What is Hong Kong Cinema?
A distinctive genre of its own.
When asked about examples of Hong Kong films, people usually point to the usual suspects: the action-packed global hard hitters of Jackie Chan, Bruce Lee, and Donnie Yen; romanticized, hyper-masculine “cops and Triads” crime films (Infernal Affairs, Hard Boiled, Rich and Famous); and the plotless arthouse classics of Wong Kar-wai, Fruit Chan, and Tsui Hark. But when asked what Hong Kong cinema “is,” or what are the elements that make these films “Hong Kong” rather than “Chinese,” we often find ourselves struggling to provide a coherent answer.
Since its “discovery” in the 1970s, globally-known Hong Kong productions have largely been confined to one genre - the kung fu movie. So identified is Hong Kong cinema with kung fu that the so-called “Hong Kong filmmaking approach” is defined entirely by its fast-paced, stunt-based cinematography, which has had an enormous impact on Hollywood - inspiring action flicks like The Matrix and John Wick. Outside observers often consider Hong Kong cinema as confusing or peculiar - films which don’t follow cinematic conventions either stylistically or narratively. Even the cultish admirers of Wong Kar-wai, who pride themselves on knowing Hong Kong films that aren’t action-packed, tend to focus on his films’ unconventional “character-before-plot” qualities which defy the climax-centered storytelling of typical cinema. To the viewer with no cultural understanding or interest in the region, these films are exotic and baffling to the point of being impenetrable.
Despite the huge impact Hong Kong cinema has had on Hollywood and elsewhere, its films have always been - and continues to be - on the outskirts of mainstream purview, hidden beneath “based on” and “inspired by.” In many instances, these inspirations aren’t even credited. Hong Kong productions rarely feature on lists of “foreign greats” (unlike Japanese or Korean films) and almost never create trendy, cultural “ripples” on the world stage of cultural consumerism (like Indian movies for instance). This is somewhat surprising, considering how influential Hong Kong cinema has been on Hollywood productions over the last forty years, and how many Hong Kong/Cantonese actors have made it onto American screens. When we really pay attention, we see that Hong Kong cinema is in fact everywhere. John Wick, The Departed, Leon: The Professional, Face-Off - these are just several among dozens of big-name blockbusters soaked with Hong Kong cinematographic influence. This invisibility is so entrenched that even when clips from Hong Kong movies go viral on social media, they are almost always obfuscated by Mandarin-language dubs which immediately tag them as Chinese films rather than Hong Kong productions. To many, the line between “Hong Kong” and “Chinese” is blurred if not invisible, especially to audiences beyond East Asia.
The distinction, however, is an important one. While “Chinese” and “Hong Kong” films are inextricably linked, they are also undeniably different - in style, content, themes, atmosphere, and culture. Consciously or subconsciously, the thread that underpins all Hong Kong-produced movies is the question of identity. Films like Infernal Affairs (2002), Happy Together (1997), and Jackie Chan’s Who Am I? (1998) represent the many high-profile movies obsessed with self-discovery, alienation, and becoming content with oneself - themes often lost to casual viewers, film critics, as well as serious scholars. This theme of figuring out oneself, despite its lack of satisfying answers, essentially define the Hong Kong condition. As with Hong Kong society writ large, Hong Kongers often struggle to pinpoint what exactly is this identity. Do these films represent a kind of “Chineseness” with British characteristics? But that doesn’t seem to include films like Stephen Chow’s The Final Combat 盖世豪侠; a genre so distinct, so Hong Kong-centric in its humour, language, and contemporary references, that few outside the city could truly appreciate its comedic, colloquial, and reimagined historical-artistic style.
Or maybe it is “fusion,” “hybrid,” or even “transnational?” Hong Kong’s “East meets West” epithet has always been a selling point - both commercially and culturally. Throughout the 70s, 80s, and 90s, Hong Kong cinema built its reputation on the global attraction to the kung fu genre and made huge efforts to target this newfound market. Co-productions between Hong Kong and Hollywood like Enter the Dragon (1973), The Protector (1985), and Rush Hour (1998) hit the screens with varying degrees of success, grafting Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan into the Western psyche and eternalising them as household names. Happy Together (1997), Wheels on Meals (1984), and Once a Thief (1991) were set in Buenos Aires, Barcelona, and Paris respectively; films which furthered the idea that “Hong Kongness” was - and is - something tinged with multicultural flavours.
Even so, fusion or hybridity doesn’t quite capture the essentialist yet elusive “Hong Kong” quality that permeates through these films. To an outsider with no understanding of - or interest in - China or Hong Kong, these movies are still “Chinese.” They feature Chinese-looking people and Chinese-sounding voices; they could be filmed anywhere on earth and still provide the same stylistic quality. But to Hong Kongers, these settings matter tremendously. Embedded in these movies are political, cultural, and existential questions which are reflected in their narrative arcs - they often have multiple climaxes, no resolutions, and open-ended endings. These qualities are fundamental to the genre as a whole.
Questions like “what is Hong Kong cinema” are stimulating, significant, and necessary. Yet ultimately, whether Hong Kong cinema should be adorned with labels like Chinese, or local, or Western, or global is ultimately unhelpful. What’s important is that its innovation be acknowledged, its art respected, and its genre preserved. What’s important is that these questions can continue to be explored, honestly and respectfully.