by Brian Hioe
語言:
English
Photo credit: Film Poster
YEN AND AI-LEE is a masterful film, in its depiction of patriarchy and its mother-daughter family drama.
The film begins with protagonist Yen getting out of jail, having spent eight years behind bars for murdering her abusive father. Others are sympathetic to her situation, such as her former classmate Cheng, now a food stall owner, though Yen still struggles with her lack of a sense of safety.
Yen also struggles to reconnect with her mother Ai-Lee, who owns a convenience store and is in a relationship with another man. Unfortunately, Ai-Lee’s new boyfriend seems to have similar abusive tendencies to Yen’s mother.
Yen’s life takes a turn when her deceased father’s former mistress, a woman the same age as her, abandons her son for Yen to raise. The child, Yen’s half-brother Xiao-wei, proves an uncomfortable reminder of their deceased father, sparking tensions between the mother and daughter. Though initially unwilling to care for the child, Yen eventually proves unwilling to abandon Xiao-wei either, not wanting him to experience similar suffering to her.
At the same time, the movie intersperses Yen’s life with segments of Yen taking acting classes at a community college, under the assumed name Ai-Lee—of course, her mother’s name. Though Yen having a different haircut makes it clear that this is set during a different time in Yen’s life, the film initially masks whether this is from Yen’s past or future.
If Yen and Ai-Lee has a complicated premise, with many moving parts, this is never to the movie’s weakness. There is very little of the movie that comes off as contrived or sudden, rather than film integrates its many elements together competently.
It is the acting that truly carries the film. Yang Kuei-mei and Kimi Hsia make an excellent mother and daughter, with scenes where the two argue showing that the two, in fact, are similar down to their style of speaking and mannerisms. Hsia’s turn as Yen is excellent, highlighting the contrast between the cold and distant Yen, as well as the persona she puts on when going by the name Ai-Lee.
Though the movie starts off with Yen, eventually it transitions perspectives to Ai-Lee. While Ai-Lee is not depicted as a character with as much depth as Yen, the complementary and parallel nature of the two narratives adds to and fleshes out the film. Though fundamentally humanistic in nature, the movie manages to be restrained about its message.
Otherwise, Yen and Ai-Lee has excellent technical merits. Shot entirely in black-and-white, the various settings that appear in the movie are nonetheless vivid and distinct. The bright community college is often juxtaposed to the darkness of Yen’s life surroundings. Similarly, as a film set in Meinong and Kaohsiung, the depiction of the two cities also adds to the film.
There have been many films in recent Taiwanese cinematic history dealing with an absent father–sometimes depicted as positively and others as negatively. Similarly, there have been many recent Taiwanese films dealing with relationships between a mother and daughter. But Yen and Ai-Lee is a standout among them. It should not be missed.