“But I say to you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:44). While the bible calls for unconditional love, should a pastor forgive someone who raped his daughter and caused her death? Valley of the Shadow of Death is one of the first Hong Kong movies examining the turmoil between faith and humanity.
★★★★☆
Directed by Jeffrey Lam and Antonia Tam, two emerging Hong Kong directors, Valley of the Shadow of Death critiques the boundary of love and forgiveness in Christianity. In the film, Pastor Leung (Anthony Wong) finds himself in a dire situation when Chi Lok (George Au), a young man who raped his daughter years ago, is released from prison and unexpectedly joins his church. Can the pastor forgive him despite his instinct to vengeance? Is the gospel too demanding for humans, and how far should selfless love go?
From the Swedish classic Winter Light (1963) to the Hollywood production Spotlight (2015), Western cinema has long critiqued Christianity and the church’s ethics, but it is rare in Hong Kong. While Valley of the Shadow of Death explores the universal theme of love and forgiveness in the Bible, it adds a local touch to the issue. For example, Pastor Leung meets Chi Lok in a classic local fast-food shop, and his church demonstrates the typical small size of Hong Kong’s churches resulting from a the lack of space. The movie also connects faith with student suicide, one of the most discussed social problems in the city in recent years. These scenes offer a fresh, non-Western cinema presentation of Christianity.
Like other movies about faith, Valley of the Shadow of Death depicts the complexity of humanity against religious convention. All characters struggle to resolve their internal grapple between the faithful and the selfish, yet ordinary selves. Pastor Leung suppresses his hatred of Chi Lok to be a loyal Christ follower; his wife hides her grief to maintain their relationship; Chi Lok’s apparent criminality is more complex than it seems. Such complications are effectively presented by the leading actors and actresses due to their outstanding performances. While Antony Wong is internationally renowned, it is the debut film for George Au. His performance of such a difficult character, one who is both pure and dark, shameful and helpless, is striking.
Humans are emotional, and irrational. We may love one person with disgust, or forgive one person while hating another forever. There is no clear black and white in our decision-making, but the Christian gospel tends to define moral dichotomies between man/God and love/sin. As the verses recited by Pastor Leung show, men are sinful at birth, and only God can forgive. When men “have sinned and done wrong…[they] have turned away from [God’s] commands and laws” (Daniel 9:5).
The film carefully selects specific verses to deliver this sense of division verbally, and elevates it with the symmetrical composition and high level of contrast. Pastor Leung’s character massively changes after the plot twists, the film critiquing whether the clearly defined gospel is too demanding for humans. Even as a pastor, he does not know how forgiving he should be. An ambiguous ending lets the audience reflect on the limitations of love, something also applicable to non-Christians and particularly relevant in Hong Kong and East Asian societies, where Confucian traditions also set a high moral standard for people’s love, discipline, and desire.
Although the plot is thought-provoking, it lacks progression, especially before the plot twist. Scenes where Pastor Leung forces Chi Lok to acknowledge his sin could feel too repetitive, and the film misses the opportunity to deepen the moral dilemma faced by the protagonist. The narrative of the pastor’s wife is also lacking. After her daughter’s death, she leaves the church and cannot tolerate her husband’s biblical rhetoric. Embracing her weakness and frustration as a human, she claims a greater agency against faith than her husband. More insights into this changing attitude towards her husband or faith could have made a more rounded script. However, the brief 90-minute runtime is perhaps too short to fully illustrate the complex characters and answer the heavy topic of faith comprehensively.
The Verdict
Valley of the Shadow of Death demonstrates a compelling plot and powerful visuals that support each other, but the former is undermined by the slightly incomplete storytelling. Nevertheless, it represents the bold discussion of religion Hong Kong cinema needs, as well as the diverse depiction of faith global cinema lacks.
Word by Angel Sun
Valley of the Shadow of Death is in UK cinemas from 14th November
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