At the Sydney Film Festival (Part 3) – Janice Tong's Short Take on ALL SHALL BE WELL (從今以後, Ray Yeung, Hong Kong/China (2024)

 

Lin-lin Wu, Patra Au, All Shall Be Well

 

All Shall Be Well is a beautifully made small film from Hong Kong that at its heart looks at the idea of what makes a modern family. From its first frames – an early morning routine of two familiar lovers in their 60s, their silent movements, habitual, tender, every day. There’s no need for dialogue or any introduction to these two characters. 

 

It’s impossible not to be captivated by the understated performances of Patra Au as Auntie Angie and her life companion, Pat (Lin-Lin Wu). The two women are clearly still in love with each other, so many poignant moments of them sitting next to each other at their dresser, preparing their breakfast (this was the loveliest – like a well-rehearsed pas de deux), or walking down the street to the market together. Theirs was a companionable life that has been bedded down like the course of a winding river. No doubt they had weathered storms in earlier times, although family members now seem to be supportive. I’m sure that ‘coming out’ in Hong Kong for their generation would have been extremely difficult.

 

When Pat dies all of a sudden, and as she didn’t leave a will, Angie’s world is literally torn to shreds. The much needed time for grieving your other half recedes to the background as the infighting begins. What kind of funeral should be performed? According to whose wishes, now that Pat is no longer alive to speak for herself? Where should she be buried? What happens to the apartment that was Pat and Angie’s co-residence? What was their relationship in the eyes of their family, or the law? 

Patra Au

Perhaps the most heartbreaking thing is that Angie was constantly referred to as ‘her good friend’ or ‘they were like sisters’, as the family insists on keeping their relationship hidden, like a dirty family secret, when dealing with the authorities or lawyers or the Buddhist priest. More than that, they began to deny their relationship had ever existed. And in the end, the family, being blood relatives, gets the final say. The loophole for same sex couples in Hong Kong does not recognise this type of relationship if one has passed on without a will. 

 

The Cantonese title of the film, 從今以後, is a well-known turn of phrase, a Chinese idiom that translates literally as ‘from now on’, but it’s meaning is really about ‘starting again’ once we’ve come to a realisation of some past mistake or action that needs to be corrected. Perhaps the English title All Shall Be Well may be read as its adjoining couplet; that from now on, (having realised our mistakes) we’re able to amend our wrongs, that all shall be well. If you get this phrase next time in a fortune cookie, read into it this profound message.

 

We were lucky to have the director, Ray Yeung, present at the screening, where he talked about the impetus that drove him to make the film and some of his filmic choices. Although the film won the Best Queer Film at the Berlin Volksbühne, he said it was extremely difficult to source funding to make the film, "I was told that no one wants to see two lesbians over 60 in a relationship", especially because in Hong Kong, “old gay couples are a minority within a minority”.

 

For me personally, there's pure joy in hearing my mother tongue, Cantonese, spoken on the big screen (it has been a while for me with new Hong Kong films), the nature of the spoken language has many colloquialisms that only native speakers would be able to pick up on its nuances. Especially nostalgic moments were from some of the early scenes where the family and children all got together to play games: red light, green light; and marble checkers – I still have my set from Hong Kong, brought over to Australia all those years ago. A lovely reminder of my old home town.

 

All Shall Be Well has carved out a small oasis for itself in this fast-paced city – the film is slow and poignant, filled with moments of pause and meditation, as though it's asking the city to also take time out in order to reflect on this story. The pared-back colour palette and generally monotonal treatment in the film adds to its consideredness: of loss, grief and rejection. With this film, Ray Yeung has raised an important question for our millennia: who has the right to speak for, and make decisions for the one who is no longer there? 

 

The 71st Sydney Film Festival screened from 5 to 16 June 2024.