In a nod to the series' working-class roots, several episodes zero in on the woes of the underprivileged. Lion's Head Dumpling, which will launch the series on Sunday, focuses on a single-parent street sweeper (played by pop singer Eason Chan Yik-shan) whose daily struggles are complicated by the return of his immobilised father (Wu Ma). In another episode, a family faces the uncertainty of impending relocation from the soon-to-be-demolished Shek Kip Mei Estate.

Those expecting a reprise of the sharp social criticism that marked Lion Rock in the 1970s, however, may be disappointed. The pioneering series - directed by leading lights of Hong Kong's realist New Wave cinema such as Ann Hui On-wah, Lawrence Ah Mon and Allen Fong Yuk-ping - helped expose the social schisms of the day. As they saw it, the city was beset by problems such as drug addiction, poverty and the dispersal of close-knit communities - all overseen by uncaring bureaucrats. Although the latest series is nearer to the grassroots than the previous instalments of 1994, those exposes of the city's dark underbelly are missing.

'People do see Lion Rock as overtly political because directors like Ann [Hui] came up with pieces like Bridge [about the decision to tear down a footbridge connecting a squatter district to the outside world],' says Wong. 'Back then, the common people had no way to air their grievances and directors would take it upon themselves to do exactly that. I remember the government making critical noises, asking why pieces like The Song of Yuen Chau Tsai [about poverty and drug addiction in a Tai Po community] would expose such a dark side of society.'

The emergence of a form of democracy has removed the need for RTHK programmes to spotlight public concerns. 'Nowadays, you have the political parties complaining about social injustice, talking for the people. We no longer have to do that through drama,' says Wong. 'What we see as more of a critical issue is the demise of interpersonal relationships. You see family members drifting apart - the days are gone when families sit together for dinner and television.'

The emphasis on domestic turmoil and generational gaps is evident from many of this year's offerings. In His First E-mail, for example, a busy film producer (Eric Tsang Chi-wai stars and directs) tries to reconnect with his son (played by real-life son Derek) through the electronic gadgets the younger generation is more comfortable with. In Night Cat, an unemployed musician (TV actor Yuen Tak-cheung), is forced to play in a funeral parlour after being bankrupted by bad stock investments. The move drives a wedge between him and his girlfriend (Macy Chan Mei-sze) and father (Yuen's real-life father, Cantonese opera virtuoso Yuen Siu-fai).

According to Chan Man-yee, director of Lion's Head Dumpling, the common denominator among fellow filmmakers is a 'return to emotions' after the political and social upheaval in Hong Kong over the past few years. 'In the 1990s and before that, we were more focused on another 'return' - the return to Chinese sovereignty in 1997,' says Chan, who directed a 1994 episode about anxiety among local intellectuals about the handover.

Lion's Head Dumpling, she says, is her attempt to go back to basics by examining the issues within a dysfunctional family. 'What I want to say is that whatever changes we experience, in the end we look for emotional attachment with people we feel close to.'

Although the disintegration of traditional family bonds has provided screenwriters with a wealth of inspiration, it also threatens to undermine how Lion Rock will be received. Longer working hours and the proliferation of entertainment choices have ended television's pivotal role within households. As recently as the 80s, the screening slot at 7pm on Sundays was a guarantee of a large viewership. Today, it's doubtful whether many would even be home. That there are scores of channels from which to choose - a luxury limited to a few even in the 90s - further undercuts the viewer base for Lion Rock.

The availability of online streaming allows enthusiasts to watch the series any time on their computers, but producers have been forced to create what Wong calls 'talking points' - such as pairing fathers with their real-life sons in the same episode, or by recruiting major stars and directors who rarely work on small-screen productions. 'We won't want to put pressure on the directors or to force them to think that they have to fulfil certain requirements,' says Wong, referring to the headline-grabbing measures.

Still, the device has worked. The launch of Lion Rock was widely reported by the local press, with much emphasis on Eason Chan's willingness to work in a Yau Ma Tei rubbish dump.

The participation of award-winning veterans such as Derek Yee (best director and screenplay at last year's Hong Kong Film Awards) and Aubrey Lam (Yee's rival for the best screenplay honour) has surely given Lion Rock a higher profile and diversity of style. According to Wong, it's a win-win situation for RTHK and commercial filmmakers: 'Our colleagues can have a look at how people outside would tackle the job and receive fresh impetus, while [commercial directors] get to make something they wouldn't be able to get financial backing for outside,' says Wong.

Lam and Yee agree. 'It's just like doing homework back in my university days,' says Lam, referring to the lack of commercial constraint on her screenwriting. Her contribution to the series, Allowance, is a subtle piece about the reconciliation between an ageing woman and her estranged daughter, who has long resented her mother favouring her no-good brother. Lam says the message is how money has become the yardstick by which we gauge ties with others - a notion that also inspired her RTHK adventure.

Yee, meanwhile, counts himself as the more fortunate partner in the RTHK project. A keen diver, he realised a long-time wish to film underwater at the Man Yee Reservoir with A Village Under Water. The story involves a young man's mission to recover his grandmother's jade bracelet, which had been left behind when her house was submerged by the reservoir.

Yee, who appeared in one of Elizabeth Wong's RTHK productions when he was an actor, saw the project as liberating. 'There's no burden to bear and no box office projections to care for - what more can you want?'

He says he would never have received permission to shoot in the reservoir for a profit-making vehicle. 'The RTHK crew go about their work with as much dedication as people in the commercial sector. A lot of people I worked with [on this production] spent more time than they were paid for. There's less of the stink of money - and it makes the job fun.'