The national security law’s impact on free speech in Hong Kong has been widely debated but the implications for one sector have received less attention: the city’s film industry.
This is partly because Covid-19 has largely shuttered film production and cinemas (though theatres will reopen from Friday). However, the law’s impact on Hong Kong cinema will be felt long after the pandemic is gone.
Hong Kong is famous overseas for two genres: the kung fu flicks that made Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan and Donnie Yen household names, and crime dramas epitomised by the Infernal Affairs series, the first instalment of which was remade by Martin Scorsese as the Oscar-winningThe Departed .
Since the handover in 1997, the fortunes of Hong Kong’s mainstream filmmakers have been tied to the lucrative mainland Chinese market. Scripts are routinely self-censored, and subjects sensitive to Beijing avoided, to ensure the finished films are not banned on the mainland. However, these co-productions have had limited box office success outside mainland China.
There was always a thin line separating the types of films that could be made on either side of the border. Hong Kong directors were free to tell stories that were political or showed the authorities in a bad light – both taboo subjects in mainland films. The only penalty was being banned from the mainland market. With the national security law, that line will be erased.
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Hong Kong publishers resort to self-censorship under new security law
Hong Kong publishers resort to self-censorship under new security law
Four years ago, Ten Years surprised the industry when it won Best Film at the 35th Hong Kong Film Awards. The low-budget anthology tells five dystopian stories about life in a 2025 Hong Kong. Despite packing houses, the film had its limited theatrical release cut short following criticism in the Chinese state media. The producers and directors were unofficially blacklisted and not allowed to work on the mainland.
Could a Ten Years sequel ever be made now? While the script might get a pass under “freedom of speech” – which, according to Article 4 of the national security law, is still protected in Hong Kong – the movie itself would never make it to the screen. Funders, filmmakers and most actors would be afraid to touch it – distributors, too.
Before the new law came into effect, Jevons Au Man-kit – the most experienced of the five directors of Ten Years and whose crime thriller Trivisa was also banned in China – emigrated to Canada with his wife, who holds Canadian citizenship.
“Yellow” actors – those who publicly supported the umbrella movement back in 2014 – are doing the same. Anthony Wong Chau-sang, named Best Actor at the Hong Kong Film Awards last year for his role in the low-budget indie film Still Human, hinted on Facebook that he might seek residency in Taiwan; Chapman To Man-chat, the actor known for his bawdy Cantonese comedies, is hosting a talk show from Canada.
The national security law won’t affect big name actor-producers like Jackie Chan and Donnie Yen, who have long since aligned themselves with Beijing. Chan put his name to a statement supporting the decision to introduce the security law, while some of his recent films ( Railroad Tigers , Kung Fu Yoga ) blurred the line between entertainment and state propaganda.
Yen’s Ip Man 4: The Finale , the final instalment in the franchise, turned off even diehard fans with a political agenda that portrayed Americans as oppressive racists.
Recognising the adverse impact of Covid-19 and last year’s social unrest on Hong Kong’s independent film community, the Hong Kong government recently pledged to “re-energise” the sector with HK$260 million (US$33 million) for a series of initiatives, including HK$8 million to incubate 40 “high-quality” scripts.
Hong Kong filmmakers who write those scripts must now adopt the same mindset as their mainland counterparts: what stories can I tell that won’t get me in trouble (or in this case, lose the government funding)?
As for the city’s storied crime thrillers, that genre may be dead after last year’s anti-extradition bill rallies that saw violent clashes between protesters and officers. Police-themed movies released after the protest movement gained wide support flopped at the local box office.
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Hong Kong media mogul and opposition activist Jimmy Lai arrested under national security law
Hong Kong media mogul and opposition activist Jimmy Lai arrested under national security law
The new role of Hong Kong police in enforcing the security law is unlikely to help “Asia’s finest” make a big-screen comeback, even if the spectacle of almost 200 officers raiding a newspaper office would make good cinema.
For its part, Hollywood has long avoided subjects sensitive to Beijing – including Tibet, the Dalai Lama and portrayals of Chinese as villains – to maintain its access to the lucrative Chinese box office. The exception is Netflix, the digital disrupter in Hollywood, which has been denied permission to operate in China. That’s why Netflix shows like Space Force can get away with portraying China as a threat, albeit in a comedy, and the streaming service can release political documentaries like Joshua: Teenager vs. Superpower.
A recent report by PEN America, “Made in Hollywood, Censored by Beijing”, quoted one Hollywood executive as explaining why the studio’s latest film would be approved for release in China: “… after all, we’re not making Seven Years in Tibet”, the executive said, referring to the film that got Brad Pitt blacklisted from China for many years.
Ten Years and Seven Years in Tibet are both available to Netflix subscribers, as are many other films banned in China. In that respect, they act as canaries in the coal mine. If one day these titles disappear from your Netflix list, it will be proof that self-censorship under the national security law has spread far beyond Hong Kong’s film industry.
Craig Addison was an independent filmmaker in Hong Kong before joining the Post as a production editor
