Lio Chi Heng

Lio is a writer and the film adaptation of her novel Diago was one of the competitors in the Official Selection Competition of the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival 2010.

Telling a good story about Macao

08 2015 | Issue 8

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Film still of Macau Stories 3  Photo courtesy of Audio-Visual CUT Association


In recent years, more and more filmmakers have come to Macao for location shooting, hoping to capture its dazzling Cotai Strip and unique urbanscape on film. In these movies, Macao often serves as nothing but just a backdrop.


There are certain kinds of movies that possess Macao elements to a larger extent, featuring scene after scene shot in places familiar to us while recounting stories about the city in a serious manner. However, the city depicted in these films is not at all the same one inhabited by us. What is captured on film revolves around the titillating subjects of gambling, prostitution, drug dealing, robbery, and murder. To make such a typically intriguing “Macao Story” film, a star-studded cast is essential but a hefty budget is only optional.


Though these films are capable of making box office history, we probably will shake our heads about these directors’ take on our city. It’s not that we are not willing to come to terms with Macao’s “dark side”, but rather that we feel an exploited Macao feels like a fake one. So, how should directors approach the subject to leave us convinced that the Macao they portray is closer to the truth? Well, it should at least evoke Macao’s indigenous way of life, for one thing. It goes without saying that our local ethos can be summed up as “a melting pot of eastern and western cultures”, which is our city’s signature strength. However, as the most exciting stories come from life, the cultural elements incorporated into the “melting pot of East and West” can purely be perceived as a feeling or a memory, nothing more.


The Macao Stories series (almost developed into a “brand name” of its own), illustrates the journey of these short films about Macao starting out as immature efforts, then learning to follow a more disciplined structure, from the filming techniques to the storytelling method in the three installments. The short stories that impressed viewers the most are the ones that tell the story well without the trappings of overblown grandiosity. It all comes down to having a good script—especially when we have yet to develop anything that we can call our own, telling a genuinely good story that captures the flavour of Macao is particularly important.


In May, I attended the second Guangdong–Hong Kong–Macao Film Exchange Programme where I heard more than ten directors from Hong Kong and Macao recount stories about planning their shooting. To be honest, I was aghast by the pompous and clumsy way they expressed themselves, who seemed lost in a world of their make-believe. While taking a larger-than-life world view, they were not capable of telling their stories well. Given strictly five minutes by the moderator to make their speech, those who failed to do so blamed the time for being too insufficient while three young directors from Macao managed to deliver their stories flawlessly. I couldn’t help but applaud their no-nonsense speech delivered with aplomb, and even more so, their down-to-earth stories that the general public can relate to.


Chan Ka Keong’s Passing Rain presents the notion that the impermanence of gain and loss is ultimately transient in human life through the portrayal of six characters. Choi Ian Sin sheds light on the sisterhood of “massage girls” working in a sensitive profession while Emily Chan tells the continuing story about a light-hearted romance as her 40-minute short film Yesterday Once More will be adapted into a full-length feature of 90 minutes. The Macao qualities present in these three stories cannot be “fabricated”; rather, they come from events happening to and around the directors. Reading the film synopsis for a few minutes is sure to tug at your heartstrings.


Cinema is an imaginative art form. Storylines thrive on the writer’s wild imagination, but no matter how high and far you go with your imagination, you have to keep your feet firmly on the ground to give meaning to the fictional story.


In other words, we need to have good scripts that show indigenous sensibilities. A good script means at least two things: a meaningful story and a strong Macao character. A story told from our own perspective comes first, and turning it to a good movie next. Only films made with such sensibilities can make their way to the market as a competitive contender.


(Films and the development of cultural and creative industries in Macao series 2)