‘Time Still Turns the Pages’, the directorial debut from Director Nick Cheuk is a poignant, heart-wrenching film that reveals the events leading up to the tragedy of a 10 year old committing suicide. Through phenomenal acting by an outstanding cast, this incredibly important film deals with its undeniably difficult issue with great insight, sensitivity and understanding.
Whilst the majority of the film is set in a typical Hong Kong secondary school, the opening scene for ‘Time Still Turns the Pages’ features a child sitting alone on a rooftop with the city as a backdrop. The director also brings us to a classroom, and there he shares with the audience the silent, hidden thoughts of teenage students, thus setting the tone for the film to follow. Together, these scenes serve to place the youth (and the duty/obligation to nourish and protect them) firmly in the spotlight.
We are then introduced to the film’s protagonist, Mr Cheng (Lo Chun-yip), a divorced secondary school teacher, grappling with a newfound sense of isolation and questioning whether his personal failures will render him unable to be a good teacher. The discovery of an unidentifiable discarded suicide note triggers painful memories from his past but equally prompts in him a sense of duty to urgently identify the student and prevent a tragedy from taking place. It is not long before he finds himself facing frustrations as to how the matter is being approached and dealt with by colleagues. As Cheng’s search for the note’s writer among his students progresses, he revisits his personal family trauma preserved among the pages of a diary stored among Cheng’s possessions. The diary once belonged to Eli (Sean Wong Tsz-lok), the same ten year old we see at the film’s start and its pages are filled with heartbreaking recollections of growing up with abusive parents who relentlessly demanded perfection. We silently observe Cheng’s devastation, and how his early experiences continue to impact his life and the decisions he makes.
Flashbacks allow the abuse Eli faced to play out on screen, and the audience quickly comes to understand that there was no safe space for the poor child within his family home. In his parents’ eyes, Eli pails in comparison to his younger brother (Alan). By comparison, Alan is praised for being a good student and a gifted pianist with a bright future ahead. As such, he monopolises their parents’ attention, leaving Eli largely neglected or being subjected to frequent beatings and/or emotionally abusive language. We watch helplessly as Eli struggles with his studies, doing his best despite being told he is “stupid” and “good for nothing”, and how he seeks refuge in the imaginative world of comics which promises that he can grow up to be the adult he wishes to be. The result is a tragedy with after-effects that last a lifetime.
This film goes beyond a simple criticism of “Hong Kong’s exam-oriented culture and extreme meritocracy” and instead focuses on the harm the system causes. The director creates space for the otherwise often-unheard wishes, and utter despair felt by young students who have taken their lives. Through Lo’s remarkable performance of Mr Cheng, neither does the film neglect the wounds of those left behind. To its credit, the film also does an excellent job of reminding the viewer that there are things that can never be undone, that words can never be unspoken, or actions taken back. It is also a film which seeks to honour and encourage empathy and compassion.
The viewer is reminded that though the film features themes of depression and suicide, ‘Time Still Turns the Pages’ has been highly acclaimed as well as being a commercial success. The film’s success can be attributed to honest portrayal of the unsettling reality faced by those who have lived through the Hong Kong educational system, which in the Director’s own words are “serious issues” and that many people “are likely to have experienced some version of the film’s events, or known someone who did.”
‘Time Still Turns the Pages’ is an empathetic film which approaches the issue of trauma, abuse and mental health in a sensitive manner, and one which (despite the subject matter) ends on a positive note. It delivers the viewer a helpful reminder to those suffering: You are not alone, and help is available. Cheuk has created a film that will stay with you forever, one powerful enough to prompt discussions and hopefully, lasting change. Finally, it also serves as a reminder that kindness, even a hug, can save a life.
Rating: ★★★★★
“Growing up in the traditional Hong Kong education system is a trial by fire for many, but it’s attributed to more than the ridiculous Western stereotype of Asian ‘tiger parents.’
A large population living in a densely populated city means obtaining anything in Hong Kong is a competition, including a spot in any reputable school. The system pits children against each other throughout their academic careers, placing them in rankings that are supposed to represent their academic aptitude. This forces parents to constantly compare their children with others. For example, the biggest academic embarrassment of my life came when I was eight years old, when I dropped from third place in my class to 16th the following semester .
For generations, Hong Kong children have complained of having to carry overweight backpacks filled with books and having too many assignments. Society’s general stigma towards mental illness also means students lack outlets to vent their frustrations. It’s not uncommon for parents who can afford it to send their kids overseas to avoid the pressure- cooker environment – and the overseas education pedigree can be used later to beat the competition, of course.”
– Director Nick Cheuk