The Way We Talk Review

Inclusivity is deeply important to me. While I am not disabled and, by most societal standards, could be considered “normal,” I have witnessed firsthand how, when society fails to adapt, many people are left behind and denied the opportunity to live life to the fullest. Something as simple as walking to a meeting room might be a minor inconvenience for some, but it can be a mental and physical struggle for others. The Way We Talk explores disability through the lens of three deaf characters: Wolf (Neo Yau), who communicates exclusively through sign language; Sophie (Chung Suet Ying), who cannot sign because she was raised to be “normal” and taught to work twice as hard so no one would know she is deaf; and Alan (Marco Ng), who can both sign and use spoken language and is an advocate for cochlear implants (CIs). We see our three leads form meaningful relationships and have their beliefs tested as society challenges their very existence in this powerful and important film.

The story opens in 2005 with Alan and Wolf playfully mucking around in a park before heading to school. At that time in Hong Kong, schools followed an “oralism policy,” which meant sign language was banned, and deaf children were taught to communicate through speech in order to better assimilate into society. This policy remained in place until 2010. Jumping ahead to 2024, we witness Sophie’s graduation from her perspective and experience how she hears the world—as though through a broken and distorted speaker. Forced by her mother to learn how to speak, Sophie becomes an ambassador for CIs and works with Alan to deliver a speech showcasing how the implants changed her life. However, during the speech, she states that she hopes there will be no more deaf people in the world—a comment that deeply offends Wolf, who is in attendance.

From there, the lives of the three characters become increasingly intertwined, and their upbringings and disabilities continue to shape their daily experiences. Wolf dreams of becoming a diving instructor, having loved swimming with fish since childhood. While he masters the practical aspects of diving, he struggles with the theoretical parts of the course due to the failures of the education system he grew up with and his need for translation . Sophie is caught between two worlds: since she cannot sign, she cannot communicate with deaf people who rely solely on sign language, yet because she is deaf, others assume she can sign. She also faces difficulty finding employment, as she is perceived as less competent than hearing candidates. Alan, meanwhile, moves fluently between both worlds but has become so accustomed to conventional communication methods that he now embodies the very ideal of how disabled people should behave in society—an ideal he once protested against as a child.

The Way We Talk is a deeply emotional journey that, unfortunately, illustrates how society still fails to adapt and be inclusive toward people with disabilities—resulting in many being left behind. A meritocracy-based society disproportionately impacts those seen as “different,” reinforcing structural barriers rather than dismantling them. Just as films like Enter the Dragon and Black Panther showed how diversity can profoundly influence culture—allowing many children to finally see otherworldly superheroes who aren’t white—the same principle applies to disability. If we see more disabled people thriving across different fields, younger generations will grow up knowing that disability is not a burden. The Way We Talk is inherently pro-DEI, stressing that while diversity, equity, and inclusion can be co-opted by corporations as hollow slogans, meaningful societal change is impossible without them.

The film’s message is clear and impactful—but is somewhat undermined by its casting. Based on initial research, deaf actors were cast in the film; however, two of the three leads are not deaf. Neo Yaun and Chung Suet Ying give truly remarkable performances as Wolf and Sophie, respectively. Still, it feels disingenuous for them to portray a disability they do not live with, especially while performing with a deaf voice, which some viewers may find in poor taste. Although this choice didn’t significantly detract from my experience—particularly given that Chung Suet Ying delivers a career-defining performance—it did feel jarring. Having previously seen her in The Lyricist Wannabe, I knew she was not a deaf actor, making her use of a deaf voice feel more performative than authentic.

One of the film’s most powerful elements is its sound design. As mentioned earlier, we see—and, more importantly, hear—many scenes from Sophie’s perspective, replicating what the world might sound like to someone with a cochlear implant. The result is intentionally grating: distorted voices blending into static, reflecting how even with CIs, hearing is not the miracle solution it’s sometimes marketed to be. Similarly, when scenes shift to Wolf’s perspective, the audio becomes muffled and nearly indistinguishable from silence, producing some truly affecting moments.

The Way We Talk may well be one of the most important Hong Kong films in recent memory. Adam Wong has crafted a profoundly moving work, guided by his visionary and tightly focused direction. By the time the credits roll, you’re left genuinely moved. While I wish all the lead actors were deaf, I still believe the film’s message is vital—and by the end, that casting concern is largely overshadowed by the emotional weight of the story.