In 2021, South Korean playwright Lee Si-won and director Choi Won-jong, the married duo behind the theater company Masterpiece Cornfield, envisioned a story where South Korean fans of Leslie Cheung (1956–2003) unexpectedly cross paths with pro-democracy protesters in Hong Kong.
“When Choi asked, ‘Why Leslie Cheung?’ I told him, ‘Back then, I watched his concert videos endlessly. He felt like someone who needed to be cared for, protected, and embraced,’” Lee said.
Their play, Good Morning Hong Kong, premiered in 2022 and is now in its third season, running through April 6 at Seoul’s Jeongdong Theater.
“Unlike action stars like Chow Yun-fat or Andy Lau, who embodied strong, savior-like figures, Cheung often portrayed characters who held fast to their ideals, only to be shattered by the world—at once pure-hearted, lonely, and deeply vulnerable,” Choi said. “When he passed away on April Fool’s Day in 2003, I thought, ‘Maybe we loved Cheung because he was an anxious, fragile soul, much like us back then.’”
The play opens with South Korean fans of Cheung, known as Jang Samo (Leslie Cheung Lovers’ Club), traveling to Hong Kong for a “pilgrimage,” recreating scenes from A Better Tomorrow 2 in a tribute video. The over-the-top gunfights and dramatic final scene in a phone booth, where Cheung’s character dies in Chow Yun-fat’s arms, draw laughter from the audience.
A scene recreating the analog special effects of Cheung’s 1987 film A Chinese Ghost Story showcases the play’s inventive theatricality. But when Hong Kong protesters and Jang Samo members join voices to sing “The Moon Represents My Heart,” the moment turns poignant.
For many in the audience, the play is more than a tribute—it’s a portal back to the golden age of Hong Kong cinema. The nostalgia is reflected in ticket sales, with the proportion of attendees in their 40s and 50s surging to 35.4%, nearly triple the usual 12.5% for past productions.
Why does nostalgia for Cheung and Hong Kong cinema remain so strong?
Lim Dae-geun, a professor at Hankuk University of Foreign Studies and head of the Korean Cinema Association, explains: “Hong Kong noir blended Hollywood aesthetics with Chinese martial arts themes, creating an imaginative world where loyalty and brotherhood thrived—an escape for young South Koreans from their own rigid society.”
Unlike contemporaries such as Chow and Lau, who aged with their audience, Cheung’s early passing froze him in time as an eternal, youthful figure.
“South Korea has democratized and leads the global wave of K-content, while Hong Kong’s trajectory has reversed. This play mirrors those historical shifts, linking the democracy movement of past South Korea to today’s struggles in Hong Kong,” Lim said.
Timed with the 22nd anniversary of Cheung’s passing on April 1, three of his films will return to South Korean theaters.
Farewell My Concubine (1993), the actor’s highest-grossing film in South Korea with nearly 400,000 admissions, will be re-released exclusively at Lotte Cinema on March 26 in an extended version featuring previously cut scenes. The film won the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival that year.
Meanwhile, Megabox will screen two lesser-seen Cheung films on March 31.
Nomad (1982), a romance drama that marked his transition into a leading actor, follows a wealthy Hong Kong youth entangled in a love affair with a woman pursued by a Japanese assassin. The film earned him a nomination for Best Actor at the Hong Kong Film Awards.
Tristar (1996), a comedy directed by Tsui Hark, sees Cheung playing a young priest who becomes entangled in a chaotic chase after aiding a fugitive woman.
“These films offer a chance to rediscover facets of Leslie Cheung that audiences may not have encountered before,” a Megabox spokesperson said.
Decades after his passing, Cheung’s presence lingers—on stage, on screen, and in the hearts of those who still find meaning in his timeless, aching brilliance.
