The Last Dance 破·地獄 (2024) Review: An Introspective and Poignant Drama About Life and Death
Death may have been a natural cycle of life. Still, it was generally a taboo topic in Chinese culture normally associated with bad luck, and yet, writer-director Anselm Chan took the challenge in The Last Dance as he delves deep into the rarely-discussed subject matter in Hong Kong cinema — the funeral business. Funeral scenes may have been common in Hong Kong movies and series but not in a way that places the subject front and centre. It may seem like it’s a box office poison in the making. But the fortune favours the bold as The Last Dance has collected HK$30 million so far at the time of writing. Whether or not this movie will break the record remains to be seen.
The Last Dance also features Dayo Wong and Michael Hui’s long-awaited reunion; the last time they starred together, even though Wong appeared in a small role, was The Magic Touch thirty-two years ago. But Wong was instrumental in that 1992 hit comedy, who also served as a co-screenwriter alongside star, writer and director Michael Hui. When their new movie was first announced, I was expecting a dark comedy similar to HBO’s Six Feet Under and of course, Japan’s Oscar-winning Departures. But Chan isn’t interested in walking down that path, at least not explicitly since his story is leaning more towards the dramatic territory.
This brings us to the biggest surprise in recent memory for the Hong Kong cinema and that is, seeing Wong and Hui play their roles straight rather than going for the comfort zone typically associated with their respective works. How time has changed but as actors, it’s understandable that a career evolution to break free from the norm is nothing unusual in the world of cinema.
The story follows Dominic Ngai (Dayo Wong), whose wedding planning business is in shambles due to the pandemic and economic downturn. He is also riddled with debt and chances of recovery are slim to none. Until Ming (Paul Chun Pui), Dominic’s girlfriend’s (Catherine Chau’s Jade) uncle offers him a chance to take over his funeral business. It was barely Dominic’s forte but he accepted it anyway since according to him, nothing comes worse than poverty. But Dominic has to deal with Ming’s business associate, Master Man Kwok (Michael Hui), a Taoist priest who conforms to the strict rules of how the funeral business is done.
Naturally, the two don’t see things eye to eye, particularly Man’s traditional approach doesn’t bode well with Dominic’s showy business ethics. We also learn about Man’s troubled family life back home: His estranged daughter Yuet (Michelle Wai), who works as a paramedic has to put up with her father’s stubborn attitude and is often irritated by his misogynistic remark that “women are filthy” due to his old-school ancestral belief. His son Ben (Chu Pak-Hong), in the meantime, is a married man whose wife and son are Catholic. He is supposed to inherit his father’s teaching since he’s been assisting him during the funeral services. But unlike his father, Ben sees his profession as a Taoist priest more like a job that pays.
Chan, who co-wrote the screenplay alongside Cheng Wai-Kei treads the morbid subject carefully without resorting to overwrought TVB drama-style histrionics. The story’s main theme of the titular “break the hell’s gates” is thoroughly explored with fascinating details, notably how the Taoist funeral rituals are performed. We see Man dressed in a robe chanting scriptures while the background is filled with musical noises of varied instruments from cymbals to drums and erhus. Subsequent moments of breaking the tiles and circling the fire while swinging the sword, which are parts of the ritual believed to repel evil spirits, are all elegantly captured by Anthony Pun‘s atmospheric cinematography.
The movie also explores Dominic’s point of view, a rookie (or Man likes to call him an “amateur”) who learns the trade of the funeral business. This, in turn, allows Chan to incorporate subtle comedy moments, which can be seen in Dominic’s innovative ways of making money with his “tailor-made” funeral services (the earlier scene revolving around an intricately-made, full-scale paper car comes to mind). Chan’s assured direction continues with the resonant theme of family conflicts and the stark contrast between tradition (Man) and modernity (Dominic), resulting in the latter’s two actors playing off each other well with their impressively rare dramatic turns.
As proven in last year’s record-breaking hit A Guilty Conscience, Wong brings nuance to his role as Dominic and his most defining moment comes from the final scene — a poignant speech related to challenging the tradition of “breaking the hell’s gates” customs. His co-star Michael Hui, who previously proved his worth transcending from his well-known comedy background to the uncharted drama territory in his award-winning supporting role in Where the Wind Blows, finally gets his chance to earn another breakthrough — a full-fledged dramatic actor playing a rigid Taoist priest and a widowed father to his two children. Come award time, it would be a crime not to nominate Wong and Hui in the acting category.
The movie also benefits from solid supporting turns including Chu Pak-Hong and Michelle Wai, where the latter’s performance stands out the most as the frustrating daughter trapped in the never-ending dispute with her father and her brother. She certainly comes a long way from her acting days mostly relegated to either minor or thankless roles. But credits to Chan, who sees something in Wai, offering her the chance to stretch her acting prowess as a co-lead in Ready or Knot and its superior sequel, Ready o/r Rot. Wai’s third collaboration with Chan is easily her best acting to date and I wouldn’t be surprised if she emerges as a front runner for next year’s Hong Kong Film Awards.
If there’s any flaw, Chu Wan-Pin’s score tends to get overly intrusive in key emotional moments but such a minor shortcoming doesn’t detract me from viewing The Last Dance as one of the best Hong Kong movies of the year.