On Valentine’s Day, a bus explodes in the middle of Hong Kong. The bomb is planted by a gay couple who kill themselves along with most of the passengers, leaving behind charred bodies and severed limbs. This shocking scene opens We’re Nothing at All, a brutal yet compassionate film that gives voice to some of society’s most marginalised people. 

Directed by Herman Yau, We’re Nothing At All is a Hong Kong film that premiered in the UK on 23 May ahead of its UK release on 29 May. Inspired by a real incident in Wuhan in 1998, follows Ike (Anson Bean) and Fai (Anson Kong), two men in a relationship who carry out a suicide bombing on a bus. While it is centred on a gay couple, it is neither a boy-love romance like Happy Together (1997) nor a film focused solely on difficulties faced by the queer community. By revealing the tragic ending at the very beginning, the narrative instead concentrates on the social conditions and accumulated anger that drive the couple toward violence, exposing the desperation hidden beneath Hong Kong’s affluent façade. 

The film does not present homophobia as a problem that exists on its own, but shows how it is closely tied to other social issues such as poverty, domestic violence and economic insecurity, with each of these pressures gradually influencing their lives. Fai’s traumatic childhood experiences affect the way he understands love and intimacy, while the harsh treatment and exploitation he faces as a construction worker increase his feelings of isolation and anger toward the world around him. At the same time, the film places these personal struggles within the wider atmosphere of economic decline and social stagnation in Hong Kong, suggesting that the couple’s violent actions are not caused by one single issue, but by years of accumulated pain, neglect and overlapping forms of injustice that leave them feeling trapped with no clear way out.

The emphasis on intersectionality gives the film a strong thematic depth. Some viewers may argue that concentrating so many forms of suffering within two characters feels excessive, yet the approach effectively explains how one social problem would eventually lead to another. More importantly, these ideas never overwhelm the storytelling. The heavy subject matter is told through a tightly paced narrative, moments of dark humour as well as bursts of emotional intensity like the fight between Ike and Fai. Thus, the film remains compelling as a social critique and a cinematic experience, appealing to local and international audiences, and to anyone in places where injustice persists.

Furthermore, the story is told by interweaving the police investigation and the couple’s past life. As the detectives uncover new evidence, fragments of Ike and Fai’s lives slowly come together like pieces of a puzzle. This structure not only creates a sense of mystery seen in crime thrillers, but also places the audience in a position of helpless omniscience: the ending is already known, and nothing can prevent the disaster from taking place. Viewers are forced to confront their own role as bystanders to injustice, as the line Ike and Fai write – “No snowflake in an avalanche ever feels responsible” – suggests how a tragedy about two individuals is a broader indictment of common indifference.

The cast delivers performances of exceptional quality, characterised by subtle and believable acting.

We’re Nothing at All is a crucial moment in Yau’s four-decade-long career in the Hong Kong film industry. He is internationally known for cult classics such as The Untold Story (1993) and Ebola Syndrome (1996), both about a murderer who sells meat buns made from corpses. While most viewers focus on the extreme plot and violent scenes, these films are fundamentally about how marginalised people are pushed towards insanity. He later turned to successful action films like the Shock Wave series in the 2010s, but this latest work shows that his social concerns remain intact. Combining political anger with audience-appealing storytelling, the film continues his long-standing exploration of violence, despair and systemic neglect. It’s an independent production, self-funded by Yau for approximately HK$8 million, also carries particular significance at a time when political censorship in Hong Kong is tightening.

The Chinese title of We’re Nothing at All can also be understood as meaning “we are not anything” or “who are we not?”. The film strongly criticises a society where vulnerable people are ignored and left unheard, and it asks the audience not to stay passive when faced with inequality. At once angry and emotional, it works both as a form of protest and as a sad reflection on a Hong Kong dealing with political and economic decline.

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Written by Angel Sun

Featured image courtesy of Trinity CineAsia

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