The tender and pressing film about an aging woman-loving-woman couple in Hong Kong is a reminder of the socio-political strides still to come, President Daryl Cheong writes.

When we think of queer media, we often think of young coming-of-age discovery and love, or an exploration of sex and sexuality. 

What if there is none of this? 

All Shall Be Well opens with an aging woman-loving-woman couple on a hike. There seems to be nothing special about this moment — it doesn’t drive any plot, nor does it fit into the general linearity of the film. Yet, it is precisely its insignificance that makes this moment so special: a mundanity afforded by their decades-long relationship, a rarity in queer media that seldom concerns itself with our queer elders.

So, when the follow-up scene is one without dialogue as the couple moves around the kitchen making breakfast, the natural rhythm of their movements and synchronicity evoke the extent and magic of their relationship without saying too much.  

Then, everything changes when Pat (Lin Lin Li) passes away. Without a final will, her partner Angie (Patra Au) struggles to keep her apartment and finances taken care of, after years of dependence on Pat. When Pat’s brother and his family make quietly disrespectful moves that disregard Pat’s final burial wishes and challenge Angie’s security with the house, Angie comes face-to-face with the structural issues still confronting queer people in Hong Kong. 

Perhaps what makes the film particularly exceptional is its representation of complexity within an Asian culture. When portraying Pat’s brother and his family, director Ray Yeung attempts to nuance their motivations. The mother, Mei (Hui So Ying), decides against a sea burial on the advice of a spiritual master. The son, Victor (Leung Chung Hang), eyes Angie and Pat’s apartment amid his struggle to make ends meet and afford a house. The father, Shing (Tai Bo), feels a need to exercise his masculinity as the eldest of the family. Juxtaposed against the many moments of bonding with Angie and Pat throughout the film, their decisions on Pat’s estate therefore create a bittersweet richness that simultaneously expresses the complexities and contradictions of an Asian culture still ruled by patriarchy, folk traditions, and economic challenges. 

In highlighting these issues through Angie’s perspective, Yeung underscores the structural changes needed for the queer community in Hong Kong. Whether this be a political need to simply allow queer partners to be listed as a next-of-kin, or the social adaptation of traditions to allow queer partners to be part of final rites as family and not “just a friend”, the inertia towards socio-political change is proven problematic through the experiences of Angie. 

Patra Au’s turn as Angie is perhaps the best part about the film. In moments of stoicism, Au manages to convey a richness of emotions and underlying pains, just by sitting in a chair and looking into the distance. Her presence anchors a film that grapples with many ideas and commentary. 

By the end of the film, we return to the hiking scene. It is as if, within this queer love, an eternity is afforded outside of the confines of linearity and socio-political baggage littered in between the bookending scenes of the hike. 

We return to Pat and Angie’s Eden. 

Here, as Petra Au’s Angie breaks into the biggest smile we’ve seen in a while, Au conjures a sense of warmth and queer joy that affirms a certain hope both in spite of and because of all that plagues a queer couple’s existence in society. That a single smile is sufficient to overcome the struggles we had previously seen speaks much of Au’s performance.

Significantly, the Singapore International Film Festival programmed this film under their Standpoint section, that highlights films with viewpoints that integrate the personal with the sociopolitical. Through this lens, we are reminded that the film is ultimately taking a stand. 

Some audiences might find discomfort in the TVB-esque dialogue that struggles to find space against the contemplative moments of silence in the film, or characters that seem one-dimensional and single-minded in their motivations. Yet, reminded of the stance of the film, perhaps these decisions for simplicity effectively propose a message intended for a mainstream and general audience. Tugging at a viewer’s heartstrings to call for change is perhaps where Yeung shines best as a filmmaker with this work. After all, the strong identification we experience with Angie speaks to Yeung’s abilities. 

Even as we grow personally attached to Angie, we are reminded of the many issues and challenges we must overcome for true queer equality and acceptance within mainstream societies, least of all conservative Asian ones. Watching the film in the context of the 26 November 2024 ruling where Hong Kong’s top court upheld inheritance rights and equal housing, All Shall Be Well becomes a poignant and revolutionary reminder of the continued fight to come. 

All Shall Be Well will have a repeat screening on 3 December (Tuesday), 5pm at Oldham Theatre.