Dìdi (弟弟)

It's not a controversial statement to point out how much Hollywood depends on nostalgia. In many ways, it's been the lifeblood of the industry in recent years. The most commonly cited offenders are legacyquels, which are often sequels in name only, having been made so long after the original faded from our collective memories that the only original cast members can only briefly appear as a parent or mentor. Most egregious, though, are the properties that reach back into your childhood to either lift characters for cameos or to simply adapt a toy you once loved. Both can be done well, as proven by the cameos in Deadpool & Wolverine and the entirety of Barbie. But all lean heavily on the excitement of recognition to short-circuit your attention to the broader work.

That being said, nostalgia isn't inherently negative: it's a tool. In the hands of a skilled practitioner, it can be used to disarm, to comfort you such that it won't raise your defenses when the story turns out to be more challenging. That is, instead of the common experience of nostalgia being used cynically, it can be used to get around your own cynicism about the director's intent. Of course, that does mean its success will depend to some degree on how much the time and place and characters hit you. If the story's told well enough, however, your empathy will take over and bridge the gap.

That Chris Wang (Izaac Wang) is merely four years younger than me means his childhood mirrors my own in some major ways. The various sound effects of the 00s internet induce a visceral reaction, as do flashing minimized windows, camel cased usernames full of Xs and numbers and rude jokes, and Facebook's early prompt of "What are you doing right now?" leading to a collection of "Austin is ____" statuses. Because the movie really has a marvelous sense of its own era. From the design of the popular websites to clothing to music and more, it all feels incredibly of the aughts. The kids all feel of that period, with the verbal ticks and slang you'd expect. Director Sean Wang doesn't sand it down at all, either: their primary insult is calling each other "gay" and "fag", not even considering that what they're saying might be homophobic, despite the obvious ugly implications from an outside viewpoint. The technology is on point, too. Chris is messing around with making skate videos on his handheld camcorder, all shown to the audience as chunky, stuttering video which is 480p at best.

The presence of social media in our lives was quite different then, but it still had the power to produce strong feelings of isolation and anxiety through the tactical usage of your MySpace Top 8 and various mind games in your AIM profile and away message. Being a teenager has long been a somewhat lonely prospect, and the Information Age has helped intensify that experience, thrusting in your face the great times you (supposedly) missed out on as you sit in your room at home.

It's mid 2008, the summer before Chris enters high school, one of the most volatile times in the lives of many. Shifting friends as your interests and locations diverge. Older siblings heading off to college. To say nothing of the internal storm that is adolescence, and the way it manifests in personal interactions which exert tremendous pressure to be someone other than yourself. Pressure to know everything, to kiss girls, and to just be "cool". Additionally, Chris is struggling with his identity as a first-generation Taiwanese American. We watch him become self-conscious of it in real time while hanging out with his crush Madi (Macaela Parker) and her friend, who titter at his nickname "Wang Wang". Yet, he can't escape it: his mother Chungsing (Joan Chen) signs him up for PSAT test prep along with a handful of other Asian students held by a local parent, and insists on talking about him and his sister Vivian (Shirley Chen) as markers of her own success, prompting him to mutter "so Asian...".

What he doesn't register, and part of what elevates this story, is that his mother is facing her own solitary battle which refelcts his own. His Nai Nai (Chang Li Hua) is the mother of his father, who's back in Taiwan sending money over such that his family can get their piece of the storied American Dream. The older woman is constantly at Chungsing's throat, nagging her and criticizing her parenting, telling her she's not worthy of her son and she's raised terrible children and so on. It seems endless the ways she has to belittle her daughter-in-law. Meanwhile, Chungsing also has to deal with her two children behaving exactly as you'd expect teen-aged siblings to behave, constantly bickering and tormenting and insulting each other, which only incites more chastising from her mother-in-law. The source of the clash is clearly Chungsing trying to break some of the cycles of parenting which she endured, and allow her children to become their own people, rather than tightly controlling their every move. But she does so without the support of friends or family or her children. She's doing all she can to craft a home for them to be their best selves. It's exhausting, and garners little appreciation, yet she will fight tooth and nail to continue doing so.

Therein lies the brilliance of Sean Wang's debut feature. Despite telling the semi-autobiographical story through the eyes of Chris (a fictionalized version of himself), the setting and people he crafts are so rich and deep that you truly feel that others are living out their own story on the fringes. Madi is meeting other boys. Vivian is struck by what it means to be leaving for UCSD in a mere ten days, and adjusts her actions accordingly. Fahad (Raul Dial) finds a new group, no longer exclusively hanging out with Chris and crew. These are characters whose lives don't stop when the camera turns away. The world does not revolve around Chris, he's just living in it.

I don't want to give you the wrong impression: while it is a heavy movie, it is also full to the brim with joy. Chris and his friends have the kind of quick, needling rapport so common amongst boys of that age. They're constantly and playfully insulting each other, pushing each other out of their comfort zones for good and for ill, posturing and boasting and making up all sorts of stuff. Chris in particular is prone to misrepresenting himself in the pursuit of impressing his peers, which when combined with his natural awkwardness leads to some absolutely hilarious moments. I was laughing from start to finish, and it wasn't just me. Being one of just six people in attendance means I can say with confidence that at many moments, everyone in the theater was guffawing in unison (thinking of his E.T. impression nearly has me in stitches as I write this).

The only times it stopped was when the movie slowed down for its characters to strip away artifice and get at something real and True. Most notably Chungsing's devastating and beautiful moment at the climax of the film, which would alone be enough to earn her an acting nomination in a just world. Even the instant of stunned silence that comes over Vivian's face at the moment of confrontation between her and Chris was enough to make me tear up. In a case made almost exclusively of first time actors, somehow, no one felt artificial, no one felt like they were acting. Sure, the most complex and resonant lines were reserved for the most experienced actors, which is why Chris and Vivian get smaller character moments and Joan Chen delivers the knockout punch. But everyone else very admirably slid into their role in Chris's life, no matter how small.

At its core, this is a coming of age film, which means I'm predisposed to enjoy it, as you know. But even as these stories go, it's exceedingly messy. Not in its construction or execution: those are near flawless. Chris's experience, though, is far from the linear path towards personal growth so often portrayed. Instead, he stumbles around, groping in the dark, trying to find his way forward. And he does, but not without knocking a bunch of stuff off the shelves. The place he ends up in his sense of self, and as we watch it play through the final piece of the film, make it exceedingly clear that although not everything we just witnessed had an obvious consequence, it is now all a part of him and his experience. He will learn from it, or he won't, but he's a more complete person as a result. It's made him that much more suited to face the complication that is high school.