Lyric Jumble
Writer-director Norris Wong’s grim and giddy sophomore effort is really, really Cantonese.
The Lyricist Wannabe
Director: Norris Wong • Writer: Norris Wong
Starring: Chung Suet-ying, Anson Chan, Tang Lai-ying, Sabrina Ng, Eric Kot, Luna Shaw, Ernest Poon
Taiwan / Hong Kong • 1hr 53mins
Opens Hong Kong March 7 • IIB
Grade: B
It’s clear from the title that Norris Wong Yee-lam’s follow-up to her excellent debut, My Prince Edward, is not going to be some kind of inspirational, against-all-odds underdog story of triumph. A wannabe is someone who fails to achieve their dream. In the semi-autobiographical The Lyricist Wannabe | 填詞L (based on Wong’s own 2013 novel) Law Wing-sze, played by emerging actor Chung Suet-ying (Time), herself a lyricist, has set her sights on writing Cantonese song lyrics for a living. The difference between this and scads of other films like it, there’s no miraculous third act coincidence that sees Wing-sze find the Cantopop success she desperately craves. No, she gets bogged down in industry nonsense and politicking, tangled up in marketing nightmares and ensnared in cultural and linguistic webs and ultimately realises no amount of talent or hard work is going to help her get where she wants to go. It’s a brutal bit of realism that’s all the more refreshing, and occasionally cringingly entertaining, for it.
Wong’s unsentimental and perhaps jaundiced eye offers a pitch-perfect skewering of not just arts industries, but of trying to create that art at a time when economics, geopolitics and identity are all making significant and sometimes unavoidable demands of artists – musicians, filmmakers, authors, painters or playwrights in equal measure. That said, The Lyricist Wannabe finds the gallows humour in the story too, and proves Wong’s first film was no fluke.
Make sure that math is strong
When we meet Wing-sze, she’s in high school, hanging out with her best pals (Sabrina Ng Ping and Tang Lai-ying) and looking ahead to a life as a professional, published writer. She hones her craft with help from a writing instructor, Lo Wing-hong (Chu Pak-hong, always welcome), and finds early industry supporters in fellow budding composer Chris Lee (Tony Wu Tsz-tung ) and rising pop star Wong Hiu-tung (Anson Chan Ngai-san, AKA King Maker finalist ANSONBEAN). Along the way she’s forced to hitch her wagon to KOL-turned-pop star Helencandy (Jeannie Ng Ka-yan), who’s getting recording time in a studio because… KOL, only to be told she’s not cut out for the business after she bungles contract negotiations. Her mom and dad (Luna Shaw/Siu Mei-gwan and Eric Kot Man-fai) don’t understand her calling, and as the years go by her friends seem to be moving on. When things get desperate Wing-sze is forced to take commercial work. Welcome to the world of creating shit.
As she did in My Prince Edward, Wong makes Wing-sze into a complete, recognisable and relatable young woman rather than a idealised notion of one. Stephy Tang’s Lei-fong was imperfect – indecisive at times, self-involved, icy – and here, Wing-sze has moments that make you want to throw your hands up and yell “WTF is the matter with you?” Her increasing desperation drives her to devalue her own worth, and in doing so compels others to devalue it. She can be blinded to the impact her ambition has on those around her, and egregiously self-pitying when her plans crash and burn. In other words: she’s human.
The Lyricist Wannabe is going to play really well to anyone with a knowledge and/or appreciation of Cantopop and the intricacies involved of matching words, tone and melody. But just knowing those intricacies exist is enough to connect to Wing-sze’s frustration at having her work taken from her when Hiu-tung tells her he’s going to sing her lyrics in Mandarin. It’s the right financial choice after all, and on top of it no one has to worry about matching tones. The work Wing-sze put into creating a lyrical flow? The shifting meaning of the words? The socio-political implications of that choice? All unimportant in the late-stage capitalist Music Industrial Complex. It’s the same kind of subtle query Wong posed in My Prince Edward about identity and place.
Yet despite the grim realities Wing-sze is faced with, there’s a light touch to the movie that prevents it from being either a slog or a screed. Intermittent animations and illustrations inject a playful quality to the proceedings (too playful, personally), and there’s some fun to be had in playing a game of spot the celeb. Hint: Directors Sunny Chan Wing-sun and Jessey Tsang Tsui-shan, and Aaron Chow Chi-kwan, Calvin Poon Yuen-Leung and Tang among others all have cameos or small parts. Heaps of credit should go to Chung, too, for keeping Wing-sze watchable and empathetic when she could easily have gone off the rails. Now, excuse me while I go listen to some Cantopop. No wonder MIRROR is tearing it up. — DEK