Eric Tsang Hing Weng

What could possibly turn a shy, quiet nerd into a voyeur? A long, lazy summer coupled with endless boredom? Sometimes through his binoculars and other times loitering on campus, a secondary student seeks to get an early taste of what university life has in store for him, dropping in on lectures, stalking the object of his gaze and lurking within her personal spaces. Feeding on a voyeuristic and borderline intrusive look into the lives of others, the voyeur remains at distance an idle walker and casual observer of a time and place charged with passion of a political (and sexual) nature, until his path crosses with hers and the two finally converge…

Room 12 is a place where people leave their final wills. A boy arrives at Room 12 and meets the owner of the place. They have a strange encounter and each of them understand more about what the other is thinking about.

It was raining non-stop when Hong Kong was rocked by the tumultuous events of October 2014 (the "umbrella movement"). In a fixed sequence shot, the film captured students meeting each other in the hall, in the rooms, discussing, arguing about or remaining indifferent to the event, while it continued to rain outside.

Hoping to give her daughter a better life, a single mother decided to work part-time in a convenience store. Yet, the lack of night-time child care service puts her in a dilemma.

In a traditional fishing village where most youngsters have left to work in the city, the older generations are left behind. Ren, a widow who lives in the village helps her neighbour, Mrs Wah, to deliver a gift to her son, Chung in the city. Ren finds out that Chung is leading a harsh life. Back in the village, there is no one with whom she can share this secret. The only refuge from the sleepless night is her deceased husband. A Thousand Sails is a short tale about the poignant separation between city and village, mother and son, life and death. With long shots and sophisticated art direction, Eric Tsang Hing-weng compellingly captures the actors’ performances, especially that of Professor Chow Po-chung’s surprising debut.

Pak-kiu works as a gaffer while waiting for his first break in front of the camera. An inviting target of ridicule, he remains unwavering that he will rise above the sordid realities of the glamorous world of film-making with his determination to be a proper actor rather than a star. So when he is offered a bit part as a cancer patient in a new film, he jumps at the chance to practise method acting, literally getting into his character and inhabiting him through claiming membership of a support group, which reunites him with an old classmate. However, the reunion, shrouded in a façade of altruistic motive, leaves him ill-prepared for a role in real life that is not so easily dismissed as a character in the script...

The chaos began at the Winter Solstice dinner eight years ago. The father lost his temper, the son, not able to forgive his father, ran away from home. Eight years have passed, and the family's relationship is still cold and distant. A cousin returns to Hong Kong from England and hopes to gather everyone for a Winter Solstice dinner. The long-awaited gathering prompted everyone to rethink their relationships with family members. Some choose to leave, some are back. When things are about to fall apart, it might as well be an opportunity to mend connections.

Relationships with strangers can exist in all forms, including the most intimate ones. The two of them spy on each other in an open manner, slowly, their relationship deepens, while remaining strangers.

In the spirit of autonomy, how can the voice of common people be heard and who gets to decide? Lok and his like-minded friends actively participated in the 2010 anti-rail movement through an online radio platform. Passionate about social causes, they eventually parted ways due to ideological differences on spreading their ideas and uniting the public. Fast forward to four years later, a more composed and experienced Lok remained as an organiser of various social movements, notably the Umbrella Movement. Bumping into a past comrade who is now a mere passerby, Lok reminisced about their shared pasts and less-than-amicable split. The cerebral short is also a moving coming-of-age story of Lok, now with evolved ideas, new identity and well-rounded perspectives.

Ka-long, a wanderlust graduated from the University of Hong Kong, always dreams of backpacking to many countries with his guitar. While he believes he is trapped in Hong Kong, his family thinks that he is simply wasting his life and not settling down for a better future. He is getting more uplifted after he meets Wen-wen, a girl speaks with a Taiwanese accent. While they are dating, Wen-wen makes an effort to hide her true identity from Ka-long. Can they finally resolve the undercurrent of their relationship? Let’s Get Lost ultilises the thematic motif of road movie genre – both protagonists have to embark on a journey of revealing their true identity. As a result, the film widens its scope to the geo-political differences between Hong Kong, Taiwan and China.

Secondary school student Joy's estranged family and her desire for independence have led her to work in a cafe during the summer break. Wah, a retired old man who has returned from Japan comes into Joy's life by chance and has a profound influence on her.

Lai-sing, full of aspirations as a journalist, lives in Hong Kong with his sister Kei-mei. Their parents live in Hainan since retirement while Uncle Guoyou lives in Shenzhen. The family is separated until the third anniversary of the death of Lai-sing's grandmother. According to tradition, a monument has to be erected on this occasion, which brings the family members to meet up. The reunion slowly unveils the indiscernible distances and intimacies built over time. It is only through understanding and acceptance that they would cast aside their differences and show genuine care for each other.

Liu Yang He, a landmark in Hunan province, is not only the film’s original title but also a well-known Communist folk song in China. It was written during the Agrarian Reform that precedes the Cultural Revolution. Youngsters were sent to farmlands and factories to experience intense labour. They sang to praise Chairman Mao. Kah-kah (Rain Lau) was permanently injured in an industrial accident during that time. When Kah-kah meets this amputated client (Ko Hon-man), they feel sympathy with each other and turn this sympathy into a possibility of love as if they were flowing into a river of no return. Here, Rain Lau’s sophisticated performance resembles her award-winning role in Queen of Temple Street (1990).

Leaving music school, the happy-go-lucky Ling returns to Hong Kong to her dementia-stricken father, on whom she tries to conduct music therapy. Her demurer older sister Munn, the caretaker and sole supporter of the family, watches with disapproval. Playing the piano piece her father once taught her, Ling seems to register some change in her father’s condition, a glimmer of hope amidst the abyss of oblivion. However, secret animosity and rivalry eventually leads to open conflict between the two sisters, bringing out long-time family traumas. Will music save them?

Kuen is a lounge singer on Temple Street. Her son Kakei, now a university student, returns to Hong Kong for just a few days after emigrating to Canada with his father. Kuen's colleague Kit has to work overnight and enlists Kuen’s help to take care of her young son. During the sleepless night, Kuen and Ka-kei relive their past and envisage their future through another pair of mother and son. Under the bright sun, the cycle of life and family relationships continue, made all the more touching by the nuanced moments of care and concern between each other. SHAM Ka-ki of Weeds On Fire plays the son and renders a tender and layered performance full of subtlety.