The Rich House (1942) shows Hong Kong cinema's uniqueness
This film, a true blending of East and West, is one of just a half-dozen Hong Kong films from the early 1940s to have survived.
Hong Kong cinema'suniqueness is entertainingly displayed in , one of just a half-dozen early 1940s local features to have survived into the 21st century. A true blending of East and West, with a central romance between a cafe singer and bohemian author that's more typical of Parisian garrets than Kowloon flats, this 1942 drama's distinctiveness is underlined by the kind of cosmopolitan ambience one associated at the time with Shanghai's Putonghua-dialect cinema rather than home-grown Cantonese.
The Shanghai vibe is no accident: director Hung Suk-wan (great uncle of Sammo Hung Kam-bo) was a Shanghai Academy of Arts graduate who began his movie career in that city. Meanwhile, the film's then 21-year-old female lead, Lo Ming, was a Shanghai ingénue temporarily residing in the colony where her fluency in dialects resulted in her headlining and other Hong Kong features.
Lo sparkles as Ah Lai, a waitress who does what she must to make ends meet, even if it means submitting to the advances of a slimy playboy (Fung Ying-seung). Refreshingly, Lui Lun's script is non-judgmental about Ah Lai's sexual history, an attitude mirrored by the open-mindedness of her boyfriend, novelist Yu Fan (Cheung Wood-yau).
Cheung's performance is also refreshing, giving Cantonese film fans a rare glimpse of the then 30-year-old star in an age-appropriate role, exuding a degree of magnetism absent during the height of his career in the 1950s.
Equally notable is the comedy relief provided by Fan's best friends, artist Fong Wah (Yiu Ping) and his "favourite model" turned wife, Sally (Yung Yuk-yi). Fong's predilection for painting nudes and Sally's screwball humour are unusually playful and sophisticated for the time.
Her sordid surroundings to the contrary, Ah Lai radiates a variety of Hollywood glamour that contemporary audiences would have easily associated with China's then favourite foreign sweetheart, Deanna Durbin. From Ah Lai's coiffure and make-up to her gestures while warbling by the piano, she channels the Canadian idol — that is, until the story takes a darker tack.
The shift in tone is foreshadowed by yet another Western allusion when the lovebirds go to see . MGM's 1936 blockbuster serves as a harbinger to a major plot twist.
Although it's thoroughly mainstream escapist fare, potently acknowledges the struggle then in progress against the Japanese invaders across the border. The patriotic message is somewhat oblique due to the strictures of colonial censorship, yet even such watered-down references would have been strictly taboo in early 1940s Shanghai pictures. Nearly three-quarters of a century later, they are a cogent reminder of Hong Kong's significance as a Chinese film production centre distinct from the mainland.
