“The Lunatics”: Tony Leung’s Haunting Debut and Hong Kong’s Forgotten Social Conscience
-By [taojieli.com]
Before his iconic collaborations with Wong Kar-wai, a 24-year-old Tony Leung delivered a career-defining performance in The Lunatics (1986) – a film that dared to expose Hong Kong’s systemic neglect of mental health patients while foreshadowing the city’s identity crisis. Directed by Derek Yee (尔冬升) in his groundbreaking debut, this unflinching social drama remains shockingly relevant in today’s global mental health discourse.
- Beyond the “Madman” Trope: A Radical Humanist Lens
Unlike Hollywood’s sensationalized portrayals of mental illness in films like One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, The Lunatics rejects easy categorization. Leung’s character Doggie (狗仔) isn’t a plot device but a tragic prism reflecting societal fractures. His childlike fascination with toy planes contrasts violently with sudden outbursts of knife-wielding panic – a duality capturing the film’s central thesis: madness isn’t inherent but socially constructed .
Director Derek Yee spent months shadowing social workers and psychiatric survivors during pre-production, resulting in documentary-like authenticity. The opening market scene where Doggie gets trapped in a mob frenzy mirrors actual 1985 protests against mentally ill residents in Hong Kong’s public housing – events that inspired the film’s controversial reception .
- The Double Tragedy of Caregivers
Feng Tsui-Fan’s social worker Mr. Tsui embodies the film’s moral paradox. His 20-year dedication to rehabilitating patients like Chow Yun-fat’s Ah Sung (阿松) – who struggles to parent despite his condition – reveals a system stretched beyond capacity. In one heartbreaking scene, Tsui discovers Ah Sung’s children living in squalor, their mother having abandoned them. This isn’t fiction but a direct critique of Hong Kong’s underfunded 1980s welfare system that left 72% of discharged psychiatric patients without follow-up care .
The film’s most radical moment comes when Tsui’s colleague Ming (Chan Kwok-San) confesses: “You can’t save them all.” This admission of systemic failure – delivered while Ming obsessively checks stock prices – critiques capitalist priorities in a city transitioning from British rule. The camera lingers on Tsui’s trembling hands as he files resignation papers, symbolizing the collapse of humanist ideals .
- Tony Leung’s Silent Scream
Leung’s Doggie represents a career milestone often overshadowed by his later arthouse fame. With minimal dialogue, he communicates through physical poetry – fingers compulsively tapping Morse code on tables, eyes darting like cornered animals. His climactic suicide attempt scene, where he whimpers “Mama told me to die” while clutching a social worker’s doll, redefines cinematic vulnerability .
This performance laid foundations for Leung’s future collaborations. Doggie’s repressed trauma echoes Chow Mo-wan’s emotional paralysis in In the Mood for Love, while his knife-wielding paranoia prefigures the psychological depth of Infernal Affairs’ undercover cop. The film’s closing shot of Leung’s lifeless hand still gripping the doll remains one of Hong Kong cinema’s most devastating images .
- Taboo-Breaking as Political Protest
Banned initially for its “inflammatory content,” The Lunatics forced Hong Kong to confront its treatment of marginalized groups. Yee’s script directly references two real-life tragedies:
- The 1982 Yuen Long kindergarten massacre by a relapsed patient
- The 1985 suicide of a psychiatric survivor after neighborhood harassment
The film’s most controversial sequence shows Qin Hailu’s Ah Quan (阿全) – a recovering patient – being provoked into violence by tabloid-driven mobs. When his elderly mother (Deanie Ip) screams “My son isn’t crazy!”, the line becomes a meta-commentary on the media’s demonization of mental illness. This scene’s raw power stems from Yee’s refusal to villainize anyone – not even the journalists – instead framing the tragedy as collective societal failure .
- Legacy: From Censored Film to Social Catalyst
Despite initial backlash, The Lunatics achieved what few films dare attempt – tangible policy change. Its release spurred Hong Kong’s first government-funded halfway houses for psychiatric patients in 1987. The film also pioneered a new wave of socially conscious cinema, influencing later works like Ann Hui’s Ordinary Heroes .
For modern viewers, the film offers unexpected resonances:
- Doggie’s isolation mirrors Gen Z’s pandemic-induced mental health crises
- Ah Quan’s relapse under public scrutiny predicts social media’s “cancel culture” dynamics
- Tsui’s burnout parallels today’s global healthcare worker shortages
Watching Guide for Global Audiences
- Cultural Context Matters: Research Hong Kong’s 1984 Sino-British Joint Declaration – the political anxiety permeates scenes of characters debating emigration.
- Lost in Translation: The Cantonese title 癲佬 literally means “crazy guys,” but carries classist connotations absent in English.
- Double Feature: Pair with Joker (2019) to compare East/West approaches to mental health narratives.
Final Verdict: 5/5 Shattered Stigmas
More than a film, The Lunatics is a moral X-ray of 1980s Hong Kong. Derek Yee’s fearless direction and Tony Leung’s career-best performance create a work that’s simultaneously devastating and hopeful – a reminder that societal progress often begins with uncomfortable art. As Western nations grapple with rising mental health crises, this forgotten classic offers urgent lessons in empathy.
Available on: Asian cinema specialty platforms (Criterion Channel’s Hong Kong Noir collection). Content warning: Contains realistic depictions of suicide and societal violence.