Every time someone asks me to describe The Farewell, the only way I can is telling them that it’s the perfect combination of heartbreaking and heartwarming. Despite the contradictory nature of this sentence, for me, it is the ideal description for the film based on a true lie as The Farewell provides an oddly familiar tale exploring the complexities within the immigrant family in our modern world.
For her sophomore feature, director Lulu Wang recreates her 2016 autobiographical episode of This American Life for the big screen. It follows Billi (Awkwafina), a Chinese American woman living in New York who defies the typical Chinese familial expectations of marrying, pursuing a stable job, and hiding emotions. One day, Billi and her family learn that their grandma, Nai Nai, has cancer. However, instead of confronting the realities of the diagnosis and telling Nai Nai that she has cancer, Billi’s family decides to throw a fake wedding instead, to “celebrate” Nai Nai’s life while giving Billi and her family one last chance to say their goodbyes. What starts out as a “good lie” slowly snowballs into an emotionally complex and raw journey many first/second generation immigrants find themselves facing when trying to help a family they often feel so different from.
Despite the specificity of the events of this film, there is an odd familiarity and universality that The Farewell manages to achieve. Through its crisp screenplay and beautiful characterizations of her family members, it provides a sense of belonging and intimacy, making it easy to find yourself thinking that the on-screen family is your own. These characters are not one-note. They all share some of the pain and complications that come with being part of an immigrant family. Through her script (a mixture of Mandarin and English), Wang wonderfully converts the unspeakable separation and barrier within the family that no one in the family wants to acknowledge on screen. Through silences, forced awkwardness, and still camera shots, we understand not only what is lost in translation within Billi’s own family, both literally and metaphorically, but also that the only thing connecting them is their grandma’s illness. It is awkward and painful, yet the feeling is all too relatable.
Despite the extreme sentimentality often surrounded by familial tales, Wang strays from cliche and melodramatic beats, maintaining herself in the reality of the situation at hand. Emotion and sentimentality only go so far in the often traditional Chinese family. Wang understands that as she not only restrains the tone of the film from becoming too overbearing, but also provides a glimpse of the cultural specificity of stoicism in China through the content and conversations she chooses to put on display. However, Wang is not here to ostracize this stoic culture, but rather to show the complications of the idea of family through Billi’s family, which focuses on the ideals of being centered in one area but has splintered off, rejecting the togetherness that is used to maintain the lie they want to keep. Wang analyzes the guilt of not being there for your family gracefully, not blaming anyone in her family for the situation at hand or transforming the film into a dramatic East v. West showdown, but instead turning The Farewell into an introspection of oneself, questioning what she (or Billi) should be doing about this feeling of generational and familial distance.
However, as much as the screenplay is tight and entertaining, Lulu Wang executes a brilliant technique through the film as well. As the film builds towards its climax, Wang does not allow the fast-paced nature of the culmination of the lie to deter her, often opting to use lingering wide shots to encapsulate it, its subtext, and its ever-growing effects on Billi and her family. Throughout the film, it feels as if we are being granted intimate glimpses of individual family members’ break downs, adding a sense of realism culminating in a more hard-hitting emotional punch that leads to a distinct and soul-crushing series of sequences that end the film.
The Farewell gives you a lot to ponder on. Whether it be about the hyper-speed rise of the Chinese landscape, the idea of death and what makes it worse, the actual act of death, or the thought of it, at its core, this film is about the struggle of living in two worlds and the veils we enact to hide that struggle. Even the title of the film suggests that with the Chinese title being 别 告诉她 — literally translating to Don’t Tell Her —and the English being The Farewell. It is about trying to understand the push/pull of being in between two cultures (which often feel like two different worlds) and the individualized guilt that mounts when you are thousands of miles away from the ones you love.
There is a reason films like The Farewell need to be made. Growing up, Chinese culture was something I wanted to reject so badly because I felt isolated since no one “got it.” Today, I feel as if I need to make up for the years of rejection I had towards Chinese culture so I can situate myself in both of these worlds “properly”. While both are flawed ways of thinking, seeing films like The Farewell remind me that I am not alone in my flaws and feelings, and that there are many first/second-generation immigrants that feel my isolation and questioning of home. The Farewell is a must-see for anyone who has felt that isolation, and although it does not answer all the questions of what it feels like to be so far away from your family, it provides a loving glimpse that reminds us of the often universality of our stories. Now, I’m going to call my grandma, and hopefully not get berated for my horrible Chinese.
4.5/5 STARS