For both actors, the film—despite its splashy, steamy elements which the promotional campaigns have been focusing on, Wu says, “to boost box office” numbers—is less about the sex and more about human fragility and the journey of finding love. “The characters’ relationships may seem casual and full of mistakes, but they’re all striving to find a taste of love and hope in their broken lives,” Wu says. His character, for instance, failed at his marriage. While his second relationship with Xiao Lu, which centres around sexual gratification, is fraught by his daughter’s loathing of his extramarital affair, it offers him “a new life and chance to happiness in a life that’s full of pain. The film shows the process of two injured people healing themselves.”

Liu further thinks the film can be a reflection of social progress in conversations about gender identities and sex. “Our world is more open-minded nowadays. We live in an age when we can bring up all kinds of discussions about love, sex, gender and relationships,” she says. “People comment that this film’s subjects are bold, but I don’t think it’s in any way novel, because I’m sure they’re common [thoughts] among us. We just tend to keep them private.”

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Or adds, “[Sexual] desire is in our nature, like gluttony. But it’s just because we are taught not to talk about it publicly that we’re under the impression that sex is a private, almost secretive matter, even if that shouldn’t be the case. Ironically, the more secretive the topic is, the more interested people are. And now Yang brings it all out into the limelight for us to see onscreen, which has given people the space to talk about what used to be taboos.”

And while there are explicit scenes of nudity and sexual acts, Or points out that the camera angle keeps the focus on storytelling, shifting the audience’s focus from the actors’ bodies to their emotions. “Even in the sex scenes, you won’t feel the sense of eroticism, because Yang didn’t want it to be an erotic movie,” he says. “It’s a pure love movie.”

Yang also worked hard to ensure the cast was at ease throughout the process, arranging intimacy coordinators and requiring all crew members had to hand in their phones when they arrived on set. Liang says, “I felt very protected and comfortable. This trust we developed helped with my acting. The greatest challenge [for me was] shooting my BDSM scenes and getting used to being tied up. But there wasn’t much of a psychological hurdle—the crew was more nervous about protecting me than I was myself.”

The Chronicles of Libidoists doesn’t rely entirely on literal visual representation; the director also made use of poetic mise-en-scène to create moods. For instance, water serves a metaphor for the flow of emotions (and reflects Yang’s borrowing of themes from The Little Mermaid, in which a princess longs for impossible love); in Xiao Lu’s monologue, Yang compared the state of orgasm to the Buddhist concept of nirvana.

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While The Chronicles of Libidoists is making waves and opening up conversations about modern sex and love, it may still take time for audiences in Asia to warm up to the genre, despite the continent’s history of erotic cinema—think Nagisa Ōshima’s 1976 In the Realm of the Senses, for which the Japanese government brought obscenity charges against the director; or Ang Lee’s espionage thriller Lust, Caution (2007), which was banned in mainland China due to the steamy love scenes.

Yang, whose previous movies also touched on the erotic, hasn’t been censored for his art. But when the film premiered in Taiwan in June, the audience were split into two camps: “Some didn’t like it; but some found the characters’ stories relatable,” says Or, who has been following online comments. “It really depends on the angle from which you look at the film, and whether you relate to it with your personal experience.”

Liu doesn’t feel that the film should be burdened with the responsibility of challenging cinema’s artistic boundaries or opening up minds and conversations; it’s OK for it just to be a film. “It’s difficult to represent the whole Taiwan with just four characters,” she says. “We’re just presenting their slices of life, through which I hope people, who see themselves in the same situations, can find some support or consolation.”

As the movie opens in Hong Kong, the cast is excited to see what conversations it will spark here. Already, Liang is noting a difference between Taiwanese audiences and her Hong Kong friends who have watched the movie abroad. “They were curious about our hook-up culture, which seem to be more openly talked about in Taiwan,” she says.

Wu adds, “It’s the same movie with the same director’s cut that we’re showing in both territories, but there may be regional differences in how we look at love and relationships. I’m happy to share this story with the Hong Kong audience, and I hope it will flourish in its own way in Hong Kong.”

Credits

Photographer Zed Leets
Photographer Assistant Carlos Hui

Wu Kang-Ren
Wardrobe The Row and Lane Crawford
Makeup Cac Leung
Hair Tac / Triple 8 Salon

Liu Chu-Ping
Wardrobe Weekend Max Mara and Charles & Keith
Makeup Lu
Hair Tac / Triple 8 Salon

Alisia Liang
Wardrobe Sandro
Shoes Charles & Keith
Makeup Cici
Hair Kenneth / Salon Nap Chic

Will Or
Wardrobe Marcch
Shoes Camper
Makeup Tammy Au
Hair Oscar Ngan

Venue The Park Lane Hong Kong, a Pullman Hotel

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