Title: Chow Yun-fat in Office (2015): A Daring Fusion of Corporate Satire and Musical Theatre
By [taojieli.com]
In the annals of Hong Kong cinema, few films dare to blend the ruthless mechanics of corporate warfare with the audacious spectacle of musical theatre. Directed by the visionary Johnnie To (杜琪峰) and starring Chow Yun-fat in a role that defies his heroic legacy, Office (2015)—originally titled Design for Living—is a cinematic experiment that polarizes audiences even as it redefines the boundaries of genre storytelling. This film is not merely a workplace drama; it’s a biting satire of capitalism, a love letter to theatricality, and a haunting meditation on human ambition.
- A Genre-Defying Masterpiece: Where Boardrooms Meet Broadway
At first glance, Office appears to be an outlier in Chow Yun-fat’s filmography. Known for his roles as charismatic gangsters (A Better Tomorrow) and martial arts legends (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon), Chow here transforms into the enigmatic corporate titan, Mr. Ho (何仲平), a man whose calm exterior masks a Machiavellian genius. The film’s theatrical roots—adapted from Sylvia Chang’s (张艾嘉) stage play Design for Living—are evident in its stylized dialogue, grandiose sets, and surreal musical numbers.
The plot revolves around a high-stakes IPO at the fictional conglomerate Jones & Sunn, where employees navigate betrayals, illicit affairs, and financial ruin. Chow’s Mr. Ho, the company’s chairman, orchestrates events like a puppet master, his motives obscured until the film’s devastating climax. Unlike his earlier roles, Chow’s performance here is understated, relying on subtle glances and calculated silences to convey authority and moral ambiguity.
- Theatricality as a Mirror to Corporate Absurdity
What sets Office apart is its unabashed embrace of artifice. The entire film unfolds within a sprawling, three-story office set designed by William Chang (张叔平), a labyrinth of glass walls and sterile cubicles symbolizing the transparency and entrapment of corporate life. This set—reportedly costing over $6 million USD—becomes a character in itself, its geometric precision contrasting with the chaotic human dramas unfolding within.
The musical sequences, composed by Lo Ta-yu (罗大佑), are not mere interludes but narrative devices. For instance, when CFO Sophie (Tang Wei, 汤唯) croons A Love Before Time in Mandarin, her melancholic ballad underscores her exploitation by colleagues. Similarly, Eason Chan’s (陈奕迅) frenetic rock number Swimming in the Dark mirrors his character’s descent into stock market addiction. These moments elevate the film from gritty realism to operatic tragedy, akin to Brechtian theatre.
- Chow Yun-fat: Subverting the “God of Gamblers” Persona
Chow’s portrayal of Mr. Ho is a masterclass in reinvention. Gone are the trench coats and poker-faced bravado; instead, he dons tailored suits and a demeanor of icy detachment. In one pivotal scene, Mr. Ho calmly dismantles a subordinate’s scheme while sipping tea, his quiet menace echoing Michael Corleone in The Godfather. This role challenges Chow’s legacy as an action star, proving his versatility in embodying cerebral, morally complex characters.
Notably, Chow’s chemistry with Sylvia Chang (who plays CEO Winnie) adds layers to their power struggle. Their interactions—a mix of professional respect and personal resentment—reflect the film’s central theme: the cost of sacrificing humanity for success.
- A Chorus of Broken Dreams: The Supporting Cast
While Chow anchors the film, the ensemble cast shines equally. Tang Wei’s Sophie is a standout—a vulnerable yet resilient figure trapped in a web of corporate espionage. Her subplot, involving a doomed romance with a junior employee, critiques the commodification of love in profit-driven environments.
Eason Chan’s portrayal of David, a morally bankrupt executive, is both hilarious and horrifying. His manic energy during the stock market crash sequence—a whirlwind of jazz hands and desperate pleas—exposes the absurdity of financial greed. Meanwhile, newcomer Wang Ziyi (王紫逸) embodies the wide-eyed idealism of youth, his character’s naivety crushed by the machinery of corporate politics.
- Behind the Scenes: Risks and Innovations
The production of Office was fraught with challenges. Director Johnnie To, renowned for crime thrillers like Election, initially hesitated to take on a musical. However, he saw potential in using song-and-dance to critique capitalism’s dehumanizing effects. The decision to shoot in 3D further heightened the film’s surrealism, with floating spreadsheets and rotating office blocks immersing viewers in a Kafkaesque nightmare.
Chow’s commitment to the role extended beyond acting. During filming, he reportedly spent hours observing real-life CEOs to perfect Mr. Ho’s restrained body language—a far cry from his usual dynamic physicality.
- Global Relevance: Why Office Resonates Beyond Hong Kong
Though Office underperformed at the box office (grossing just $7 million USD globally), its themes are universally urgent. The 2008 financial crisis backdrop mirrors today’s economic uncertainties, from cryptocurrency frenzies to corporate layoffs. Mr. Ho’s mantra—“Business is war”—feels eerily prescient in an age where tech giants wield unchecked power.
For Western audiences, the film offers a fresh lens on Asian cinema—one that merges arthouse ambition with mainstream appeal. Its influences range from Jacques Tati’s Playtime (1967) to Chicago (2002), yet its voice remains distinctly Hong Kong.
Conclusion: A Cinematic Trojan Horse
-Office* is not without flaws. Critics argue its 120-minute runtime feels overindulgent, and the fusion of genres may alienate viewers seeking conventional storytelling. Yet, these “flaws” are precisely what make the film unforgettable. It is a Trojan horse—a glittering musical that smuggles in searing critiques of greed, alienation, and the myth of meritocracy.
Chow Yun-fat’s Mr. Ho lingers long after the credits roll, a reminder that the true “god of gamblers” isn’t the one who wins at cards, but the one who manipulates the game itself. Office demands to be seen—not just as a film, but as a warning.
Final Rating: 4.5/5
Watch it for: Chow’s transformative performance, Lo Ta-yu’s haunting score, and a third-act twist that redefines corporate villainy.
Where to Stream: Available on Amazon Prime and Criterion Channel with English subtitles.