Song of the Exile 1990

Cheung Hueyin, Maggie Cheung, is abroad in London in 1973, studying media and chasing a dream of a career in television. After her graduation, she discovers that, unlike her white roommates, she has been denied a BBC interview, a setback that pushes her to confront what she wants from work and from life. A letter from her mother pulls her back to Hong Kong for her younger sister’s wedding, setting the stage for a deeper look at family, heritage, and the choices that shape a woman’s path. The tensions between Hueyin and her mother, Aiko, Lu Hsiao-Fen, who is Japanese, run through the film like a quiet undercurrent. Their strained relationship is revealed in a series of flashbacks that trace the emotional terrain of their bond and the cultural distance that has long separated them.

The narrative delves into Hueyin’s family history, discovering how her paternal grandparents helped raise her but often overstepped boundaries that created lasting dysfunction. In these memories, Hueyin sees the influences that shaped her sense of self and her complicated loyalties to both sides of her heritage. Aiko’s own past before becoming Mrs. Cheung and Hueyin’s mother is explored in turn, including her time in Manchukuo. There, she and other Japanese faced grave uncertainties after Japan’s defeat, intensified by illness within her family. A pivotal moment comes when Mr. Cheung, Waise Lee Chi-Hung, an army translator from Guangdong with a background in traditional Chinese medicine, helps cure Aiko’s infant nephew after a desperate roadside plea. This act of kindness plants a connection and a sense of possibility, and later, when he accompanies Aiko’s family to the repatriation site, he reveals a longing for a romantic relationship that complicates the family dynamic even further.

Back in 1973, Hueyin reluctantly agrees to accompany Aiko on a visit to Beppu, Japan, to explore her birthplace and origins. At first she feels utterly out of place—unable to speak the language and unsure of the customs—but the journey becomes a catalyst for self-discovery. She forms a bond with an uncle, gradually learning to embrace a Japanese side of her identity and, in time, reaching a new understanding with her mother. This cultural reconciliation helps Hueyin set her sights on a different future, one that aligns with the tenacity she already showed in pursuing a career in Hong Kong’s television landscape. The family’s path widens again when Aiko later encourages Hueyin to visit her paternal grandparents in Guangdong, where Hueyin encounters the reality of a very young relative with a mental disability, a detail that deepens her empathy and sense of duty.

As the film moves toward its end, Hueyin’s inner journey comes into sharp relief against the external world she covers as a journalist. She prays before a dimly lit, incense-choked ancestral altar, a stark contrast to the open-air shrine she visited in Japan and to the large, outdoor rallies she now reports on. The final images crystallize a transformation: the rejection in London no longer defines her, and the complicated family history she has faced—its joys, tensions, and unresolved questions—coheres into a renewed sense of purpose and belonging. The story closes with a nuanced portrait of a woman who navigates a hybrid heritage, a complex family tapestry, and a professional world that demands clarity, courage, and a voice of her own.