The almost unimaginable grief of a husband and father is recounted in Daddy, a poignant drama inspired by the true story of a 15-year-old boy, shocked by the murders of his mother and sister in Hong Kong in 2010. Featuring a brilliant lead performance by Shawn Lau, played by “Daddy” in a low voice produces great emotional impact – giving great depth and complexity to the protagonist’s unwavering determination to continue to love his son and understand the cause of this tragedy. With expert tonal control over a non-linear screenplay that follows the aftermath of a crime and addresses the love story that brought this family into existence, writer-director Philip Yeung’s meticulously crafted film should find a large and appreciative audience when it opens in Hong Kong. on December 5, after its world premiere in competition in Tokyo.
A major change of pace from the flashy, trivial façade of 2022’s fact-based cops-and-triads saga “Where the Wind Blows,” “Papa” continues Young’s interest in true crime stories, which includes the Young-produced “Sparring Partner.” Here, he moves closer to the tone of his 2015 hit “Port of Call,” which is about the murder of a teenage girl. This film’s probing examination of the human reaction to a horrific act of violence is found in this study of an ordinary man with extraordinary sobriety and a reserve of love.
A quiet man who found love and began raising his family later in life than most of his friends and family, Yuen (Lau) is first seen opening a 24-hour restaurant run by him and his wife Yin (Joe Kuo, excellent) in the bustling Tsuen Wan district. The reason he sets up the tables and chairs so slowly is explained by the police presence at his family’s apartment directly across the road. Earlier that morning, without warning, his 15-year-old son Ming (Dylan Su) killed his mother and younger sister Grace (Lenny Hong) with a meat cleaver.
According to Ming, who is passionately concerned with environmental issues and animal welfare, he acted after voices in his head told him the planet was overcrowded and killing people. “My father thinks he didn’t take good care of me, that’s why I did it, but that’s not true – this was going to happen no matter what,” Ming says during his trial. A clear diagnosis of the boy’s mental condition was not revealed until later. This plays a crucial role in audiences connecting with Yuen and understanding how he can maintain his love for his son while dealing with the kind of guilt that no explanation can erase.
Chapter titles with names of family members take us back and forward in time. As Yuen goes through the harrowing process of arranging funerals and starting life again on his own, flashbacks reveal his beautiful romance with Yin, the waitress at his restaurant with a beautiful heart and love of life who doesn’t care that he is much older than her. A typical upbeat scene of their relationship finds them renting a karaoke room at the crack of dawn on their wedding day. The arrival of Ming and Grace and the demands of running a 24-hour business show Yuen as someone who may not use many words, and sometimes stammers his way through as a father, but whose love for his family is deep and true.
Nowadays, Yuen is trying to learn more about mental illness and how it can help him treat Ming. In a heartbreaking moment long after the horrific incident, Yuen shows his vulnerability by breaking down in tears of shame after hiring an escort and being robbed by her employers before anything happens. Here and in many other short passages, Young creates a vivid impression of a man trying to process the incomprehensible and find a way forward. Particularly poignant are Yuen’s visits to the psychiatric prison where Ming is held, where every word and gesture is precious in his quest to find answers and hope.
Young moves seamlessly between past and present, creating something closer to stream of consciousness than a traditional story. Technology plays a strong role, with the warm amber tones and use of slow motion of the distant past contrasting with the more casual and formal look of the present. The clever use of narrow depth-of-field photography emphasizes Yuen’s isolation. He is often seen in sharp focus while people and objects around him are blurred and blurred. Other times, Yung will begin with out-of-focus sequences, with the precision of an image that slowly builds perfectly timed for emotional impact.
Lau, who has starred in Hong Kong films from 1986’s “Silent Love” to the more recent “Future Warriors,” was terrific in one of his best roles. As a man neither accustomed to talking much nor showing a wide range of emotions, Lau’s beautifully measured performance leaves viewers in no doubt with the overwhelming sadness and pain behind his calm and thoughtful exterior.