An ambitious and heartfelt if patchy attempt to dramatise and personalise the HK protests…
At Hong Kong University, entrepreneurial student Yin (Will Or 柯煒林) alongside his firebrand girlfriend Maryanne (Sofiee Ng 吳海昕) actively organize and rally for the 2014 student strike “umbrella” movement. Also joining in are Yin’s shy cousin Toh (Lit-man Chan 陳烈文), their curious US-raised relative Jessica (Jocelyn Choi 蔡頌思) who records much of it on her visit, and miniature umbrella maker Shi (Yoyo Fung 馮海銳).
While Maryanne, in particular, is fully dedicated to the movement, Yin is walking a tightrope as his family — especially his father/Toh’s uncle Hung (Chit-man Chan) who runs a coach company — is strongly against the protests (and therefore also his girlfriend) on ideological and even more so practical grounds, as it severely disrupts and endangers business. Furthermore, Yin finds himself increasingly reluctant to go as far in stance or tactics as Maryanne is, let alone more radical, violence-advocating strike organizer Chicken (Ho Kai Wa 何啟華 — not that fellow from Young & Dangerous 古惑仔, but still causing trouble). That renders Yin and Maryanne star-crossed lovers of sorts who find great difficulty holding their relationship together under the pressure.
Fast forward five years later to the time of HK’s wider Extradition Law protests (as the film indeed jumps back and forth a couple of times): Yin has plans to move into the Mainland market as a venture capitalist with his laser diode phone tech; Maryanne is an opposition legislator; Shi is a U.N. worker; Toh is running his own protest project and Jessica wants to document it all as they cross paths with each other again within a bigger picture of seeing Hong Kong at a crossroads.
Indeed, the Hong Kong protests became arguably the most contentious new issue in the world for 2019, because even as local and specific of an issue as it technically was, it ended up reverberating throughout much of the rest of the world, garnering global headline-grabbing controversies, discussions and wrangling popular, political and economic alike. That entangled nexus of controversies within controversies inspired support, counter-protests, sanctions, boycotts and official reprimands that involved top clothing lines, computer companies, computer game companies, Congressmen and most famously pulled in the NBA twice (from one major GM who spoke out on it and one major player who spoke out against speaking out on it — both whom got severely chastised and boycotted for it.)
That marked and exemplified what was actually long bound to start occurring: as both China and its population continue playing an expanding role in the global community not just nationally but also through nationals in every other nation, even more so than other countries their national issues will be increasingly internationalized.
That being said, an issue such as that is the most difficult kind of all to get a sober discussion on, and where any artist is seriously challenged to create something that doesn’t veer into one-dimensional portrayals or crude polemics — fairly similar (except updated for the modern age) to how making movies about the Vietnam War was feared and avoided in most of 1970s Hollywood. That’s an even more challenging undertaking for an indie directorial debut as is the case for Chitman Chan, an actor known almost exclusively for supporting roles; his most known was probably Raymond on Eat Drink Man Woman.
But while he makes no secret where its sympathies lie, Chan is wise not to avoid showing multiple sides and arguments in it all. From the start, Apart deserves credit for its ambitious premise in trying to mix and mesh two very different genres, contextualizing a romantic drama into wider political events. While drama based around cross-border Chinese politics is technically nothing new for Hong Kong cinema — for one famous example, see 1996’s Comrades: Almost a Love Story — it is much rarer to do so with fully current controversial events in direct, immediate and non-fantastic (see Ten Years) fashion.
Apart focuses on the plight and situation of one couple (or to a lesser extent, a couple of couples), but it succeeds in making the story outwardly specific for what’s no doubt really the story of many. After all, many or perhaps even most people in Hong Kong knew close acquaintances — colleagues, friends, family or for the especially “fortunate” few, spouses or lovers — who were passionately or inflexibly split along the feuding political factions.
The film intersperses major plot twists and changes in character attitudes/situations with (or sometimes as) real footage and speeches from the protests (including a neat little editing trick in affixing Maryanne’s character into a real protest). For example, the real government ordinance that blocking roads would become a crime becomes a major dilemma and source of friction among the main characters for whether they should back down, keep course or push harder in response to it, showing how there can still be several alignments within the same “united” movement (a natural difficulty for a movement with no actual leaders or top authorities.) “It turns out a lot of people just want a living”, Yin acknowledges as many are indeed only as political as their economy or personal situation is, including his father in a tense but (this time) cordial argument in one of the best scenes.
Thus Apart manages to make those core ideas and conflicts accessible for wider audiences. Because even as unique as its specific circumstances and politics are to Hong Kong, it’s actually familiar and relatable across several countries that also recently faced deeply polarizing political issues (different as they may be) that were similarly split largely on generation gaps, from BREXIT in the UK to increasingly broad packages of political issues in the US. And Apart doesn’t miss the inherent intransigence of many people who even when in the same families and spending most of their lives in the same households, are still raised under very different value systems and ideals (as the younger not only have peer groups and the outside world but increasingly social media to help mould them).
So Apart does do a good job of having those aspects of a complicated issue present and accounted for. But it gets rockier in how it presents it all. One has to give points for creativity for having a distrustful girl rhetorically asking her lover what he really wants segue (by dialogue and by scene) into protestors yelling “I want true democracy!” But that comes off as more creative than convincing. If couples’ relationships are supposed to be some kind of metaphor for the heart of the protest movement (or an allegory for torn HK-Mainland commitments), it could’ve been communicated more cogently. But Apart does argue and connect the uncertainty of its two main dramatic points — the future of Hong Kong and the feasibility of normal, modern relationships for everyone within it well enough.
Like the screenplay, the performances are a mixed bag as can be expected from largely non-professionals and newcomers. Lead Or is actually best (in addition to the older more experienced supporting actors) followed by Ng, with most others adequate except when faced with the most challenging emotional scenes.
Following an unfortunate trend with many recent Hong Kong drama/indie films, Apart features some rather shamelessly sentimental background music (also see Still Human). It’s not that the soundtrack is bad per se, but it should do better than having cliche soft piano music start playing on cue with the dialogue, “Coz I truly love you.”
Speaking of which, despite all his political dilemmas, Yin seems to be doing rather well with his quasi-Edison Chen routine as he romances/beds two of the three female leads throughout — sometimes in simultaneous relationships. While this film probably wasn’t made to try to change the minds of the government side, for them this will only further ratify what they thought all along, between the leads’ free love decadence, Westernization (Yin is often rocking his “Nirvana” shirt — chances are he’s not thinking of Buddhism), and the presence in the movement of American Jessica (for who the film doesn’t clarify whether she’s a CIA agent or not).
While in past eras even some of the biggest mainstream releases in Hong Kong tended to freely throw in politically charged messages for dramatic or comedic purposes, that’s becoming an equally unlikely and unworkable prospect in this day and age when a substantial portion of major films are either direct Hong Kong / Mainland co-productions or featuring directors/actors/staff from each other’s industries. Thus, regardless of the views of the people making the films, it’s sound business and saving much trouble to avoid any touchy issues or having any chance of offending anyone from any side.
That’s why independent and lower-budget cinema like this is likely to play an increasingly unique role, becoming an ironic bastion for the lost characteristics of mainstream Hong Kong cinema and evolving social consciousness. And that hasn’t gone unnoticed or unsupported by some big guns in the industry, hence why Anthony Wong opted to star in Still Human for free, while Herman Yau produced this film.
While showing a lot more passion and pluck than polish, the topical subject matter and its unusual approach help set Apart apart in an industry that’s playing it as safe as ever lately.
“We might not get it, but at least we’ve tried, and have been faithful to ourselves, society and history.”
Apart screens as part of the Osaka Asian Film Festival 2020.
Side note
Part of the 2014 segment of this film resonates with this reviewer for once ending up in the thick of it in Mongkok — accidentally but inevitably for being addicted to the place for a time. I was not there on a particularly “physical” night (one had occurred shortly before it), but it was a particularly tense (and loud) one. The streets were filled with “umbrella” students in many moving circles wide and small loudly chanting and singing, the most policemen I’ve ever seen in one place on guard in about equally large straight lines, and, to a lesser extent, journalists/recording spectators. In the middle of it, all were thousands of shoppers and passersby local and foreign including myself going about our affairs as best we could, as police, protestors and cameramen made what’s already one of the most notoriously crowded “rich” shopping areas in the world impossible to even move through without a lot of bumping and pushing.
Seeing that much thriving and nearly unstoppable business right amidst that many watchful policemen gave me something of a visual epiphany as to why both sides think the way that they do there. It’s hard to imagine literally “business as usual” going on side by side with such conflict and chaos most anywhere else in the world, but HK is a special place like that.