RETURN TO FIRST IMPRESSIONS
RETURN TO CHA REVIEW OF BOOKS AND FILMS

Click HERE to read all entries in Cha on Fly Me to the Moon.

Sasha Chuk (director), Fly Me to the Moon 但願人長久, 2023. 112 min.

Every era of Hong Kong cinema has produced at least one film that captures the complexities of migration and the alienation of those caught between worlds. Ann Hui’s Song of the Exile (1990) and Peter Chan’s Comrades: Almost a Love Story (1996) are just two notable examples. These stories bring us closer to the people who are forever questioning where they should call home.

Sasha Chuk’s feature directorial debut first caught my attention in late 2021, during its pre-production phase. Chuk—acting as writer, director, and actor—posted open casting calls on the film’s official Instagram account, and I found myself returning repeatedly to its synopsis. Although Fly Me to the Moon (2024) may appear to be a romance on the surface, it is a chronology of migration, alienation, and shattered dreams.

In literature and popular culture, the term “American Dream” is widely recognised as a symbol of stability and the pursuit of a better life. A similar but more ambiguous concept has long existed in Hong Kong cinema and television. Unlike America, which has historically been portrayed as a land of promise, Hong Kong has served as both a refuge for earlier generations of migrants and an assembly point for families seeking a fresh start. For lack of a definitive term, let us call it “Hong Kong Dreaming”—an ever-evolving aspiration with no fixed destination.

This yearning for stability and success in Hong Kong is reflected in the city’s towering high-rises, dazzling neon lights, and teeming streets. “Hong Kong Dreaming” is a motif that ran through Comrades: Almost a Love Story, in which two almost-Hongkongers navigate their own turbulent journeys. It is a theme that also pervades Fly Me to the Moon. The parallels between the two films are striking—the avoidance of native tongues, the desire to assimilate through fluent Cantonese, and the evocative imagery of McDonald’s: a workplace for struggling migrants, a site of fleeting happiness, and a symbol of both alienation and belonging. In Fly Me to the Moon, these elements serve as the backdrop for a father-daughter relationship fraught with complexity—an unrealised “Hong Kong Dreaming.”

Min (Wu Kang-ren), a Hunan native, aspires to build a new life in Hong Kong for his young family. However, when his wife and two daughters—Yuen (Chloe Hui) and Kuet (Skylar Pang)—arrive in 1997, his dreams quickly unravel. The family soon discovers that Min is a drug addict and a petty thief. The same father who once shared McDonald’s Happy Meals with his daughters is also a man who begs for money and drifts in and out of prison. Yuen and Kuet are thrust into unfamiliar streets and schools, where their language is neither spoken nor understood. Their native tongue becomes both a source of alienation and a shield against the microaggressions they face as newcomers.

^{A pivotal scene set on a badminton court}

By their teenage years in 2007, Yuen (Yoyo Tse) and Kuet (Natalie Hsu) are still struggling to escape the stigma of being outsiders. Yuen, caught in a toxic relationship, mistakes control for love and attention. A pivotal scene set on a badminton court foreshadows the suffocating presence of her unreliable, on-again, off-again boyfriend Sky (Tsz Ho Wong), a man not unlike her father. Believing she can find stability by working part-time at McDonald’s, Yuen is repeatedly let down by both her manipulative father and her controlling boyfriend—two men who take her money only to abandon her. Kuet, meanwhile, takes refuge in perfecting her Cantonese accent, craving peer recognition while living in constant fear of being exposed as an imposter. Both girls dream of running away and forging their own Hong Kong identities, determined to rewrite the “Hong Kong Dreaming” that their father had failed to show them.

In the final phase of the film, set in 2017, the sisters have drifted apart, yet they remain tethered to their father’s shattered dreams. Yuen (played by Sasha Chuk herself) has embraced self-exile, working as a tour guide who drifts from city to city, rejecting labels—be they tied to relationships or languages. She is free to go anywhere, yet she belongs nowhere. Kuet (Angela Yuen), once her sister’s shadow, has become the epitome of the successful newcomer, earning a university degree. However, she ultimately chooses to fight for land justice, recognising it as the true “Hong Kong Dreaming” that calls to her. Though the sisters’ paths diverge, they are reunited through their estranged father, now a frail and lonely man. Hoping for a fresh start, Min re-enters their lives—no longer the man who once dictated their fate, but a spectre of his past self. His wish to one day return to Hunan and see the flowers remains unfulfilled. His soul and dreams are buried in Hong Kong, as if he had never left a mark, his “Hong Kong Dreaming” reduced to a fleeting shadow.

The wake of “Hong Kong Dreaming” brings a painful realisation to Min’s family. For many immigrants, this dream—whatever form it takes—has lost its allure and its promise. It is like the neon lights that Yuen saw with her parents in a bullet lift in 1997—dazzling yet always just out of reach.

^{Chloe Hui plays young Yuen}

^{Grown-up Yuen, played by Sasha Chuk, with her on-screen father Min, played by Wu Kang-ren}

How to cite: Tam, Tin Yuet. “In the Wake of Hong Kong Dreaming: Sasha Chuk’s Fly Me to the Moon.” Cha: An Asian Literary Journal, 2 Mar. 2025, chajournal.blog/2025/03/02/to-the-moon.

Tin Yuet Tam is a Hongkonger who writes about arts and culture. She has written critiques on performing arts in Chinese, for example, her theatre critiques can be found in Hong Kong Repertory Theatre’s Repazine. She has also been writing poetry, reviews, interviews, and essays in English. Tin Yuet’s poetry has been featured in Canto Cutie and Voice & Verse Poetry Magazine. When she is not writing, you might find her strolling along the streets for hours just to immerse herself in cities. She currently resides in Toronto, Canada. Find her work on Instagram: @walk_talk_chalk [All contributions by Tin Yuet Tam.]