Reviews
The Last Dance
Reviewed by Stephen Pye
A wonderful exploration of tradition, grief, and mortality The Last Dance is an unexpected change of pace for Anselm Chan Mau-Yin, a director known for the rom coms Ready Or Knot (2021) and Ready Or Rot (2023). Chan's latest reunites two of the biggest names in Hong Kong comedy with Dayo Wong and Michael Hui working together for the first time since The Magic Touch (1992). Hui ruled the Hong Kong box office in the 1970s and 1980s, directing and starring in a run of blockbuster comedies that reinvigorated Cantonese language cinema, and Dayo Wong came to fame as a stand-up in the 1990s before moving into acting. This pairing of comedy legends presents an unlikely choice for Chan's study of the business of death; fortunately, they rise to the occasion.
After losing his wedding planner job during the pandemic, Dominic Ngai (Wong) accepts an offer from funeral director Ming (Paul Chun) to assume his share of a business conducting traditional Taoist ceremonies. The deal requires Dominic to work alongside Ming's old partner Man (Hui), an austere Taoist Master for whom the role is less a job and more his life's calling, an attitude that clashes with Dominic's commercial approach. Hui brings considerable gravitas to his performance. Strict and demanding, Man is emotionally remote from his children. Eldest Ben (Tommy Chu) begrudgingly follows the family trade, although his wife wants him to convert to Catholicism, and daughter Yuet (Michelle Wai) resents her father's insistence that women are forbidden to perform funeral rites because menstruation makes them unclean.
There's one moment of dark humour when Dominic makes a terrible gaffe at a funeral, but otherwise Chan maintains a serious, weighty tone. The pace is unhurried, and while Chu Wan-Pin's score can be emotionally florid, the performances never veer into melodrama. The central dynamic between Man and Dominic follows a familiar arc – each has something to learn from the other – but the performances, rich in intimately observed details, elevate the material. Wong is terrific, mining unexpected depths from a character who initially appears so shallow, while Michelle Wai, a fixture in Chan's films, expertly communicates the pathos and pain of the second child fighting for her father's respect. She has been rightly lauded by film critics in Hong Kong for her performance, which is both naturalistic as well as unflinching as both a paramedic and then carer for her stubborn and often misogynist father.
Chan's film captures Hong Kong's unique funeral culture in all its ritualistic pageantry: the final scenes illustrate this perfectly, allowing the audience to experience the sheer beauty of the ancient ceremonies in all their beguiling splendour, whilst at the same time upending the prohibition on women's participation in them.
The Last Dance is a moving, serious and often bittersweet celebration of the complexities of Hong Kong life and death . A window into a world few of us will ever experience.
After losing his wedding planner job during the pandemic, Dominic Ngai (Wong) accepts an offer from funeral director Ming (Paul Chun) to assume his share of a business conducting traditional Taoist ceremonies. The deal requires Dominic to work alongside Ming's old partner Man (Hui), an austere Taoist Master for whom the role is less a job and more his life's calling, an attitude that clashes with Dominic's commercial approach. Hui brings considerable gravitas to his performance. Strict and demanding, Man is emotionally remote from his children. Eldest Ben (Tommy Chu) begrudgingly follows the family trade, although his wife wants him to convert to Catholicism, and daughter Yuet (Michelle Wai) resents her father's insistence that women are forbidden to perform funeral rites because menstruation makes them unclean.
There's one moment of dark humour when Dominic makes a terrible gaffe at a funeral, but otherwise Chan maintains a serious, weighty tone. The pace is unhurried, and while Chu Wan-Pin's score can be emotionally florid, the performances never veer into melodrama. The central dynamic between Man and Dominic follows a familiar arc – each has something to learn from the other – but the performances, rich in intimately observed details, elevate the material. Wong is terrific, mining unexpected depths from a character who initially appears so shallow, while Michelle Wai, a fixture in Chan's films, expertly communicates the pathos and pain of the second child fighting for her father's respect. She has been rightly lauded by film critics in Hong Kong for her performance, which is both naturalistic as well as unflinching as both a paramedic and then carer for her stubborn and often misogynist father.
Chan's film captures Hong Kong's unique funeral culture in all its ritualistic pageantry: the final scenes illustrate this perfectly, allowing the audience to experience the sheer beauty of the ancient ceremonies in all their beguiling splendour, whilst at the same time upending the prohibition on women's participation in them.
The Last Dance is a moving, serious and often bittersweet celebration of the complexities of Hong Kong life and death . A window into a world few of us will ever experience.