Simple yet nourishing, made with care and love, and good for the soul. This would be the description for many of the meals made by characters in The Way We Are, local cinema doyen Ann Hui’s latest film. In truth, it is also an apt characterization of this modest yet impressive Ozu-like offering which had its world premiere at this year’s HK International Film Festival. The drama was also included in the HK Film Archive’s Care for Our Community programme before the powers that be decided to give it a local theatrical release, albeit on just one screen and for too short a time.

Set in Tin Shui Wai without particularly making a big deal out of it, The Way We Are revolves around three individuals who may well merit the label of a previous Ann Hui film: Ordinary Heroes. Sister Kwan (the very capable Pau Hei Jing) is the hard-working widow mother of Cheung Ka On (Juno Leung, making an impressive film debut), a secondary school student who, for much of the film, awaits exam results that will help determine whether he will enter Form 6 in the coming year. They live in a flat in the same block as a lonely older supermarket colleague Sister Kwan respectfully referred to as Ah Por (Grandmother) (Chan
Lai Wun). Ah Por had lived her with daughter’s family, but when the daughter passed away and her husband remarried, Ah Por moved out and now lives on her own, away from her beloved grandson and son-in-law.

Through a series of vignettes, chock full of little details that all feel thoroughly authentic, it is established that this trio are living modest lives on a limited income, yet are comfortable and secure enough that they can think of helping out others in small but valuable ways. Thus, while Sister Kwan doesn’t go often to visit her mother when the latter is hospitalized, the older woman still does very much love and appreciate what she has done for their family over
the years.

For his part, Cheung Ka On may be a bit of a loafer who likes to sleep a lot, but his response to many requests made by his elders is a positive “oh” (Cantonese for “okay” or “yes”) and he may well be among the most well-behaved teenagers in the history of cinema! And while Ah Por’s unhappiness cannot but emanate from her very pores, she says to Sister Kwan, “I don’t want to trouble anyone,” and is quick to generously reward help and goodwill from the Cheungs.

Another local filmmaker some months back told me it’s far easier to create interesting drama out of tragedy than happiness. If that is indeed the case, Ann Hui’s considerable abilities should be valued more highly: In this heart-warming work, she has created an unpretentious gem of a film that is eminently watchable despite the lack of a villain and nothing truly dramatic occurring in it. I would go so far as to stay it is the best Hong Kong film this year by a country mile. Hui not only gives Hong Kong cinema hope that not all local moviemakers have lost their magic but also provides us with the belief that, even in the HKSAR’s infamous City of Sadness, goodness can be nurtured and thrives.

Yvonne Teh