The lives of a few intersect in the lead-up to and fallout from a bus explosion that rips through downtown Hong Kong on Valentine’s Day, killing all those aboard. Former cop, now forensic specialist, Leung (Patrick Tam) is called in to investigate the cause of the explosion, he and his team diligently going through the pieces of both what remains of the bus and its passengers to determine whether the explosion was an accident or a planned attack. Along with the investigation, flashbacks show the lives of lovers Fai (Anson Kong) and Ike (Ansonbean), the hardships they endure being young and gay in modern Hong Kong, and the events that lead them to be on the bus when it exploded. The crosscutting of the present-day investigation and the lives of the young lads shows some of the parallels and prejudices Leung shared with Fai and Ike, and the dramatic circumstances that imply the young men may be more involved in the bus’s destruction than first thought.

Herman Yau, the once enfant terrible of the Category III genre now turned often bombastic action-blockbuster helmer, returns with a much more sedate though no less shocking effort. Don’t expect the pulse-pounding action of his recent slick Andy Lau vehicle ‘Shock Wave 2’ or the in-your-face grue of his cinema nasty classic ‘The Untold Story’; ‘We’re Nothing at All’ is much more of a meditative and dramatic affair. Albeit one very much undercut by a sense of hopeless nihilism. The film can be seen as either a police procedural wrapped up in a sombre drama or a sombre drama wrapped up in a police procedural. A risky approach, but one that mostly works thanks to Yau’s measured hand with pace, photography, and the strong performances he elicits from his cast. The film both explores the events preceding the bus explosion and those post the explosion, charting both the build-up and fallout from such a horrific event.

On those terms the film works quite well, though the investigation which opens the film gives way more to the relationship between the two young men as the film goes on. Really, Yau is using the framing of a tragic incident to explore how the characters, especially the two young protagonists, have been marginalised and persecuted by society. An often damning but eye-opening look at how homosexuals and sex workers are looked upon and treated by society (in this case modern-day Hong Kong), ‘We’re Nothing at All’ pulls no punches in its depictions of those forced to live on the fringes of society, with the threat of violence and oppression prevalent every day. Yau’s film is a tough and often dark watch but made compelling by the likeable and strong performances from the two young leads: singers Anson Kong and Ansonbean.

Perhaps the film’s main fault is that everything becomes so unrelentingly doom-laced that the message of unpardonable persecution becomes lost in a barrage of depressing situations. The film, despite its good intentions, just becomes too heavy-handed in its message. In addition, the film’s conclusion, while powerful in its revelation of what happened on the bus and the reasons why those who committed such an atrocity could be pushed to do so, includes an extra, almost “surprise” sting in the tale that just smacks of the nasty and unneeded (though it could quite viably occur), pushing proceedings to climax on too much of an exploitative vibe.

It may not be wholly successful in its intentions and too relentless to show you how shit life is, but ‘We’re Nothing at All’ is still mostly an assured and absorbing film from a filmmaker welcomingly flexing his dramatic side.