The many controversies surrounding ‘To My Nineteen-Year-Old Self,’ winner of best picture at the Hong Kong Oscars

By the time the Hong Kong Film Awards rolls around, pretty much anyone who follows the industry can guess who the frontrunners are and who is most likely to take home the trophies. But this year, the awards — often dubbed Hong Kong’s Oscars — threw fans for a loop by giving the top honor to a controversial choice.

At the ceremony that took place last Sunday at the Hong Kong Cultural Center, To My Nineteen-Year-Old Self (给十九岁的我 gěi shíjiǔ suì de wǒ) won Best Film, becoming the first documentary to do so in the Hong Kong Film Awards’s 41-year history.

Its victory was a shock for a variety of reasons. Two months prior to the event, the documentary’s principal investor and copyright holder asked for the film to be withdrawn from the competition, but the request was ignored. And in the weeks leading up to the ceremony, the documentary had been embroiled in controversy, including a claim that the filmmakers had failed to get the proper consent from their subjects.

In the wake of the documentary’s win, we’ve decided to take a closer look at this movie.

What’s the backstory behind To My Nineteen-Year-Old Self?

Directed by celebrated Hong Kong filmmaker Mabel Cheung Yuen-ting (張婉婷 Zhāng Wǎntíng), To My Nineteen-Year-Old Self is the 72-year-old director’s first documentary after dozens of features, including the 1987 award-winning An Autumn’s Tale and the critically-acclaimed 1997 historical drama The Soong Sisters.

It’s a coming-of-age tale that follows a small group of students from Ying Wa Girls’ School, an elite secondary school in Hong Kong that happens to be Cheung’s alma mater. The idea of the film initially came to Cheung in 2011 when she was tapped by the school to helm a visual project as part of fundraising efforts to renovate its centuries-old campus.

When the filming started, dozens of students were featured. But as it progressed, Cheung and her team zeroed in on six of them. Over the course of 10 years, they chronicled the personal journeys of the subjects through the phases of adolescence against the backdrop of Hong Kong’s rapidly changing society. Last year, the film made its public debut at the Hong Kong International Film Festival, followed by screenings at Taiwan’s Golden Horse Film Festival and other film events around the world.

In January, the documentary was awarded best movie of 2022 by the Hong Kong Film Critics Society, which praised it for “collaging the social landscape of Hong Kong teenage girls in the 21st century.”

“The film covers a wide range of subjects and its organizing process is arduous,” it wrote. “Its editing should particularly be credited.”

The controversies begin

As the documentary made stops on the international film festival circuit, earning comparisons to the Oscar-nominated 2014 American film Boyhood, much of the drama behind the scenes was kept in private. But in February, a bombshell article published by Hong Kong’s Ming Pao Weekly and written by Ah Ling (阿聆 Ā Líng), one of the main characters in the film, completely changed the public perception of Cheung’s work.

According to Ah Ling, when she was first approached for the film, Cheung promised her that the final product would only be for internal screenings at school and shown to people related to the fundraising campaign. With the understanding that the documentary would never be released to the public, Ah Ling’ parents gave Cheung the consent for filming on her behalf as she was unable to as a minor.

As the filming wrapped up and the editing process got underway, Cheung began discussing the possibility of applying for a theatrical release. Ah Ling voiced mild opposition at first, but her disapproval only grew after she saw a preliminary version of the documentary in December 2021, which, she said, caused her emotional distress and anxiety. In the aftermath of the showing, Ah Ling’s mental health took a huge dive and she had to seek medical attention. A diagnosis provided by a psychiatrist concluded that because of her condition, “the movie is not suitable for public screening.”

But her plea was ignored. According to Ah Ling, after the documentary was finalized, Cheung submitted it to local film regulators for distribution approval without showing her the final cut. “I was very concerned about the feedback if the film became available to the public. For that reason, I told Cheung multiple times that I would like to participate in the editing process and be informed about how my story would be framed,” Ah Ling wrote. “But Cheung said to me that it would be impossible to make a documentary if everyone involved wanted to have a say in the editing.”

Ah Ling accused her school of complicity in Cheung’s unethical practices. Ah Ling wrote that the school first tried to lobby her to reconsider her stance on public screenings, then warned her that she might bear legal responsibility if she refused to let the film go public. According to Ah Ling, when she refused to sign a new agreement of consent with revised articles about public screenings in 2022, the school told her that her participation in filming after becoming an adult could be interpreted as a form of “silent consent” from the legal perspective.

“I was terrified of how school officials responded to my dissatisfaction. I respected them a lot when I was at school, but they turned into completely different people when they negotiated with me,” she wrote. “I was angry at first and then I became scared. Now I’m in despair.”

Despite her objection, the documentary officially opened in local cinemas on February 2.

Who else has spoken out against the film?

The Hong Kong public was quick to side with Ah Ling. Meanwhile, other people featured in the documentary also spoke out.

In an interview with Ming Pao Weekly, Ah Sheh (阿佘 Ā Shé), one of the six main characters who took part in the film’s promotion activities, confessed that like Ah Ling, she was opposed to the film being shown to the public in the beginning. But she didn’t stand her ground after realizing that her resistance would be futile. She added that she was particularly unhappy with how Cheung narrated the film while passing judgment on the main characters, and how Cheung put an “unnecessary emphasis” on some of her behavior in particular, such as her teenage smoking and temper tantrums.

Katie, nicknamed “Miss Hong Kong” in the film because of her outgoing personality and dream of becoming an entertainer, also revealed that when the production team approached her last year seeking a renewed consent for public screening, she was told that the other five protagonists had already signed the new agreement. Feeling peer-pressured, she ended up consenting to the request. Later, she found out that she had been lied to.

In a Facebook post, professional track cyclist Lee Wai-sze (李慧詩 Lǐ Huìshī) urged the public to boycott the documentary, claiming that Cheung interviewed her at a tournament in Japan — where one of the documentary’s main subjects was at — without revealing her affiliation and used a clip of their conversation in the documentary without her consent. “At the time, I felt that her questions were really bizarre and unrelated to the game,” Lee wrote. “She wasn’t a familiar face so I didn’t think much of it and thought she was just inexperienced.”

Alerted of the situation, the Hong Kong Sports Journalists Association released a statement condemning Cheung for lying about her media credentials. “The incident might have tarnished the reputation of Hong Kong news outlets and increased barriers for Hong Kong sports reporters to apply for press passes for games held abroad.”

Cheung and the school respond to the criticism

In response, Cheung announced that the documentary would be pulled from local cinemas on February 6, less than four days after it became widely available in Hong Kong. At a press conference, Cheung said she was taken aback by Ah Ling’s letter, as the student was cooperative during the majority of the filming and didn’t seem to have a problem with the documentary being widely distributed when the idea emerged. Ah Ling’s change of mind, according to Cheung, was “surprising.”

“If she really still thinks this way, then everyone should sit down and discuss our discrepancies,” Cheung said. “I wasn’t trying to tell a good story of Hong Kong. I only wanted to do something for the film sector.”

Just as everyone thought the saga was over, the Hong Kong Film Awards Association brought the film back in the spotlight a few days later. Despite intense opposition, To My Nineteen-Year-Old Self was nominated in three categories, including Best Film and Best Director.

A slew of influential figures in Hong Kong cinema, including veteran actor Anthony Wong Chau-sang (黄秋生 Huáng Qiūshēng), voiced support for Cheung on social media. Director-writer Alfred Cheung Kin-ting (張堅庭 Zhāng Jiāntíng), a longtime friend of Cheung’s, wrote on Facebook that although he disagreed with some of Cheung’s practices, especially when it comes to consent, Cheung was undeserving of the “malicious attacks” online. “It takes a special person to spend 10 years to work on a documentary for her alma mater,” he wrote. “When a director of feature films handles a documentary, it’s natural for them to gravitate towards ‘juicy’ material and prioritize the entertaining aspect of the film over their subjects’ feelings.”

Citing unwanted “social attention,” Ying Wa Girls’ School announced in February that it wished to withdraw the documentary from the Best Film category “after careful consideration.” It also vowed to “continue to communicate with the production team and alumni who participated in the documentary and conduct an in-depth review on the incident.”

But the documentary was not withdrawn. On the evening of April 16, a team representing the documentary — including co-director William Kwok Wai-Lun (郭偉倫 Guō Wěilún) and two protagonists — showed up to the 41st Hong Kong Film Awards in the absence of Cheung. In quiet acknowledgement of the backlash, the awards show chose not to show footage from the documentary in the introduction of nominees for Best Film.

And then To My Nineteen-Year-Old Self won.

“I want to say to all directors filming documentaries in Hong Kong, please keep putting effort into making documentaries and don’t be afraid, because documentaries are needed,” Kwok said during his acceptance speech. “Use the lens to record what is happening, remember to keep rolling, keep going, don’t be afraid. Film it first, edit it first, and screen it first!”

On the award show’s YouTube playlist recapping the night, the Best Film award is nowhere to be seen.