“A Chinese Ghost Story” (1987): Looking Into the Dark, Choosing the Light

“Life’s journey, where beautiful dreams stretch as long. Along the path, wind and frost lash against the withering face. In this mortal world, in how many directions do dreams drift? Searching for the love amidst infatuated fantasies. The road ahead blurs as the one fades away with it.”

The opening verse of the eponymous theme song for A Chinese Ghost Story (1987), written by James Wong and sung by Leslie Cheung, reflects the heart of the film: a brief, unforgettable, and tragic love between the scholar Ning Caichen (Leslie Cheung) and the ghost Nie Xiaoqian (Joey Wong). As Ning searches for love, morality and justice, he is drawn into a chaotic world filled with danger, displacement and betrayal. Both the song and the film remain touchstones of Hong Kong popular culture.

This year marks what would have been the 70th birthday of beloved artist Leslie Cheung. To honour his lasting legacy, MCL Cinema – Hong Kong’s largest cinema chain – has curated a special retrospective programme titled “Leslie Cheung’s 70th,” running from April to September. The programme brings back some of his most memorable films, including A Better Tomorrow (1986), Once a Thief (1991), He’s a Woman, She’s a Man (1994), and The Phantom Lover (1995), among others. These films are not only key works in Leslie Cheung’s career, but also important moments in Hong Kong cinema.

Adapted from the short story Nie Xiaoqian in Pu Songling’s classical anthology Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio (Liaozhai Zhiyi), the text has long been a fertile source for screen adaptations. An earlier adaptation, The Enchanting Shadow (1960), is also an important inspiration for this film. Director Ching Siu-tung and producer Tsui Hark transformed this supernatural cautionary tale into a romantic wuxia fantasy. By combining kinetic wire-fu action sequences, monster/horror generic elements, a human-ghost romance, and philosophical reflections on life, they made a film that is entertaining and rich with subtext.

On the surface, the film tells a fantasy romance between a mortal and a spirit, but at its core, it is about righteousness and heroism surviving in a corrupt world. Set in a time when corrupt officials run wild, and people kill each other for rewards, humanity often feels more dangerous than the spirit world itself. It is not always true that ghosts are evil and humans are good.

Ning Caichen is a timid scholar living in a harsh world where people betray each other just to get ahead. But he refuses to change who he is. His kindness, honesty, and empathy make him feel like an outsider in this chaotic place. When he learns Xiaoqian is a ghost, he does not hate her; he feels sorry for her and even risks his life to help her escape from evil forces.

Yan Chixia (Wu Ma), a former government official who left the imperial court to live in isolation, is tired of human cruelty. His frustrated words: “Why is this world so absurd? Should I laugh or cry?”, show how lost a moral person can feel in a broken society. At first, he wants to shut himself away from everything, but Ning’s stubborn kindness slowly breaks through his cynicism. In the end, Yan Chixia, Nie Xiaoqian, and Ning Caichen stand together, connected by their struggle against corruption in the human and spirit worlds, finding strength in each other instead of giving in to hopelessness.

As the story comes to an end, Sally Yeh’s Dawn, Please Don’t Come plays softly, carrying hope and sadness at the same time. There is hope in Xiaoqian finally being set free from her demonic chains and allowed to enter the cycle of reincarnation. But the coming dawn also brings a painful goodbye – the permanent separation between Xiaoqian and Ning Caichen. The ending leaves a feeling of loss and longing, turning a supernatural love story into something about wanting what can never last.

Joey Wong’s image in a flowing white dress, with her long hair drifting like mist, has become one of the most unforgettable visuals in Hong Kong cinema. Alongside Leslie Cheung’s gentle, slightly awkward sincerity, they created a kind of “soft heroism” that was very different from the usual tough, masculine sword-wielding heroes of wuxia films. The film’s success at the box office also led to sequels, turning what began as a bold genre experiment into a lasting part of Hong Kong popular culture.

Over time, it helped bring to life the faces and feelings of an entire cinematic era, with Joey Wong’s sadness and Leslie Cheung’s warmth becoming symbols of that golden age.

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Written by Jade Wong

_{View of the Arts is an online publication dedicated to film, music, and the arts, with a strong focus on the Asian entertainment industry. As we continue to grow, we aim to deepen our coverage of Asian music while remaining committed to exploring and celebrating creativity across the global arts landscape.}