While American films have achieved box office success and an impressive audience following in Asian countries, this relationship has largely remained one-sided. Few international films have made a financial or critical splash in the United States, which limits movie-goers’ exposure to a whole world of cinema. But the Hong Kong on Screen Film Festival is challenging this bias, taking a bite-sized approach to expanding our media diets.
Five Hong Kong-influenced short films were screened at the Eileen Norris Cinema Theater on Sept. 9 as part of the third annual HKOSFF’s finalist collection. The festival, which runs from Aug. 23 to Sept. 13, showcases movies with a wide range of subject matter and genres, celebrating the diversity of Hong Kong’s film scene.
Here’s a recap of the short films screened.
Short Story Long
It’s not often that a movie leans into the mundane. In a media landscape of short attention spans and instant gratification, “Short Story Long,” the first film of the festival, uses its slower pace to challenge the audience to reflect.
The movie, directed by Carrie Shen, depicts five pairs of conversations between artists in Hong Kong and London. Each scene comprises a single, still shot of an artist talking on the phone about their art and the challenges that come with creativity. These conversations, often without music, camera movement or editing, are borderline tedious in their realism.
“The whole film is actually a real record of what they talked about,” Shen said. “I didn’t really guide them through what to talk about. And I just told them ‘talk to this stranger,’ … and then we would roll.”
However the film isn’t pointlessly slow. Shen uses these conversations as an exercise in empathy and reflection. This natural approach reminds us that every person you pass on the street or overhear at work has their own world of complexity. The film forces the audience to think about the conversations on a deeper level and consider the barriers these artists each face.
From this perspective, the film suddenly becomes as moving as any drama.
White White
Carri Shen’s second film at the festival, “White White,” tells a traditional breakup story with painful honesty, allowing the director to explore unique emotional depths.
The film follows Jiu, a recent Hong Kong immigrant, whose girlfriend has disappeared. To fill the absence of his partner, Jiu begins to take care of his white potted plant, which withers away over the course of the film. As the plant deteriorates, Jiu’s desperation to keep it alive mirrors his need for human connection.
In just 30 minutes, Shen hits the audience with multiple emotional gut punches. A standout central performance and strategic use of long takes create a brutal, often uncomfortable, depiction of the grief that comes with lost love. It is this vulnerability that gives the film staying power in your mind.
Blessed Are Those Who Grieve
“Blessed Are Those Who Grieve” opens with two figures wrapped in sandy cloth, surrounded by an expansive desert. Eventually, the figures stumble toward each other and interlock bodies, as if to fuse into one being. Although they have no face, no voice and no name, their emotion is instantly recognizable: grief.
“Blessed Are Those Who Grieve,” directed by Zora Arose Ritz, Evgenia Chetvertkova and Kayu Yeung, is an experimental film that captures the anguish of trying to share your grief with another. There are no concrete characters, settings or plots in the movie. Instead, the filmmakers use evocative 3D models, sounds and narration to create a sensory experience that mimics the feeling of living with grief.
“When we are delivering it, we don’t want it to be very explanatory or in a way that is pure logic,” Yeung said. “This film speaks in a logic that is an emotional logic, not a narrative or plot-driven logic … you have the freedom to choose how you perceive it.”
By liberating itself from convention, the film is able to tap into abstract emotions that are not accessible in a traditional narrative. It creates an experience that is both deeply personal and widely universal. Like grief, the film cannot be fully described — only felt.
A Foreigner, I Came, A Foreigner, I Leave
“A Foreigner, I Came, A Foreigner, I Leave” is nothing short of unrelenting. The film, directed by Waitan Chan, explores immigration through heavily altered footage and cryptic narration, which depicts the narrator’s endless search for acceptance in various unnamed locations.
Chan applies filters and drawings over the footage, which obscure the image, sometimes to the point of unrecognizability. Colors and imperfections flash on the screen, lending the narrator’s story a dream-like quality.
While the film’s plot is intentionally difficult to grasp, the emotion shines through. The hostile visual language complements the narrator’s unforgiving journey, which will be relatable to many. Chan took a massive risk presenting the story with such a unique style, but it will certainly pay off with open-minded viewers.
Cha Guo
“Cha Guo,” directed by Daphné Mandel and Guy Bertrand, is a documentary showcasing a rural village in Hong Kong and the residents who make up its community. From concrete workers to dragonfruit farmers to soy sauce producers, the film highlights the unknown stories hidden within every corner of the village.
The filmmakers take a much-appreciated subject-first approach to their documentary. While modern documentarians are all too happy to interject their voices into the narrative, Mandel and Bertrand let the subjects speak for themselves.
“This documentary is more about people than place,” Mandel said. “The community we encountered was a really memorable experience for us. They all had very different paths in life. They all had to face a lot of struggles, but they all had in common this incredible warmth and willingness to share their stories with us.”
This approach allows the audience to get closer to the subject’s joys and fears — what motivates them. While the documentary is more informative than dramatic, it manages to say a lot about tradition, interconnectedness and passion. It’s a heartwarming love letter to Hong Kong’s culture that appreciates the beauty of the everyday.