以和為貴，是慈悲而非認慫

如果說許多戰爭題材作品習慣從槍炮、旗幟和意識形態切入，那麼《歡迎來龍餐館》選擇了一個更樸素、也更接近中國百姓生命經驗的視角：好好吃飯。餐館不只是謀生之地，更是普通人彼此照應、交換善意、維持尊嚴的場所。這個視角看似微小，卻正好照見世界的紛亂——因為在激進價值觀所點燃的戰火與復仇中，最先被捲入、也最常被犧牲的，往往就是那些只想好好過日子的普通人。

影片最動人的地方，在於它把中國千百年來百姓的普世價值放了進來：善待同胞，憐憫弱者，追求和諧共榮。這不是什麼宏大口號，而是餐桌上的熱氣、鄰里間的問候、異鄉人之間的一點扶持。也正因如此，當和平被打破，當普通人被戰爭機器碾過，那種可悲與荒涼才格外刺痛。影片讓人看到，和平從來不是理所當然的；一旦失去，想重新拼回和平，遠比摧毀它困難得多。任何時候都不可輕言開戰，因為那是以成千上萬條生命為代價的豪賭。

「以和為貴」不是認慫，而是慈悲。這部影片沒有把和平理解為軟弱，也沒有把忍讓簡單等同於退縮。它真正想說的是：在一個每個人都有不同價值觀、不同動機、不同取捨、不同掙扎和欲望的世界裡，和平是所有人必須共同守住的最後底線。越過這條底線，沒有人能真正倖免；今天旁觀他人成為犧牲品，明天自己也可能成為下一個。

影片出色之處，正在於它的場景與情節既真實又合情合理。它不是用扁平的好人與壞人來推動故事，而是讓每個人物都帶著自己的理由、慾望和矛盾進場。有人想生存，有人想復仇，有人想守護，有人想利用混亂。但無論動機如何，一旦放棄和平底線，所有人都可能被拖入深淵。這種敘事讓影片不只是講一個餐館的故事，而是講一個世界如何一步步走向撕裂，以及普通人如何在撕裂中艱難求生。

更值得玩味的是，兩個華人在異國他鄉的境遇，與中國在世界上的境遇高度吻合。他們努力為他人提供優秀服務，卻不斷被誤解、被懷疑，甚至被貼上「恐怖分子幫兇」的標籤，受到諸多不公平對待。然而，中國本身也是恐怖主義的受害者之一。這種錯位與委屈，正是影片現實隱喻的鋒利之處：善意不一定立刻被理解，服務他人也不等於放棄底線。兩個華人最終死於恐怖分子之手，更是清楚地說明，對恐怖主義不要心存幻想。中國人有自己的道德底線，但底線不是對暴力的天真讓步，更不是對惡的縱容。

《歡迎來龍餐館》最終留給觀眾的，不是激昂的口號，而是一種沉痛的提醒：好好吃飯，善待同胞與弱者，追求和諧共榮，這些看似平凡的願望，其實正是和平最堅實的根基。以和為貴，不是怕事，而是知道生命有多重；不是認慫，而是慈悲。願這部影片讓更多人明白，和平必須被珍惜，底線必須被守住，否則所有人都可能成為下一個犧牲品。

小浪

Good Trip : A Tender, Funny Road Trip Through Grief

Good Trip begins with a dying man’s daydream and never quite lets go of its bittersweet playfulness. A cancer patient with weeks to live cajoles his overworked daughter into an impromptu journey from a Hong Kong hospital to Macau and Okinawa, revisiting old wounds and half-finished business. It could curdle into sentimentality, but its real achievement is tone: light enough to laugh at a father’s stubbornness, heavy enough to catch you off guard when grief surfaces. Anyone who has sat beside a dying parent will recognise the strange guilt of wanting to keep them close and the quiet relief of simply being in the same car, talking nonsense.

That balance rests on Nick Cheung and Chung Suet-ying, whose chemistry is off the chart. Cheung’s ageing film extra is all bluster, physical comedy and mischief, yet his eyes soften whenever his daughter looks away; paternal pride is clumsy and unspoken. Chung’s art assistant is tired exasperation and unspoken devotion, her guarded face cracking in tiny, devastating increments as she realises she is becoming the parent. Their bickering has perfect timing; their silences are better. Their performance earned my votes as the contenders for next year’s Hong Kong Film Awards. Chung, already a Golden Horse best actress winner for The Way We Talk (《看我今天怎麼說》) and nominated at the Hong Kong Film Awards for Time (《殺出個黃昏》) and The Lyricist Wannabe (《填詞L》), is also excellent in We Are Born Good (《善男信女》).

Yusuke Hatano’s excellent soundtrack is a character in its own right: plucked strings and soft piano drift through hospital corridors, swell mischievously during the Macau detour, then recede into near-silence for Okinawa. The Japanese composer, winner of a Hong Kong Film Award for Soul Mate and honours at the Golden Screen Awards and Hamilton Behind the Scenes Awards, knows when to let silence work.

I was visibly moved during the film, and so were many in the audience. Alongside We Are Born Good, Good Trip ranks as one of the year’s two finest Hong Kong films. Don’t miss it.

Elven Ho

From Disaster to Delirium: Street Fighter Finally Speaks Its Own Language

Verdict up front: the 2026 Street Fighter pulls off a reversal of 1994’s misfire — not through sturdier storytelling, but by finally embracing the glorious absurdity of its source material.

Judged on fidelity, the 1994 film was a catastrophe. Jean-Claude Van Damme’s Colonel Guile hijacked the plot, Ryu and Ken were reduced to bickering conmen, and Raúl Juliá’s M. Bison — for all that “for me, it was Tuesday” magnificence — remained trapped behind rubber prosthetics and plywood sets. It scraped 18% on Rotten Tomatoes yet still hauled in nearly $100 million worldwide, proving that fans craved merely to see the characters, quality be damned.

The new outing takes the opposite road. Director Sakurai Kitao sets proceedings in 1993, with Ryu (Andrew Koji) and Ken (Noah Centineo) as washed-up champions dragged back into the World Warrior tournament by the enigmatic Chun-Li (Callina Liang). The visual strategy is deliberate and unapologetic: Cody Rhodes’s flat-topped Guile, 50 Cent’s Balrog, Orville Peck’s masked Vega, Roman Reigns’s Akuma, Vidyut Jammwal’s stretch-limbed Dhalsim, Hirooki Goto’s E. Honda, Olivier Richters’s hulking Zangief, and Mel Jarnson’s Cammy . Every choice declares that this film refuses the timid “realism” of so many game adaptations, opting instead for arcade-era garishness.

And Blanka is a delightful presence. Momoa throws every ounce of actorly vanity out of the window — he bellows as he bursts from his enclosure, shatters stone with his bare hands, electricity crackling off him. That growled “then you die” to Ryu carries a wild, knowing mischief, and the way he scrambles up the cage wall afterwards is almost playful. This gleeful abandon captures the very soul of the character: Blanka has always been a beast trapped in a human shell, and Momoa plays the sheer don’t-care mania of it. For those of us who grew up on pixelated sprites, watching a Hollywood star happily paint himself green, roar, and get blasted across the arena by a fireball is its own kind of tribute.

From 1994’s evasion to 2026’s embrace, the franchise has learnt one lesson at last: when your source material is a world of oiled titans hurling fireballs, solemnity is the gravest insult of all. For the diehard faithful, this isn’t a film to be judged — it’s one to shout move names at.

Elven Ho

《街霸》短評

集體回憶的價值

以前從來沒想過集體回憶可以用來賣錢，但到了今時今日，荷里活電影製作人創作了《超音鼠大電影》系列後，又創作《街霸》，似乎集體回憶的市場長做長有，製作人不厭其煩地改編，觀眾又樂此不疲地觀賞，千禧後出生的少年青年觀眾可能沒有共鳴，但八九十後的中年觀眾卻興致勃勃地在觀影的過程中回想自己的集體回憶。莫非這就是現時全球電影界都關注的中年人市場？中年人是否已成為荷里活電影製作人心底裡最主要的目標觀眾群？

當少子化的趨勢在歐亞各地日趨普遍，與其要取悅人數日漸減少的少年和青年，不如先討好具有強勁消費力的中年。即使中年人並非每一位都是打機狂迷，他們最低限度應該聽過《街》這遊戲，八九十年代出生的女性可能沒有打機的習慣，但她們大多數都曾陪伴男朋友，看著他們打機，對《街》有或多或少的親切感/熟悉感。當她們在銀幕上看見隆（安德魯小路飾）及肯馬斯特斯（諾亞森迪尼奧飾）時，很大可能會想起昔日男朋友的打機實況。故觀影的集體回憶其實不限於親身參與遊戲的男性。

此外，《街》的電影發行公司可能擔心觀眾早已忘掉此遊戲內家喻戶曉的經典人物，刻意在電影院大堂內安排觀眾在觀影之前先打機，讓他們在之後的觀影過程中把影像與遊戲自然地聯繫在一起。或許影片內CG特效未至於出神入化，但每一個經典角色的絕招都在大銀幕上出現，為觀眾帶來打機時小屏幕欠缺的獨特體驗。特別是影片的IMAX版本帶來的震撼，使觀眾從小屏幕至大銀幕，在視聽觀感上獲得前所未有的體驗。因此，發行公司為了宣傳影片而替觀眾安排的「聯繫式」體驗，明顯別具心思。

由此可見，即使影片的高潮只集中在隆及肯馬斯特斯分別使出的波動拳，我們仍未看見他們有任何最新的招式，欠缺應有的新鮮感，我們依舊願意向影片「朝聖」，因為這是我們的集體回憶。這種回憶不可能被忘記，更不可能被取締，其存在的價值，正在於我們實實在在的生活體驗。此影像與現實的直接聯繫，明顯是這種回憶的最珍貴之處，亦是荷里活電影創作人「迷戀」現今全球主流的中年人市場的最主要原因。

《偵戰》

導演孔令政自編自導，勇氣與誠意值得肯定。惟影片在敘事邏輯上，仍有可再梳理之處。邏輯大致可分兩路：一為數學式的邏輯，偏重歸納論證；一為醫學式的邏輯，偏重演繹論證。前者意在證明彼此的關係，後者則以彼此的關係為線索，尋找可能的結果。兩者並非不能共存，但若同時出現，必須有先後秩序，否則觀眾容易在線索與結論之間迷失。本片正因混合兩種模式，卻未清楚安排主次，遂使推理時而像驗證，時而像探索，張力因此鬆散。

其次，資源有限，卻承載龐大複雜的故事，難免吃力。與其把資源平均分攤到各處，不如集中於幾個關鍵場合，讓重要場面有足夠力度。所謂好鋼用在刀刃上，與其樣樣點到，不如一處穿透。這樣既符合成本，也更能建立記憶點。

再者，時間背景略有混淆。映後有觀眾提出此問題，足見並非一人之感。導演若無意描述特定時空，便應避免出現具時代代表性的物件或道具，例如槍械、低頻聲波發生器等。因為這些符號一旦出現，觀眾自然會追問年代、制度與科技脈絡，從而干擾觀影的專注性。

最後，新導演最大的賣點應是個人特色，而非對類型電影的過度模仿。資源有限時，模仿容易變成低配版，既失去原創，也暴露短處。若能收束野心，突顯自身視角與節奏，反而更能顯出鋒芒。

整體而言，《偵戰》並非無心之作，只是邏輯先後、資源分配與時代設定尚可更自覺。若能站穩自身邏輯，集中資源善用精力，相信孔令政導演下一部作品會更見從容。

小浪

《我阿爹想旅行》短評

珍惜每一刻

與父母去旅行通常都是孩童時代的回憶，子女長大後，大部分都只會與朋友去旅行，願意陪伴年長的父母外遊的人實在少之又少。《我阿爹想旅行》內電影美術助理珊（鍾雪瑩飾）在醫院內陪伴患癌的父親莫鎮強（張家輝飾）度過人生最後的一剎那，幻想他突然想離開醫院去旅行，不單主動陪伴她出外工作，還自行臨時策劃行程，迫使她放下手上的工作，先去澳門，再去沖繩，重新拾回他倆相處一點一滴的回憶。或許我們發覺自己年青時不陪伴父母，到了他們垂死的一刻，才驚覺自己必須多花時間陪伴他們，一切已來得太遲。或許我們看著臥病在床的父母，已失去了行動的能力，自己與他們一起去旅行，已經變得不可能，後悔自己在年青時未抓緊機會與他們出外走走，到了他們年老時，一切已「過時」。《我》叫我們珍惜與父母共處的時光，讓我們重拾久違了的溫馨和暖意。

在現今社會裡，我們很多時候只惦掛自己的工作，並忽略了家人的需要，這使我們察覺他們年老患病時，其實未曾深入了解他們，遑論得悉自己在他們心底裡的重要性。一直以來，《我》的珊聆聽父親提及自己以前擔任臨時演員時影星洪金寶教他功夫的過程，他用說笑的口吻講述這段往事，她以為他說的全是戲言，沒有任何真實性。但在他去世後，她遇上洪，親自向其求證，始知道他說的全是事實。這證明她其實不太了解他，以為他開玩笑的說話全屬謊言，但他所說的內容其實句句屬實。所謂「事過境遷」，當一個人去世後，一切都已成過去，她花時間在他生前陪伴他了解他，比他去世後才求證他說話的真實性，前者的意義其實更大。即使她誤會了他，她已無法補救，遑論能替他「平反」。導演兼編劇黃綺琳在《我》內投射自己對父親的懷緬和思念，暗示兒女不一定對父母有深入的了解，情節具有真情實感，溫暖動人。

在《我》的片末，影片的畫面從幻想走向現實，透過珊的主觀角度，從沖繩返回香港，從她父親活躍充滿拼勁的光彩至了無生氣奄奄一息的慘狀，觀眾驚覺一切只是她的「南柯一夢」。或許我們對垂危的父母的思念可轉化為幻覺，藉此撫慰我們，以幻覺中的喜樂「治療」憂傷的心靈，並依靠自己與父母共聚的構想讓自己重拾陪伴父母的珍貴時光。

曉龍

《神奇秘密之旅》短評

善良的人都會犯法

《神奇秘密之旅》的故事情節匪夷所思，和歌子（有村架純飾）、清惠（黑木華飾）與麻由（南沙良飾）偶遇，三人同樣貧窮，同樣需要賺快錢，同是天涯淪落人，同樣靠走私黃金往返日本及新加坡以便還債，各種巧合，不知道是她們個人的錯，旁人的錯，還是社會的錯。她們的際遇不濟，固然是主要的原因，但在大都市內極容易弄致負債累累，這與遇人不淑、經濟環境欠佳確實有密切的關係。或許以正常的工作賺錢不容易，才被迫鋌而走險，即使走私是犯法的行為，仍然不會違反自己的良知，因為這種行為只讓自己較輕易地賺取「小便宜」，不曾傷害社會，亦沒有害人。因此，她們「心安理得」地走私，與現今二三十歲的年青一代較寬鬆的價值觀及較低的道德標準有密切的關係。

《神》的劇本改編自真人真事，或許上述的巧合真的有可能發生，但出現的機率確實微乎其微。或許2010年代的偵查走私機器較落後，三位女主角以孕婦、傷殘人士等特殊身分便可蒙混過關，即使難以置信，但在旅客繁多、業務繁忙的機場旺季，確實有可能出現此情況。或許影片內多加一點環境的描寫，加入機場工作人員過度繁忙辛勞的敘述，上述蒙混過關的情況便會較具說服力，她們走私了幾次仍然不會被捕的可能性亦會大大提高。影片初段至中段內她們成功走私的原因，其實需要與以上提出的有利因素互相配合，否則，日本與新加坡海關偵查系統的漏洞實在太多，執法人員只問她們幾句便放人的做法亦太寬鬆。因此，影片的橋段出乎意料之外，但是否合乎情理之中，這實屬見仁見智。

由此可見，《神》別具創意，描寫三個陌生人因共同目標而走在一起，這種出其不意的合作關係，只建基於利益，沒有特殊的關係牽涉其中，遑論會有任何感情，但三位女主角共患難，任何一位都不想坐牢，只想重過正常的生活，這反而在短時間內使她們建立了珍貴的友誼。或許命運弄人，生活艱苦，她們被「逼上梁山」，不得不犯法，不得不走進社會的「邊緣地帶」。她們值得同情，在於其不曾犯下甚麼嚴重的錯，卻因旁人的行為及自身的不幸而不得不想方法賺快錢，這是她們難以操控的處境，亦是其心甘情願地捲入走私集團的最大誘因。因此，不一定十惡不赦的人才會犯法，即使是善良的人，遇上困難的處境，想不到解決問題的最佳辦法，都會有犯法的可能。

曉龍

《特立獨行》短評

中國式的辦事方法

超級英雄要拯救世人，絕不簡單，亦不容易。他除了需要有超能力外，還要懂得中國式的辦事方法，要喝酒應酬，要圓滑交際，要思想正面，要討好領導，更要阿諛奉承…。《特立獨行》內「飛銀」王長海（白敬亭飾）曾經擊敗外星人，返回地球後，滿腔熱血，以為自己憑著獨一無二的超能力，便可幹一番大事，殊不知中國內地一個小小的縣城都有自己的潛規則，他不熟悉這些規則，做事便會處處碰壁，要成立一個新的組織，除了要符合官方的要求外，還必須掃除人事的障礙，只有這樣，組建「超英戰鬥小隊」才可水到渠成。「超英分會」會長老夏（魏翔飾）教導長海中國式的辦事方法，讓長海領悟要通過官府審批而成立「超英戰鬥小隊」的竅門，說穿了，條文只是條文，人可以改變條文的內容，要通過審批，其實人事比文件(條文)規則更重要。

中國人做事，講求關係，你與我熟絡，任何事都可以做；你與我不熟絡，任何事都不能做，這就是中國人重視的人情世故。領導說自己喜歡聽真說話，但其實這只是經「修飾」的語言，實際上，他們喜歡聽虛偽的美言。《特》內長海對領導說自己「可以為人民犧牲」的美言信以為真，竟在危難之際救人民而犧牲領導，即使他熟悉官場的潛規則，仍然對上述美言一竅不通。或許這就是他率真的本性，改變行為以迎合社會規範容易，但改變自己的本性卻「難於上青天」。可能他單純，思想簡單，根本不懂易位思考，遑論能從領導們的身分和立場洞悉他們每一句「肺腑之言」其實是用來籠絡民心的真諦。或許他對縣長（張國強飾）與煤老闆趙金豐（蘇小玎飾）這類貪心卑鄙的領導們的心思一知半解，以為他們真的為人民著想，但其實他們只是用盡方法在人民身上掠取小便宜的小人。

無可否認，《特》是奉行中國政府打擊貪腐原則的主旋律電影。影片諷刺的不是中國政府的政策，而是執行政策而經常搾取人民利益的小人。中國政府主張的「為人民服務」不是說過就算的虛言，而是實實在在的真說話。「假大空」的說話不單毫無意義，由領導說出口，還有欺騙人民的成分。或許從心出發，真心誠意地說出「可以為人民犧牲」的言語，並與良好的行為配合，知行合一，才是真的為人民著想的至理名言。

Fleece, Fangs and Frightful Fun: Why Aardman’s Latest Shaun Adventure Is a Monstrous Delight

Aardman’s beloved flock returns with a spooky Halloween caper, proving that silent comedy remains the studio’s finest export.

As the closing film of this year’s Hong Kong Anifest, Shaun the Sheep: The Beast of Mossy Bottom arrives as a delightfully spooky confection. The film sees the Farmer accidentally transformed into a hirsute, Bigfoot-like creature after Shaun’s well-meaning scientific experiments to save a pumpkin patch go awry, triggering a chain of gloriously chaotic events.

The franchise has always thrived on its dialogue-free, silent-movie sensibility, and this third instalment maintains that glorious tradition. Where the first film delivered a fish-out-of-water city adventure and Farmageddon riffed on sci-fi tropes, this outing turns to classic Universal monsters and Hammer Horror. The sheep’s boundless curiosity and the Farmer’s hapless romantic woes remain the emotional core.

What makes it special is the sheer craftsmanship. Aardman’s stop-motion work remains breathtaking, with the beast puppet representing one of their largest and most complex creations to date. The visual gags—from Psycho shower scene homages to a genuinely hilarious take on parking signs—land with impeccable timing. It is a warm, witty, and lovingly handmade reminder that Aardman is still without peer in family entertainment.

Elven Ho

A Quiet Roar: Tiger Closes HKLGFF with Raw Emotion

The 34th Hong Kong Lesbian & Gay Film Festival drew its curtains last night with the Hong Kong premiere of Tiger, a quietly devastating Japanese drama that arrives trailing acclaim from the Busan International Film Festival, where it captured the Hylife Vision Award. The evening was further elevated by the presence of lead actor Takashi Kawaguchi, whose attendance at the post-screening Q&A offered a rare glimpse into the crafting of such a vulnerable performance.

Tiger centres on Taiga Katagiri, a 35-year-old gay masseur navigating the quiet indignities of middle age in Tokyo‘s Shinjuku Ni-chome. He works diligently in a modest parlour, his hands kneading away the tensions of strangers while his own life remains stubbornly knotted. The film’s title is a poignant irony; Taiga is no prowling predator, but a man rendered docile by circumstance and a lifetime of compromise. His world is one of muted colours and unspoken regrets, a stark contrast to the vibrant, albeit transactional, world he is tempted to enter.

Directed by Anshul Chauhan, a Tokyo-based Indian filmmaker whose previous work includes December (2022), the film is Chauhan‘s fourth feature and represents a striking evolution in his already assured body of work . His narrative approach here is a delicate fusion of the dramatic and the documentary, drawing from real-life stories he collected over three years researching Japan’s LGBTQ+ community . This grounding in authenticity lends the film a texture that elevates it beyond conventional queer cinema.

The narrative‘s central conflict arises when financial strain and a yearning for something more push Taiga to audition for the porn industry. It is not a descent into sensationalism, but a quiet, almost desperate, sidestep. Chauhan handles this transition with a delicate touch, focusing not on the mechanics of the work, but on its emotional toll. The camera lingers on Kawaguchi’s face, capturing a complex blend of shame, curiosity, and a strange, detached professionalism.

Parallel to this is Taiga‘s strained relationship with his estranged family. When his father falls ill, he returns to his hometown, only to find the family relationship fracturing over inheritance. His sister Minami (Maho Nonami) threatens to reveal his sexuality if he does not relinquish his claim to the family home—a cruel weaponisation of his identity that cuts deeper than any physical blow . These interactions are the film’s emotional core, conversations filled with long pauses and sentences left unfinished, where love is expressed through obligation and resentment simmers just beneath the surface.

Kawaguchi, reuniting with Chauhan after their collaboration on Bad Poetry Tokyo (2018), embodies Taiga with a profound stillness, conveying a universe of feeling through a downward glance or a weary sigh . His physicality is key; the slight stoop of his shoulders speaks of burdens carried for decades. In the film’s more intimate moments, he navigates the character‘s internal conflict with astonishing grace, never resorting to melodrama. His presence on screen is magnetic in its quietude, and his willingness to lay bare Taiga’s soul is a gift to the audience.

Tiger is not an easy watch, nor is it a neatly resolved one. It offers no easy answers, only a profound and lingering portrait of a man learning to live with the roar of his own suppressed desires. It is a fittingly contemplative closing film for a festival that champions diverse voices, reminding us that some of the most powerful stories are those whispered, not shouted.

Elven Ho

Forgotten Island: A Joyous, Unapologetically Filipino Animated Adventure

Forgotten Island is a vibrant, culturally rich animated feature that marks a significant milestone for Filipino representation in mainstream Hollywood. Co-directed by Joel Crawford and Filipino-American Januel Mercado, the film follows best friends Jo (H.E.R.) and Raissa (Liza Soberano) as they navigate a surreal world of fading memories on the mystical island of Nakali. Set in 1990s Philippines, the story explores themes of friendship and migration with genuine emotional depth.

What distinguishes the film is its unapologetic celebration of Filipino culture. The filmmakers drew heavily on the country’s rich folklore, populating Nakali with mythical creatures such as the manananggal, tiyanak, and kapre. These are not mere decorative elements but integral to the narrative. The animation style ingeniously blends traditional hand-drawn techniques with CG, even incorporating 2D anime sequences for flashback scenes, a visual language that reflects the directors’ formative influences. The vibrant colour palette and meticulous attention to detail—from the glossy lechon at a despedida party to the everyday presence of jeepneys—create a world that feels authentically lived-in rather than superficially exotic.

A significant highlight is the participation of Lea Salonga. She voices The Dreaded Manananggal, the film’s fearsome antagonist, bringing a formidable presence to the role. Her involvement extends to the film’s soundtrack, where she lends her vocals to several tracks composed by Nathan Matthew David, including “Ninakaw Sa Akin,” “Magnanakaw,” “Balik,” and “Bahagi Mo”. Salonga’s place in musical history is already assured: at eighteen, she originated the role of Kim in the West End production of Miss Saigon, becoming the first Filipina to win a Tony Award for her performance. She would later become the singing voice of two Disney princesses, Jasmine and Mulan, and in 2011 was named a Disney Legend.

A personal note: I have seen Salonga with her daughter and husband at Hong Kong Disneyland on more than one occasion when I was working in the theme park, a testament to her enduring relationship with the Disney legacy. Her involvement in Forgotten Island, alongside a predominantly Filipino principal cast including Dolly de Leon and Jo Koy, underscores the film’s commitment to authentic representation both in front of and behind the microphone.

The film’s emotional core rests on the chemistry between H.E.R. and Liza Soberano, whose performances convincingly depict a friendship strained by impending separation. While the overall narrative arc may follow a predictable path, the journey itself is frequently surprising, filled with imaginative set-pieces and visual invention.

Forgotten Island ultimately succeeds not just as a piece of entertainment, but as a cultural artefact. It demonstrates that a story rooted in specifically Filipino traditions—its myths, its food, its warmth—can resonate with universal themes of memory, identity, and the pain of letting go. It is an impressive achievement for DreamWorks Animation and a joyous, unapologetically Filipino adventure that deserves international audiences.

Elven Ho