To pessimists in the local film industry, Jacob Cheung’s latest offering may appear as a one-way ticket to commercial suicide. Without an all-star cast, any CG effects, explosions or awards from overseas film festivals, why, they may ask, will audiences pay to watch his Ticket. But let’s keep faith with Cheung, the man who brought us cinematic pleasures in Beyond the Sunset (1989), Cageman (1992) and Always on My Mind (1993) through simple and direct storytelling and a touch of humanity. Anyone used to the rollercoaster ride of blockbusters may feel uneasy sitting through 110 minutes of dialogue, emotional ups and downs and philosophical debate, but Ticket is surely a breath of fresh air for those who like some depth to their entertainment.
The film opens with Beijing-based journalist Yue (Zuo Xiao Qing) aggressively following the story of a couple determined to give birth even though their baby has a congenital heart disease. Yue constantly questions why the parents would choose to bring the suffering baby to this world as her own background is slowly unveiled when her childhood best friend Hin (Nicholas Wu) calls to tell her Sister Zeng (Cecilia Yip), the nun who cared for her after her mother abandoned her to the Catholic church, is injured and in a critical condition. The two go to Yunan to visit the nun who, before she dies, gives Yue a train ticket and encourages her to look for her real mother. Believing there is no excuse for parents to abandon their children, Yue has always hated her mother and is reluctant to do as the nun advised. But, persuaded by Hin, she eventually sets out, and later discovers the forgivable truth behind her mother’s actions. This gives her a new perspective and understanding for the parents who decided to give birth to their diseased baby, as well as for a taxi driver with an autistic son she meets on the road.
While Ticket is marketed as three life journeys linked by a train ticket, it is obviously Yue’s story. The cast do well with the material but veteran Wu Ma steals the spotlight, playing a brief role as the taxi driver who takes Yue and Hin on their journey. Questions about whether parents have the right to terminated their baby’s life (the chances of survival of the unborn baby in the film will be extremely slim as no successful cures are known), and whether abandoning a child due to poverty is irresponsible or a way of showing love are well raised – the director tells the story without judgement, a glaring departure from his previous works. He leaves viewers to make up their own minds – and that is as it should be. After all, we have often seen how dangerous it is to adopt rigid, universal remedies to such moral issues.
Rachel Mok |