[Review] Somewhere Beyond the Mist: Are We Always Living in a Prison?

Somewhere Beyond the Mist is arguably the most unique Hong Kong film I've seen recently. Its themes are incredibly dark and heavy, and its style is a rare sight in Hong Kong cinema, making its reception among mainstream audiences predictable. However, I believe that if one truly immerses themselves in the film's atmosphere, they will undoubtedly find opportunities for reflection and inspiration.

First, I'd like to thank Distribution Workshop for inviting me to a preview screening of Somewhere Beyond the Mist two weeks ago. This was truly a film unlike any other Hong Kong movie I've seen, and its themes left a profound impression on me. The title, Somewhere Beyond the Mist (藍天白雲, literally "Blue Sky, White Clouds"), sounds incredibly poetic, evoking a sense of ease and hope. Yet, the entire film is overwhelmingly oppressive, even making one feel that hope no longer exists in real society. Those who've seen the film's trailer and promotional material will know it revolves around a case of a high school student murdering her parents. However, I believe the film's central focus isn't the case itself, but rather the various characters in the story. Through their individual circumstances, the film presents audiences with common yet often overlooked problems in real society, covering a multitude of themes. To me, this film argues that even though we live under blue skies and white clouds, seemingly unfettered, we are constantly suppressed by various societal values and traditional notions. Even if we are not literally living in a prison, we often have no choice in many matters, no true freedom.

In the film, the storylines of high school student Connie (Rachel Leung) and detective Angela (Stephy Tang) echo each other: on one hand, we watch Connie's confession, gradually unraveling the case and understanding her motives for killing her parents; on the other hand, we observe Angela's interactions with her father, understanding their relationship, and ultimately seeing how Connie's story impacts Angela. In traditional Chinese family values, it's considered natural for children to support their elderly parents. Regardless of whether parents were responsible or competent, or whether we like them, we seemingly have no choice but to care for them in their old age as an act of filial piety. In the film, Connie's father is a lecher, even engaging in promiscuous behavior with Connie's young female classmate in front of his wife and children. Although Connie's father seems to genuinely care for Connie, when he loses his temper, he violently beats her classmate and Connie's friend Eric (Zeno Koo) with a belt, and threatens her teacher, instilling fear. Connie's mother, on the other hand, is quiet and seems to constantly monitor Connie with a terrifying gaze, creating an unsettling atmosphere. Connie despises her parents, finally deciding to kill them. Afterward, in her confession, she admits to having no detailed plan, simply killing her parents and disposing of their bodies based on instinct. Her sole desire was to escape her parents and live a free life, unmonitored by them. As for Angela, though the film doesn't explicitly reveal her parents' behavior or attitudes when they were younger, Angela's dialogue suggests she has never been fond of her father; her desire was to care for her mother. Yet, fate intervenes, and we often have no choice in such matters. Angela is forced to care for her father, who suffers from cognitive impairment. Witnessing her father's declining intellect and his frequent embarrassing behavior, Angela even contemplated killing him, but she did not want to live in prison, to lose her freedom.

Connie and Angela's storylines appear to have no intersection, yet Connie's parricide subtly influences Angela, leading her to entertain the thought of killing her own father. At the same time, we can anticipate that if Connie had not killed her parents, she might have been reluctantly forced to care for them alone later in life. Although she may spend the rest of her life in prison, she feels she has escaped a true prison—one built by various societal norms. In the film's ending, we see Connie and Eric, after killing Connie's parents, spending their last moments together in the countryside before being apprehended by the police. Although this scene's colors shift from vivid to black and white, and the original blue sky and white clouds become monochrome, seeing their relaxed gait, we can discern that they are truly enjoying their lives. This film is not advocating for patricide or matricide, nor is it encouraging immediate abandonment of parents or refusal to care for them. Instead, it prompts us to reflect on how, under blue skies and white clouds, some lives remain profoundly bleak, forced into oppressive existences with no choices.

Beyond Connie and Angela's storylines, the film also recounts the campus life of Connie's classmates, compelling audiences to confront the discrimination and suppression faced by minorities in society. At school, Connie's two best friends are individuals not considered "normal" by society: an ethnic minority female classmate and a more timid male classmate, Eric. The film dedicates more time to Eric's storyline, showing how he is constantly labeled as gay because he isn't as strong as other male students. This situation is likely common in schools both in Hong Kong and abroad. Society often highly values the masculine side of men, while gentler and weaker individuals are often seen as anomalies. Some even connect a man's lack of masculinity to his sexual orientation, which is incredibly unfair to these men and sexual minorities. Concurrently, the film touches on the impact of Eric's parents and the treatment he receives on campus, ultimately leading him down a dark path, becoming an accomplice in the murder. His storyline also prompts audiences to reflect on how these common societal prejudices and discrimination lead to a series of tragedies.

Before directing Somewhere Beyond the Mist, director Cheung King-wai made several documentaries, including KJ: Music and Life. These experiences likely imbue Somewhere Beyond the Mist with a strong sense of realism. In the film's opening scene, we don't see Connie killing her parents, but rather Angela's father getting lost on a platform. Afterward, back at home, we see a scene of Angela, her husband, and father eating together. The shots in these two scenes are very simple, with minimal movement or camera work, and they are relatively long takes, only cutting to another scene after a period. Essentially, these two scenes already exemplify the entire film's narrative and cinematographic style: this film is about the everyday lives of ordinary people, primarily filmed with relatively simple shots and not much editing. While this style might slow down the film's overall pace and bore some viewers, it simultaneously grants the audience time and atmosphere to feel the film's emotions and reflect on its themes.