For many in Hong Kong, April 1 has never been just about jokes. It is the day Leslie Cheung took his own life at the Mandarin Oriental hotel in Central — and every year since, fans have returned to the same spot.
What has become an annual tradition: fans bring flowers, handwritten letters, photos, and albums. Some stand quietly while others take pictures. From morning until dusk, the crowd comes and goes. Yet the pavement outside the hotel is never empty on this day.
Yesterday, Hongkongers and tourists gathered once again. White flowers and bouquets piled up against the hotel wall, alongside handwritten letters addressed to “Gor Gor” — the name his fans have always called him.
More than 23 years later, Leslie Cheung remains far more than just a singer or actor. Rising to fame in the 1980s with hits like Monica, he became a Cantopop icon. On screen, his roles in Farewell My Concubine and Happy Together showcased a rare depth and fearlessness. Off stage, he was known for his kindness — and for living authentically at a time when few dared to do so.
Today, a surprising shift is taking place. Many of those holding flowers were not even born when Leslie passed away in 2003. Through streaming platforms, film retrospectives, and word of mouth, a younger generation has discovered his work and found in him something that still speaks to them today.
‘I miss his performances. I miss everything about him.’
Sandy first fell in love with Leslie Cheung’s music as a child. Monica remains her favourite song.
“I loved it when I was young, and I still love it now,” she said.
But for Sandy, who came to the Mandarin Oriental with her young son, Leslie represents something deeper. She read stories about how kind he was to everyone around him.
“That’s what I look up to,” she said. “He is my role model.”
There is a special connection, too. Her son shares a birthday with Leslie — September 12. She often plays Leslie’s songs for him and tells him stories about the star. For her, passing on that memory is a way of keeping him alive.
Monica may be the song that made Leslie a household name, but his body of work goes far deeper. Songs like The Wind Continues to Blow and Chase have become classics for many Hongkongers — melodies that carry memories of a particular time and place.
Mr. Au, who has followed Leslie since the 1980s, put it this way: “Whether it’s Leslie Cheung or other Cantopop singers, Cantopop itself is a valuable culture that should be passed on. It’s not just about one person.”
On screen, Farewell My Concubine remains his most celebrated role. The film tells the story of two Peking opera singers, one of whom secretly loves the other. It is a love story between two men, set against decades of Chinese history. When the film came out in 1993, such a subject was rarely seen on screen. But Leslie took the role without hesitation, and his performance — tender, painful, unforgettable — became one of the greatest in cinema. It is a film worth watching not just because it is a classic, but because it shows an artist who was never afraid to take risks.
Louis, 19, discovered Leslie long after he was gone. He was not even born when Leslie passed away, yet he has become a devoted fan.
“His work still feels fresh, even after 20 or 30 years,” Louis said. “Some of today’s artists — when you look back at their work a few years later, it feels dated. But Leslie’s work? It’s still timeless.”
This year, young faces were easy to spot among the crowd outside the Mandarin Oriental. Mr. Au admitted he found it surprising.
“It’s a bit strange, honestly,” he said. “Normally, such young kids wouldn’t have grown up listening to his music — after all, he’s been gone for more than 20 years.”
But for Louis, the connection makes perfect sense. He first saw Leslie on television as a child — a movie playing in the background that left an impression he would only understand years later.
“When I was younger, I thought listening to Leslie Cheung or Anita Mui might seem old-fashioned,” he said. “But I feel like since around 2020, that’s changed. People see them differently now — they see them as role models.”
He paused, then added: “Leslie dared to be himself. He was the first major artist in Hong Kong to publicly come out as gay. Now, with more attention on LGBTQ+ issues, people look back at his story and respect him even more.”
For Louis, Leslie represents something that never goes out of style.
“If someone has good taste,” he said with a smile, “they will naturally appreciate his work.”
A 70th birthday tribute
This year, Hong Kong is marking what would have been Leslie’s 70th birthday with a special cinematic event.
A 4K restoration of The Kid (Lau Sing Yu) will be screened on April 26 at 7:30 PM at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre’s Grand Theatre. The film holds a unique place in his career: during a downturn in Hong Kong’s film industry, he accepted a symbolic fee of just one Hong Kong dollar to support local cinema.
Tickets are priced at HK$70 and have been available through the URBTIX system since March 28.
As the evening light fades over Central, the flowers outside the Mandarin Oriental continued to multiply. Twenty-three years after his death, as long as people play his songs, watch his films, and pass his story to the next generation, the wind will continue to blow.