How do you make a lovely, life-affirming film about death that appeals to general audiences just about everywhere? Up-and-coming Hong Kong filmmaker Anselm Chan has the answer in “The Last Dance,” in which a cash-strapped former wedding planner and a stern old Taoist priest become unlikely partners in the funeral business. Boasting an all-star cast headed by Cantonese comedy icons Dayo Wong (“Table for Six”) and Michael Hui (“Security Unlimited,” “Where the Wind Blows”) playing it mostly straight, Chan’s handsomely crafted third feature is a poignant drama about finding meaning in life from the passing of loved ones and the rituals of final farewells.
This respectful and uplifting journey into Hong Kong’s unique and fascinating funeral traditions opens locally on Nov. 9 and in the U.K. and Ireland on Nov. 15 — just the start of what’s sure to be wide international theatrical exposure.
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After making a mark with his rowdy 2021 romcom “Ready or Knot” and its superior sequel “Ready or Rot” (2023), Anselm Chan steps up a gear with a mature drama about the Taoist funeral tradition known as “break hell’s gates.” As opening text informs us, this involves a Taoist priest rushing into hell with a fiery sword to break hell’s gates, thus freeing souls of the dead and helping them reincarnate. Considered a mainstream ritual in Hong Kong funerals, “break hell’s gates” is listed on the First Intangible Cultural Heritage Inventory of Hong Kong.
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This valuable information gives viewers an immediate basic understanding of the film’s landscape. For those who instantly associate Taoist movie priests with the hopping vampires and hungry ghosts of Hong Kong’s goeng-sin horror-comedy heyday of the 1980s (like “Mr. Vampire” and “Kung Fu Zombie”), “The Last Dance” offers an appealing and insightful look at the everyday life and work of these religious and community leaders.
Saddled with huge debts after the pandemic ruined his wedding planner business, 50-something Dominic Ngai (Wong) is offered a half-share in a funeral business by Ming (Paul Chun-pai), the retiring uncle of his longterm girlfriend Jade (Catherine Chau). The only hitch is getting the approval of Ming’s business partner, Master Man Kwok (Hui), a Taoist priest whose unparalleled reputation for performing funeral rites is equaled only by his strict observance of tradition.
As expected, things get off to a rocky start when go-getter Dominic and his team of bright young things start marketing jazzed-up ceremonies and chintzy merchandise that attracts customers and sorely displeases Man. “We feed off the dead. At least have respect,” Man says to the funeral planner-come-lately.
Dominic may have trouble adapting to dealing with the dead for a living, but as the screenplay broadens its scope and brings a gallery of intriguing customers and members of Man’s family into the frame we slowly start to witness his effect on the living.
Though highly respected by everyone, widower Man has problems at home. His married son Ben (Tommy Chu) is expected to follow in dad’s footsteps but lacks the required belief and passion. Forty-ish single daughter Yuet (Michelle Wai), a paramedic, is involved in a dead-end relationship with a married doctor. Owing to her father’s belief that women’s menstruation breaks the all-important power of ancestors, Yuet has never felt truly and unconditionally loved by Man, despite idolizing him and studying his ritual performances.
Here and elsewhere, Chan shows a well-judged willingness to raise questions about how some aspects of Taoism, such as gender roles, relate to modern society, and whether some re-evaluation might be worthwhile. Neither didactic nor gratuitous, these questions are neatly streamed into the screenplay and will enhance the film’s appeal for many viewers.
As he gradually establishes an understanding with Man and begins to appreciate his responsibility to families of the bereaved, Dominic plays vital roles in helping Ben and Yuet deal with their respective issues. There’s a warmth and easygoing naturalism to Wong’s performance that makes these scenes both compelling and rewarding.
The same applies to Dominic’s handling of several delicate arrangements with the dead. The most memorable is when devastated mother Ms. Yan (Rosa Maria Velasco) asks Dominic to attend to her young son, who has been in the morgue for six months and whom she wants to preserve in case of a medical miracle, as people do with cryogenics. Regarded as a nutcase, she has been refused service everywhere else. Going against Man’s instructions Dominic undertakes a task that, at first, may be difficult for some to watch. But as his work continues and Man arrives to help, this sequence becomes something else. Their tender care for the body and the reaction of Ms. Yan at finally having her wishes respected is heartbreakingly beautiful to witness. As Dominic says to Man in response to the master’s role of transcending souls of the departed, “The agent transcends the soul of the living.”
It’s a treat to watch Hui and Wong in their first film together since 1992’s “Magic Touch.” Sure, most of this is played straight as it ought to be, but there are still some lovely little scenes when Dominic and a more-relaxed Man kick back and chew the fat about this life, and the next. The rest of the cast is spot-on, with Wai a particular standout as the troubled daughter whose frustrations and disappointments guide the story to a rousing finale that’s bound to make lists of memorable movie funeral scenes. Anthony Pun’s polished cinematography in Hong Kong’s Hung Hom funeral district, terrific production design by Yiu Hon-man and Lee Pik-kwan’s excellent costuming round out this attractively packaged item.
