and anything else.
The cost depends on the escort.
For illegal South Asian immigrants, HK$150.
For mainland Chinese, HK$200. For HKID cardholders, HK$250.
The most expensive are mixed-race Chinese, HK$300.
That's the way it is in Hong Kong.
It's an advantage to have a foreigner with you.
We've also talked about elderly homes.
She's against sending Mommy there.
We don't have a problem with that.
For the long term, I think she —
We discussed that before.
It was hard for her to accept this. She felt she was deserting someone.
We aren't trying to convince her,
but how long can she keep this up?
She's by herself. How can she take care of her?
I feel that when she made A Simple Life,
she might have seen something.
This made her even more reluctant.
I understand her thinking. It's like she's deserting someone.
That person is Mom.
I guess she loves Mom very much.
After all, she's still alive.
Sending her to an elderly home
is labeling her as "Waiting for Death."
You're doing well today, Mommy.
The swelling is gone.
Bye. Come, see us off.
Bye.
Slowly, Mommy.
Taxi!
Are you cold? I think it's a little cold for you.
- I'll give you my jacket if you feel cold. - No need.
It's closed.
It's not open today?
Today is —
Today's Tuesday.
In that case, let's have a cup of coffee.
- Let's have coffee, okay? - Okay.
Let's go downstairs for coffee.
We'll go home after that.
Sorry, I'm so stupid. I messed up.
- Let's come again on Thursday. - Thursday?
- Day after tomorrow. - Tomorrow. The day after.
Yes. We'll come again.
It's good to get some air.
Let's see if the coffee shop is open.
This way, Mom.
- What day is today? - The day after Christmas.
Finish your lunch first.
Is it true
that all my friends who are critically ill come to you?
They're fine. As long as I'm here.
- Right? - Sure.
I cheat them out of their money. I must try my best.
The lungs regulate fluids to the bladder.
They must be excreted through the bladder. That's the route.
That's affecting your system.
Okay, I'll go now.
Use all three methods and you'll get better very soon.
You won't be affected, you'll be fine.
Those are minor problems. There's mainly heat in your bladder.
As long as you say I'm not going to die, I'm already half-recovered.
Don't say that.
Mrs. Lau, I'll be back in an hour and a half.
Got you.
First, a director reaches a certain age.
Sometimes I feel
I can't work much longer, nor do I want to.
That's because of your physical condition.
To tell the truth, during the past few years,
I think I've improved creatively.
If you give me the chance, I can make better films.
It'd be a shame if I couldn't go on anymore.
The problem is my health.
You just don't have the energy. Your eyes are bad, you can't see clearly.
You can't walk fast.
It's a blessing if I'm offered work.
In fact, my capability or resources
are no longer enough to be a director.
I feel very sad, because the only thing I like doing is directing,
yet I'm no longer fit to do that.
I feel conflicted.
Thank you for your support
for Our Time Will Come.
Welcome, Director Ann Hui.
Mr. Lam and Mr. Roger Lee. Welcome to both of you!
Director Ann Hui. Go.
Because I'm a Hong Konger,
I want to make this film of wartime resistance
to capture the spirit of Hong Kong.
Did some of the scenes with Blackie Lau
remind you of Hong Kong films such as A Better Tomorrow?
Action scenes in the restaurant...
I actually went through a "gunflight" myself—
I mean gunfight. Yes, in fact...
In mainland China,
in first and second-tier cities, northern and southern cities,
the reception is completely different.
You don't know the audience at all.
It's like speaking to someone in a different language.
Although we speak the same language, the tones are different.
People don't understand you.
We'll go first.
If this film were made solely for Hong Kong,
I'd never raise the money.
Of course, I want a large audience for the film.
I think the subject matter is something that young people should know about,
not only Hong Kongers.
I need a smoke. Just a couple of minutes.
Luckily, Mr. He is here to help.
I can't handle this anymore!
Their questions are too repetitive.
It's exasperating. They always ask about "feminist cinema."
Let's go over there.
Show me tomorrow's schedule.
Don't cram too many interviews in.
The person in charge tomorrow isn't here.
Tomorrow is Chengdu.
- Right. - I know.
- Who's responsible? - Xiaolong's team, but they aren't here.
Different people are responsible for each city.
It's fine, I'll tell them when we're back at the hotel.
We'll let you know who those two are. Then we'll talk to them.
You'll let me see when we're back or when we're done today?
We got it.
- We'll get it soon? - Yes. We got it.
Just one rule. I don't know who's who.
Try to give me some breaks. Don't schedule things so tight.
I'm very old now.
Let Wallace Huo do some of the interviews by himself.
I can't do this nonstop.
I may pass out. You can never tell.
Understand? Especially in the next two days.
But if it's really necessary, I'll go.
Otherwise, minimize them for me. I can't make so many stops.
You decide for me. I can't tell which is necessary and which isn't.
Let's go back and change.
Okay?
Useless!
I've told the publicist.
Every time I do publicity, the film flops. Don't make me show my face.
But I have a very bad habit.
Starting from day one, I've always worried about the box office.
Ever since The Secret, I'm on call for all kinds of publicity.
As soon as it ends, don't call me again. Guys, don't call me!
This time is okay, isn't it?
Not okay. Too many.
People think you're too desperate.
It's like going to war without armor.
You don't need to appear all the time. You're the director.
May I invite all guests to come on stage?
Please come. Come together.
This is huge.
The theme of our program is
to celebrate the 20th anniversary of the establishment of HKSAR.
We'd like to put more emphasis
on the advantages, such as locations in filmmaking.
You can now film in whatever places you want in the mainland.
We'd like you to think more — based on your personal feelings
from the past 20 years — about other changes that are beneficial.
Can you do that? Okay.
What's the point of all this?
Don't ask me to speak on stage.
- You need to say something on stage. - I won't. Let me tell you.
- I absolutely won't. I'm serious. - You can just talk about the film.
If it's about the film, it's okay,
but if you want some well-wishes, I won't do it.
Don't do it. We'll inform the TV station.
Yes, we're talking with them now. We have the final say.
If your questions are about the film, that's all right,
but if you ask me for some well-wishes, I won't go.
Understood.
- Don't ask me those questions on the spot. - Yes, I know.
- I'll get nasty. - Understood. They won't.
We have a good relationship with the TV station.
Now there's a so-called mainland market and a Hong Kong market.
And we go from one to the other. We've lost our way a bit.
Hong Kong Film Awards Best Director,
Ann Hui!
Tired?
I'm not too tired. I'm okay.
We have to appear on stage.
At the cinema.
Then we'll drive back. You sleep first. Don't wait for me.
Around 11:00 p.m.
Yes, sleep first. I may be late. There may be a traffic jam.
Go to sleep first.
No. I'll have dinner before I come back.
Okay. I'll be back soon.
Now we see what kind of situation we're in.
The film industry in Hong Kong
relies on co-productions and is absorbed by the Chinese market.
The current situation in Hong Kong —
I don't know, because I've been away for a few years.
I wasn't in Hong Kong most of the time.
I didn't know exactly what was happening.
But it's different now.
It's different compared with before.
It's strange, our generation
was intent on defining our identity.
Later, we all decided to drop that
and call ourselves world citizens.
Now people hate globalization.
They want to reclaim their local culture.
This is indeed contradictory. What is local culture?
It's very hard to define.
There are many kinds of local culture, such as colonial buildings,
but they aren't really local culture!
They came from abroad.
Without engaging in such discussions,
you can't define yourself.
You really can't define yourself.
You may stop wherever you can.
- Where do I turn next? - This way.
I'm finally home! Bye.
Watch out.
Mommy, try this. It's very sweet.
Eat slowly.
- It's very soft. - Yes, don't be afraid.
It's not hard. Try it, it's very tasty.
I was talking to Margaret Ng the other day.
Looking back at myself.
Imagining ourselves in 20 years' time.
I realize I haven't improved at all.
I still think exactly the same way.
No, I'm less of an outsider now.
I mean, I'm less cool.
I'm curious and I want to explore. I don't want to leave.
Right now, I feel I'm very committed to Hong Kong.
I want to do something.
The best I can do is to make films.
To make films about Hong Kong people.
It's not just a hobby,
or something I do between jobs,
but something I really want to do, I choose to do.
I should make more films reflecting the changes in Hong Kong.
This will become a positive thing. In this way, I can contribute to society.
I used to hate these big terms.
I used to tell people, "I make films to put food on the table."
But I really want to do this now. My intention is different.
Not everyone knows how to make films.
However, cinema can wield a big influence.
The Hong Kong Film Directors' Guild
Best Film of 2017,
Our Time Will Come.
Congratulations!
I've won many awards, but I've never cried.
I'm afraid I will this time.
I'd like to thank everybody.
And Mr. Yu Dong, who supported this film all along.
Thank you also to all the crew members and actors.
Although I feel I didn't do a very good job.
They were all very committed
in making this film about the history of Hong Kong's wartime resistance.
Director of Boat People, Ann Hui.
I'd like to particularly thank my mentor,
if he considers me his student, King Hu.
Ann Hui.
Ann Hui!
Director Ann Hui.
Nominated 11 times for Best Director at the Hong Kong Film Awards.
Ann Hui, The Golden Era.
Ann Hui, Our Time Will Come.
I'd like to take this opportunity to thank this city, Hong Kong.
This is where I grew up, where I received my education.
Where I got a grant to study film.
Where I returned and got so much inspiration.
Where I made money and pursued a career.
Where I can eat the best pineapple bun and drink the best milk tea.
Thank you very much, Hong Kong.
In the future, I hope I can do more for this city.
Thank you.