Leslie Cheung (張國榮): The Cantonese Superstar Who Made Hong Kong Braver

Night view of Hong Kong's Victoria Harbour skyline with illuminated skyscrapers

In 1977, a skinny 21-year-old walked onstage at the Hong Kong Pop Folk Music Festival, sang a soft ballad — and got booed off the stage. He tossed his hat into the crowd on his way out. That hat, and that boy, would become Leslie Cheung: the singer, actor, and quiet revolutionary who turned Hong Kong's biggest superstar into something the city had never allowed itself to imagine.

By the time he died in 2003, Leslie Cheung had released more than 40 albums, acted in 56 films, sold out 33 consecutive nights at the Hong Kong Coliseum, and rewritten what a Cantonese superstar could look like on stage. And more than two decades later, on the 1st of April every year, the flower shops around Central still run out of white roses.

Night view of Hong Kong's Victoria Harbour skyline with illuminated skyscrapers
The city Leslie Cheung sang, acted, and defined — Victoria Harbour at night. Photo via Pexels

The Tailor's Youngest Son

Leslie Cheung Kwok-wing (張國榮) was born on 12 September 1956 in Kowloon, the youngest of ten children. His father was a celebrity tailor whose clients included Hollywood stars like Cary Grant and Marlon Brando, but Leslie grew up feeling like the invisible tenth kid in a busy household. At 12, he was sent to boarding school in England, where he studied textiles at the University of Leeds before dropping out and returning to Hong Kong in 1976.

He wasn't supposed to become a star. He was supposed to run a shop. Instead, he sang cover songs at nightclubs, wore a bright red suit to try out for a talent show, and started a career that would take Hong Kong 26 years to fully appreciate.

A Cantonese Boy Who Made the Language Cool Again

Leslie spent his teens in England speaking English at school and Cantonese at home over long-distance phone calls. When he came back to Hong Kong, he had a slightly awkward Cantonese accent — softer, more clipped — that became part of his signature vulnerability on screen. In an industry where Mandarin ballads were often considered 'higher class,' Leslie made Cantonese sound intimate. He sang the language people spoke to their mothers.

That's part of why 哥哥 (Gor Gor — 'big brother'), the affectionate nickname his fans and co-stars gave him, has never really faded from the vocabulary of Hong Kong pop culture.

🎤 He Was Booed Off Stage — Then Sold Out 33 Nights in a Row

At his first-ever public performance in 1977, the audience booed and hissed until he left the stage. He kept the recording of that boo. Thirteen years later, at his 1989 Farewell Concert Tour, he sold out 33 consecutive nights at the Hong Kong Coliseum, ending on 22 January 1990. The final show was so packed that fans lined up outside just to hear the music leak through the walls.

🎬 Wong Kar-wai Made Him Dance in a Mambo

In 'Days of Being Wild' (1990), director Wong Kar-wai gave Leslie a solo dance scene — no dialogue, just Xavier Cugat's 'Perfidia' and a rebellious drifter shirtless in front of a mirror. Leslie improvised most of it. The scene won him Best Actor at the 1991 Hong Kong Film Awards and is now regarded as one of the most iconic moments in Chinese cinema. Just him, a mambo, and about a minute of pure charisma.

Silhouette of a performer under dramatic concert stage lights
The Passion Tour (2000–2001) broke Asian attendance records — including being the first foreign artist to hold 16 concerts in Japan. Photo via Pexels

🎭 He Learned Peking Opera for a Year to Play Cheng Dieyi

For his role as the cross-dressing Peking opera star in 'Farewell My Concubine' (1993), Leslie spent months training in the ancient art form — hand gestures, footwork, the falsetto vocal technique. Director Chen Kaige initially doubted a Cantopop idol could handle the role. The film went on to become the first Chinese-language film to win the Palme d'Or at Cannes, and Leslie's performance is now taught in film schools worldwide.

💫 He Wore a Skirt in the 2000 Passion Tour

For his Passion Tour (2000–2001), Leslie collaborated with French designer Jean Paul Gaultier on stage costumes — including a shoulder-length wig, a skirt, and eye makeup that sparked national debate. Tabloids ridiculed him. He didn't back down. Two decades later, that tour is remembered as one of Asia's most groundbreaking pop performances — and Gaultier still keeps sketches of Leslie in his Paris archive.

The Man Who Made Hong Kong Braver

Leslie's public relationship with his partner Daffy Tong Hok-tak, a banker and childhood friend, was one of the first openly acknowledged same-sex partnerships in the Hong Kong entertainment industry. He mentioned Daffy in his concerts, dedicated songs to him on stage, and never played coy about who mattered in his life. In a Cantonese pop world that still fumbled with these conversations, Leslie's honesty gave a generation of Hong Kongers permission to be themselves.

If you look through Wong Kar-wai's Hong Kong films of the '90s or into the roots of Cantopop's Four Heavenly Kings era, Leslie is threaded through all of it — a quiet centre of gravity around which the whole scene turned.

A Cantonese Word He Made Iconic

哥哥

go1 go1  —  Jyutping romanisation

Meaning: Big brother — the affectionate nickname Leslie's fans and co-stars use for him to this day.

Explanation: The nickname started on the set of 'A Better Tomorrow' (1986) when younger co-stars called him 哥哥 out of respect. It stuck. In Cantonese-speaking communities, saying '哥哥' without a name attached still, more than 20 years after his death, almost always means Leslie Cheung.

In real life: 今日聽哥哥啲歌,好懷念。('Gam1 jat6 teng1 go1 go1 di1 go1, hou2 waai4 nim6.' — Listening to Gor Gor's songs today, feeling nostalgic.)

Why He Still Matters

Leslie died on 1 April 2003, after a long battle with clinical depression. He was 46. In the years since, his birthday and death anniversary have become almost ritual for Cantonese-speaking communities from Hong Kong to Toronto to Sydney — a day for playing 'Monica,' rewatching 'Days of Being Wild,' and remembering the kind of person he was: gentle, generous, and unafraid to be the softest man in the room.

He gave the global Cantonese community a version of themselves that was elegant, complicated, and unapologetically free. And in a language that so often runs fast and loud, he showed that Cantonese could also be sung slowly, and honestly, and beautifully — in the voice of someone who used to be a boy in a red suit hoping the audience wouldn't boo.

If you or someone you know is struggling with depression, please reach out. In Hong Kong, the Samaritans hotline is 2896 0000. In the US, call or text 988.

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