NYAFF XXII Review: Anastasia Tsang’s A LIGHT NEVER GOES OUT, A Figurative And Fond Hands-On Love Story
I grew up with a number of hobbies and passions. Between drawing, music and even acting, I was certain I was going to take up one of these. Don’t ask me how I got here instead or we’ll be here until the bar closes…
Indeed though, if you’ve ever taken up the arts or any kind of artisan work, chances are you can identify with films that hinge on craftsmanship as a crucial element to drive a story forward. The emotional journey a character goes through to maintain what feels in large part like a dying art is certainly what takes shape when looking at Anastasia Tsang’s feature directing debut, A Light Never Goes Out.
Grief and loss are added to the mix in Tsang’s freshman feature, taking centerstage as Mei-hsiang (Sylvia Chang) is still struggling to cope with the untimely passing of her husband, Bill (Simon Yam), six weeks earlier. Convinced from time to time of his presence, her mourning is often a point of visible frustration for their daughter Prism (Cecilia Choi) who has her own priorities pending her upcoming travels to Australia to get married in a year.
One late evening, Mei-hsiang wanders off to Bill’s workshop where, for years, Bill dedicated his life to creating and building neon signs through tube-bending methods handed down to him from his master prior. She bumps into Lou (Henick Chou), Bill’s only apprentice who’d been squatting at the workshop, and only just finding out right then about Bill’s death.
As Mei-hsiang struggles to keep up with the remnants of her husband’s belongings, the workshop becomes an in-roads for both her and Lou as the two take up a partnership to help fulfill Bill’s final wishes. What remains to be seen, however, is if whether or not Mei-hsiang can maintain her newfound inspiration, beset by technological advancement and the added financial and legal pressures of the business, and the lingering trauma and process of mourning she and her family still faces.
A good deal of Bill’s economic shortfalls also stemmed from providing free services for clients during SARS and Swine Flu pandemics. It’s an interesting addendum to consider as the film is partly constructed as an homage to tube-bending artisans of the past century who’ve helped keep the skylines and urban building fixtures lit up during a prosperous era for Hong Kong. The work itself foundates a compelling love story carried with brilliance and gusto by Chang and Yam, and the actors who play their younger counterparts.
The most difficult parts, in my view, came after most of the film passed and we’ve already reached a pinnacle of sorts where Mei-hsiang’s confidence and hope is up with Bill’s lab becoming more and more familiar to her in his wake. Dramatic scenes occur in succession that further accrue a reasonable sense of internal conflict within Mei-hsiang that it’s a gut-punch when characters perform action and say things that result in the increasing emotional strain.
As hard as it is to watch, it’s also quite relevant given that it’s a very real penchant for a lot of people, particularly those still just going through the motions and enduring tragedy at their own pace, on top of life’s other surmounting woes. The big payoff toward the end of the film, after all said and done, is the creation of a large sign Bill never got to complete for a client. It’s a visual stunner, and a hearty preamble to a proper close that aptly culminates the story of a family that, assuredly, only has each other.
Tsang’s A Light Never Goes Out brings to focus a number of things while serving as tribute to Hong Kong of yesteryear. The tube-bending scenes provide a pleasantry and a genuine energy to the film, particularly as the actors themselves were also trained by Wu Chi Kai, a consultant on the film whose expertise on neon lighting spans nearly four decades. Even some of the bumps and scars the characters attain during the process proffer up some ample authenticity for Tsang’s impressive and spirited inaugural feature production.
Native New Yorker. Lover of all things pizza, chocolate, pets, and good friends. Karaoke hero. Left of center. Survivor. Fond supporter of cult, obscure and independent cinema - especially fond of Asian movies and global action cinema. Author of the bi-weekly Hit List. Founder and editor of Film Combat Syndicate. Still, very much, only human.
You must log in to post a comment.