Hong Kong Film Awards

In the Republican era there was a leading warlord of the Yunnan clique named Tang Jiyao. Tang Jiyao had a granddaughter named Tang Shuxuan. She studied film in the United States, made a few pictures in Hong Kong, and founded a magazine, Close-Up. Later the magazine shut down. Several of its editors struck out on their own and started another magazine, called Film Biweekly. Hong Kong had more film and television papers than anyone could count. Film Biweekly was one of the more professional, strong on theory, attentive to New Wave directors, and fairly evenhanded in its appraisals of Left films. This year they meant to launch an award. The name was set: the Hong Kong Film Awards! There were five main prizes—Best Film, Best Director, Best Screenplay, Best Actor, and Best Actress—and also the Top Ten Chinese-Language Films and the Top Ten Foreign-Language Films, twenty-five awards in all. Of course the foreign films would not come to collect theirs. The Chinese-language films still might. At that moment, in the editorial department, a group of editors were writing invitations by hand. "The first Hong Kong Film Awards ceremony will be held on March 9 at the Shouson Theatre of the Hong Kong Arts Centre... Tai Chi has been honored among the Top Ten Chinese-Language Films... We welcome your presence..." Deputy editor Chen Baisheng finished one, then suddenly looked up. "Shall I just send the one for Tai Chi straight to Great Wall?" "Sure. That Mr. Chen is in Hong Kong again. He's right there at Great Wall." "Do you think the Left will come?" "What you ought to ask is whether anyone at all will come to the ceremony!" Editor-in-chief Shu Kei said, "We've got no money and no influence. We're sending invitations out on our own. If people are willing to come, they're giving us face. If they aren't, there's nothing we can do. I'm only afraid the hall will be empty when the time comes. That would be too humiliating." "Relax. We've interviewed so many film people. We must have a scrap of face with them." "At the very least the winners have to come, don't they?" "It would be best if Michael Hui came!" "Ha. With Michael Hui's temper, he wouldn't give an award like this a second look!" They went on writing. After a while Shu Kei wavered again. "If the Left comes and the Right comes too, what do we do if they fight?" "Talk it through beforehand. In public, everyone shows a little mutual respect. Besides, our awards don't divide Left and Right. Only if we hold that line can the Hong Kong Film Awards go on for the long term." "Easy to say. I'm afraid those stars and big directors won't stand for it! Say a Left film hires a Golden Harvest director to shoot it under another name. The director wins. Does he dare go up and accept it? He certainly doesn't! Then what meaning does this award still have?" "..." Everyone fell silent. They had started the Hong Kong Film Awards on nothing but a surge of enthusiasm. Only when they actually set about organizing it did they find the difficulties piled one on another. "Forget it. First get what's in front of us done. We've been pushed into it before we're ready. We'll just have to grit our teeth and put it on!" ...... The invitations went out to many companies and filmmakers. Film Biweekly had interviewed essentially all of them. The Hong Kong film world ran on jianghu ways. It wanted face, and it wanted loyalty—even if only on the surface. Even if some thought nothing of it, for the sake of social obligation most of them still had to come and show support. Except for the likes of Michael Hui. Michael Hui received the letter without the slightest interest. He called in his younger brother Xu Guanying at once. "I don't want to go. You accept it for me!" "Wow! You won't even go for Best Actor?" Xu Guanying looked too, and envied him terribly. "Some no-name award I don't even know the point of. What would I go for? You go!" "I'll go, I'll go. If I had a chance like this, I'd show up in full dress!" Xu Guanying muttered as he put the letter away. The Xu family had four brothers: Michael Hui, Xu Guanwu, Xu Guanying, and Sam Hui, whose Chinese given names, Wen, Wu, Ying, and Jie, together meant civil and martial, hero and genius. Michael Hui's talent was overwhelming. Proud and aloof, he was the first King of Comedy. Sam Hui was the original god of Cantonese song, and a great star of the screen as well. Second brother Xu Guanwu worked mainly behind the scenes and stayed out of all this. Third brother Xu Guanying was plain-looking and not much favored for his face. His achievements were in fact quite good. Only the brilliance of his brothers had always overshadowed him. ...... A restaurant. Hong Jinbao was eating and drinking with his brothers, and the matter came up at the table too. His Encounter of the Spooky Kind had also been chosen for the Top Ten Chinese-Language Films. "Brother Sanmao, are you going?" "Of course. They're giving me an award. Why wouldn't I go? Besides, they've interviewed me. I can't refuse the courtesy." "Then will you take us along?" "A no-name award. What would you go for?" "A no-name award is still an award. Let us see the world!" "All right, all right. The brothers will go together!" ...... In an office, Chen Qi turned an invitation over and over in his hands. A red letter, handwritten. The gist was that Tai Chi had been honored among the Top Ten Chinese-Language Films, and that he was invited to the ceremony, and so on... "They just tell me I've won, like that? Not even a bit of suspense?" He was amazed. "Same with us," Fu Chi said. "Father and Son, the one Feng Huang made, took Best Director and Best Film. They told us outright too, and invited us to attend." "What a makeshift outfit. How much better to have a nomination round—five candidates, the winner announced on the spot. Suspense and competition both at full pitch. What a draw." "The awards are just starting. How could they be that complete? They certainly don't have enough money either. That theater is very small. Still, I read every issue of Film Biweekly. It is very partial to New Wave directors, and quite fair in its appraisals of our Left works. We've already decided to attend. Are you going?" Fu Chi asked. "If you're going, then I'll go too. Hey—bring Liu Dehua, Liu Xuehua, Ah Zhen, and the others along as well. Swell our presence." "Sure!" Fu Chi didn't make much of it. Once it was said, that was that. Chen Qi, though, had started to form a plan. Of course he knew all about the Hong Kong Film Awards. This year was only the first. Early on there was no money and no influence, and nobody took it seriously. But it was, after all, Hong Kong's only award. Once enough editions had been held, people in the industry slowly came to recognize it. In the early years, when Film Biweekly ran it, it still had something of a stance, and often gave awards to the Left, because the Left's art films were well made. In the early nineties Film Biweekly withdrew. A Hong Kong Film Awards Association was formed to take charge of the whole business. Sponsorship increased, influence grew and grew, and it became one of the highest honors in Chinese-language cinema. But at the same time the so-called "localization" grew ever more severe, and extremely exclusionary. After Hong Kong film declined and the mainland market rose, it shut its doors all the more and congratulated itself inside. The three gold awards of Chinese-language cinema—each a bigger flop than the last! "I'm getting involved!" Chen Qi made up his mind quickly. Mainland awards were as hard to manage as the mainland film world. He was taking the indirect route, trying to save the cause by a detour. To stir things up in Hong Kong, he needed to get his hands on an award like this. As for obstacles? "If I turn every filmmaker in Hong Kong into the Left, that'll be fine, won't it!" ...... Tsui Hark received an invitation as well. His All the Wrong Clues (...for the Right Solution) had been named to the Chinese-language Top Ten. "Never thought anyone in Hong Kong would have the guts to put on an awards show. Succeed, and you're a hero. Fail, and you're a loser." "Hero or loser—someone still has to take the first step. We've decided to take part. Are you going?" Chen Qi asked. "They're giving me an award. Of course I'll go. I'll go and show some support!" "That's wonderful. We'll go together!" "I have my own crew. Why would I go with you?" Tsui Hark couldn't be bothered with him. At an occasion like an awards ceremony, who arrived with whom, and who stood close to whom, was as good as declaring a position. He was still a Cinema City director. Of course he couldn't mix with the Left. Chen Qi didn't press him. He went to find Liu Dehua and Liang Jiahui instead, and told them about it. "When the time comes, all of you attend in formal dress. This suit will do. Look sharp for me." "We've never even heard of this award. Wouldn't formal dress be a bit much?" "It's precisely because others may not dress formally that we should. Only then does our quality show." "Oh. A show of courtesy is only proper." Liang Jiahui nodded. Unlike Tsui Hark, he did not refuse when Chen Qi hauled him in by force. He tacitly agreed to attend with him. Then Zhong Chuhong came hurrying over too, a little uneasy, seeking his opinion. "Mr. Chen, The Story of Woo Viet was invited as well. The production asked me and Fa Zai to go together." "Of course. You were part of their crew to begin with." "Oh. That's all right, then." Zhong Chuhong let out a breath of relief for no clear reason. She had thought he was going to pull her into his camp. But on second thought, if he wasn't pulling her in, why had he called her to come and act? He still meant no good. And all day he held a notebook, staring at her and writing and writing. She had no idea what he was doing.