Three stars. Rated PG, for no particular reason
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.26.19
Is there such a thing as a “good” lie?
Or are they merely lies of convenience?
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| Billi (Awkwafina, center right), burdened by a secret she cannot reveal, has no appetite for the lavish meal prepared by her beloved grandmother (Shuzhen Zhao, center left) and great-aunt (Hong Lu, far left). |
Bear in mind, as well, that the answer depends on cultural origins and expectations.
Indie writer/director Lulu Wang addresses such complexities in her second feature film, The Farewell, which she cheekily admits — up front — is “based on an actual lie.” Her story’s core relationship is the strong bond between Chinese-born, U.S.-raised Billi (Awkwafina) and her grandmother, Nai-Nai (Shuzhen Zhao), who has spent her entire life in Changchun.
The introverted Billi, an aspiring New York writer, struggles to make ends meet; to her vexation, she still relies on her parents — Haiyan (Tzi Ma) and Jian (Diana Lin), who live nearby — for occasional meals, their washing machine, and similar small favors. Despite recalling little of China, there’s a suggestion that Billi feels displaced: a soul perhaps not fully at ease with either half of her identity.
She enjoys frequent phone chats with Nai-Nai, which is how the film opens: on a typical call punctuated by Billi’s curiosity over the background sounds supplementing her grandmother’s voice. It’s nothing, Nai-Nai insists, when in fact she sits amid the hustle, bustle and background PA announcements of a busy hospital, where she has gone for some tests. A lingering cold and cough.
The test results are shared not with Nai-Nai, but with her doting younger sister, Little Nai-Nai (Hong Lu). The news is grim: terminal cancer, with death likely imminent.
Little Nai-Nai — with full support from the rest of the family — chooses not to share this information with her sibling. Better, everybody feels, to let Nai-Nai enjoy her final days in blissful ignorance.
(Also — and here’s our first brush with the cultural element — because the Chinese believe that the mere word “cancer” causes one so afflicted to give up and die.)
Well, not quite everybody; Billi, after extracting the truth from her parents, is appalled.
Wanting to gather the far-flung family in China for a final reunion — but needing an excuse that won’t arouse Nai-Nai’s suspicions — Haiyan’s brother Haibin (Yongbo Jiang) and his wife Ling (Li Xiang) arrange an elaborate wedding for their son Hao Hao (Chen Han) and Aiko (Aoi Mizuhara), his (Japanese!) girlfriend of three short months (!!). Haiyan and Jian discourage Billi from attending, fearing that her inability to conceal emotion will let the cat out of the bag; Billi defies them and shows up anyway … much to Nai-Nai’s delight.
All this exposition takes place in the brief first act, after which we spend the bulk of this 98-minute film watching everybody cope — mostly silently — while we also wait for some sort of significant revelation. Will Billi blurt out the truth? Will Hao Hao survive his own wedding? Do he and Aiko even know each other, let alone want to get married?
Wang’s pacing isn’t merely slow; it’s lethargic. And the strained silences that increasingly pass between these characters is … well … a strain.
That said, the story’s best, most contemplative moments rely on the cultural imperatives that fuel this increasingly tense family dynamic. Billi’s struggle to accept the core falsehood finally prompts her Uncle Haibin to explain the rationale: The lie puts the emotional burden of the diagnosis on the family, rather than on Nai-Nai. It’s a collective (Chinese) approach that he acknowledges differs from Western culture’s focus on individual values.
The boisterous family gatherings — when everybody puts on a game face for Nai-Nai —always prompt a quiet chuckle, particularly given the degree to which they revolve around amazingly elaborate meals. (Chinese women must prepare and cook food all the time.)
Even here, though, it’s sometimes difficult to gauge Wang’s intent. Does she compose these tableaus with affection and candor, or does she play them for laughs? The wedding ceremony, when we finally reach it, is an eyebrow-raising display of alcohol-fueled excess, culminating in a scene that makes us wonder about Hao Hao’s emotional survival.
No answers are forthcoming, although that’s not necessarily a bad thing; real-world family dynamics never wrap up with the comfortable, bow-tied decisiveness of most movies.
Unfortunately, Awkwafina’s leaden, one-note performance is a distracting flaw: particularly since Billi is the story’s focus. The rapper-turned-actress clearly hopes to develop beyond the snarky, low-wattage supporting roles she played in Neighbors 2: Sorority Rising and Ocean’s 8, and more power to her. But her take on Billi rarely rises above sullen and/or morose; we keep waiting for her to wake up and (literally) come to the party.
Billi sparkles — minimally — only during a few playfully tart exchanges with Nai-Nai. Zhao and Awkwafina persuasively sell the grandmother/granddaughter bond, with the latter delivering a welcome half-smile every time Nai-Nai, with loving impatience, calls Billi a “stupid child.”
Lin and Awkwafina are equally good together, in a less comfortable mother/daughter dynamic that bespeaks long-simmering tension. Lin’s Lu Jian is defensive: quick to strike at Billi’s weak spots, which (of course) prompts the latter to respond in kind. Again, it’s a pattern many will recognize from their own family gatherings.
There’s certainly no shortage of poignant truth in Wang’s film, but — ultimately — it simply isn’t very compelling. She and cinematographer Anna Franquesa Solano spend far too much time holding on frozen, morose faces.
Alex Weston’s string- and choral-based score also is annoying: overloud, intrusive and frequently at odds with on-screen events.
And, as we reach the story’s conclusion, we’re left with an open question: Has Billi learned from this experience, or changed in any way? Wang’s final scene is ambiguous at best, and more likely unsatisfying.
Given Awkwafina’s presence and a deceptive publicity campaign that makes this film look like a heart-warming comedy, trusting filmgoers are likely to expect another Crazy Rich Asians. Don’t be fooled. While The Farewell does offer modest giggles, its unhurried approach and Chinese sensibilities are (literally) a world removed from last summer’s surprise comedy hit.
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