The Last Dance 破地獄

"Only through kinship, cooperation and compromise do the tethers that bind us stay in place."

"Life is a journey; when you reach the terminus, you must catch the bus to the next place. If you don't, you will wander as an unsettled ghost."  Souls can only catch the bus to the next place by "breaking hell's gate" (破地獄). This male-dominated Taoist ceremony, the titular last dance, opens the gate to the next world. 

This ritual, pivotal to the film The Last Dance, symbolises the transition from life to death and the struggle to find peace in the afterlife. I've witnessed this dance many times but never fully comprehended its significance. 

The Last Dance changed that and proved that the Hong Kong film industry can still produce films with a unique quirkiness. Masterfully mixing tragedy and comedy, director Anselm Chan creates a captivating narrative that doesn't spoil either element. 

Exploring profound questions, themes of death, birth, the clash of the old and new, and family complications, they all flow here. The role of women is affirmed as this film delves deeply into the complexities of family dynamics, making it an acutely relatable experience. 

The setting is contemporary Hong Kong, battered by Covid, migration, and the hassles of day-to-day existence interwoven with the spiritual world. Every frame drips with remorse and regret, tinged with caustic humour. 

Micheal Hui (許冠文), famed for his comedic roles, gives a commanding but understated performance as a Taoist priest facing a changing world and ageing. His character is a central figure, guiding the audience through the entanglements of life, death, and the afterlife. A superb cast supports him. Dayo Wong (黃子華) is the moderniser. His wedding planning business collapsed, so he's taking an opportunity in a funeral parlour. 

The priest's stoic daughter, played with depth by Michelle Wai  (衛詩雅), evokes the struggles of women against tradition that smothers them. If you don't cry, you need to question your humanity. Still, in the next moment, you'll laugh out loud. 

The unsettling morgue scenes will be familiar to most cops but cause gasps around me in the cinema. And yet, the dressing of corpses is tender. 

The thrust of the tale is conflicting interests, aspirations, and filial piety that pull the characters in many directions. Strong performances from Wong and Hui are the mainstays with a generational conflict that serves as a microcosm of Hong Kong's striving. 

Correct behaviour, order, and naming in the family and society overcome the disorder and moral degradation of the present era. The priest seeks a return to an older, purer tradition. Yet, as the new world encroaches, tradition must give some ground to remain relevant and fulfil the anchoring role crucial to societal cohesion.

The Last Dance metaphorically represents the changes Hong Kong is undergoing again. Ancient forces of communion are at work between the glitzy skyscrapers, glamour boutiques, and go-for-it lifestyle. Only through kinship, cooperation and compromise do the tethers that bind us stay in place. To cut these ties set us off in a restless sea without a safe harbour.

Along with Chungking Express, In the Mood for Love, and PTU, this movie will enter the pantheon of films that capture the mood of Hong Kong at a critical juncture. The final message is one of hope, home, and wholeness.