William | A playwright since the Umbrella Movement - "As long as the government has not officially implemented restrictions, I will not change the way I create."

Working in Performing Arts. Currently producing a play. Age 30+. Observer of the development of self-censorship in Hong Kong.

What is frightening is that this sort of self-censorship by the organisers is subconsciously done. They may think that they have given the crew a free space to think and create, and yet they will reexamine the production even without receiving any external pressure.
— William

Journalist: Totow

Photographer: KC


I’ve worked in the theatre industry for over 10 years, and I have been involved in film productions as well. I first took part in backstage production as a freelancer, and went to Arts school a few years later. I then changed to working as a playwright during the Umbrella Movement.

Giving up a stable income and a familiar profession was a major life decision for me. At that time, I felt like living across two startlingly different worlds. I worked as usual during the day; I watched the resistance on the streets during the night. The people and events occurring in these two worlds are totally parallel and disconnected. I felt very helpless, so I turned to using creativity to express myself. After changing jobs, I didn’t have to put myself in between the two parallel worlds, where one was experiencing Hong Kong’s political turmoil and injustices, and the other painting a staged and beautified version of Hong Kong. Mentally, I felt more at peace despite the fact that life has become more difficult.

A few years ago, the production of a play that I was involved in was under the HK government’s review due to its political nature. In fact, most people wouldn’t apply to use certain public facilities, but I believe I have the civil right to do so, hence I went ahead and actively tested out the censorship metrics anyway despite expecting a rejection. Indeed, my application was rejected in the end.

Self-censorship from organisations

Although there are no explicit rules on censorship in Hong Kong’s theatre industry, in recent months, public showings that centred around the topics of the Tiananmen Square Massacre and social resistance - usually for larger-scaled or sponsored productions - would receive ‘non-compulsory recommendations’ on their themes.

In contrast to films, theatre productions have a smaller audience, so they receive relatively less censorship and suppression. However, there have been companies who wish the production crew to be more attentive to details, such as to consider whether the colour of costumes would have any connotations to the current societal situation, without mentioning any repercussions if such suggestions were not followed in the production. Despite these suggestions might be good-natured, it is more than enough to cause self-censorship within the production crew.

I made a theatrical adaptation of a novel a while ago. The Board of Directors thought the theme was too sensitive in light of today’s situation in Hong Kong. Their feedback was clearly coming from political considerations. I agreed to amend the script, but I also insisted that the story should preserve the element of critical thinking. Personally, I believe that critical thinking is indispensable in any creative work, only that the current social atmosphere doesn’t seem to allow any debate on popular social issues. Strangely, the amended script was passed by the director board even though it has an even stronger political flavour than the original version.

In fact, as long as the company isn’t being labelled and judged from their plays’ advertisements, the board doesn’t care about the message the audience receives in the theatre. I talked with my friends on my work and what happened - everyone thought it was merely a novel. The Board of Directors must have been very anxious to inflate their imagination this much - it’s scary and tragic.

My friend who created a play for the community centres faced the same sort of explicit and implicit situational restrictions by the organiser. What is frightening is that this sort of self-censorship by the organisers is subconsciously done. They may think that they have given the crew a free space to think and create, and yet they will reexamine the production even without receiving any external pressure. This naturally creates an illusion that ‘everything is fine’ in Hong Kong. 

Perhaps these people do believe that Hong Kong has not changed - everything is normal as long as everyone is ‘a bit more careful’. These self-constructed metrics on oneself are not built within one day but are accumulated gradually. Some may believe that these changes are only ‘minor adjustments’ in life, but the build-up of these minor adjustments that spread over years are enough to induce greater compromises to more restrictive censorship further down the road. In the past few months, I have observed that this type of self-censorship has been developing at an accelerating pace. 

Self-censorship from creators

The film industry has faced political censorship in these recent years. It has caused many to scout for a way out and leave the Chinese market fearfully. During the decade following the handover*, the Mainland had splashed out on the Hong Kong film industry without implementing any restrictions on these creations. As time goes on, creators became used to this easily-earned money and gradually lost their previous investors and market. So when the Chinese investors started to narrow their creative space, they are left with no other sources of funding.

The film industry has a relatively ‘clearer’ censorship framework. The scary thing is that this framework is not implemented by the officials, but are ‘unwritten rules’ widely circulated within the industry. Every director and screenwriter knows how the plot usually develops - nothing out of the ordinary. Characters including officials, police officers, the first and the second male and female protagonists are all righteous characters; death scenes only happen to minor characters who are less important and those who indolent. People who wish to remain in Hong Kong’s film industry are looking for funds and market beyond mainland China in the hope of regaining their freedom in creativity.

Upholding one’s principles

I believe one of the many responsibilities of Arts is to respond to the society, including current social affairs. As long as the government has not officially implemented restrictions on topics and themes, publicly oppressed creations or clearly limited the freedom of speech, I will not change the way I create, and pretend that these censorship and oppressions don’t exist. The cost in play productions is lower than film productions. If we don’t persist, then no one will. As long as the show maintains its quality and conscience, given the current Hongkongers’ political awakening, we will be able to find our audience and support.

I have always thought that the stage is a relatively safe space, allowing creators, actors, and even the audience to ‘experience’ unfamiliar events and emotions. I do not advocate using the power of theatre play for political brainwashing; however, in this rapidly changing generation, if we have critically reflected upon our feelings and thoughts from rehearsing or watching certain plays, we at least wouldn’t be caught unprepared when we encounter similar situations.

One day, I saw a police officer patrolling the streets, so I immediately took out my phone to film it. The officer didn’t allow me to record it, but I ignored them. Now that I think about it, perhaps I wouldn’t be arrested if I had put my phone down then. Creating using a phone is nothing new - if we reached a stage where we had to give up our civil rights the moment police officers gave an order, Hong Kong would really be over.


*The handover occurred at midnight on 1 July, 1997 where the United Kingdom ended administration for the colony of Hong Kong and returned control of the territory to the People’s Republic of China.