From the moment I saw the photo on the wall in the grandmother's house in The Farewell, I was overwhelmed with emotion. Every detail, every line of dialogue felt so real and hit so close to home.
"Is China better or is America better?"
This question recurs throughout the movie, posed by a curious hotel staff member to Billi, the protagonist. Yet, its implications reach far beyond a simple geographical comparison.
This question resonates deeply with me as it reflects the cultural divergence and personal choices experienced by those living between two cultures. Like Billi, I find myself torn between my Chinese heritage and my transition into the American culture. The reality, however, is that these cultures shouldn't be compared. Each has its unique strengths and weaknesses, joys and sorrows, traditions, and quirks.
The Farewell beautifully captures the subtleties of Chinese culture and lifestyle. The film's authenticity is striking, from the photos in the grandmother's house to the rituals of tomb-sweeping. Many scenes echoed my own experiences. The childhood photos of Billi in her grandmother's house reminded me of the ones tucked under the glass top of the table in my grandparents' home. The black-and-white group photo of elders hanging in the bedroom mirrored the one at my grandmother's bedside.
I vividly remember the first time I left home in China. My grandmother stood quietly by the road, much like Billi's grandma, waving ceaselessly at the departing taxi and quietly wiping away tears. She would call me back to give me a red envelope, urging me to buy whatever I wanted.
The movie's theme of 'white lies' holds profound cultural significance. It's a practice I know well. When my mother was diagnosed with thyroid cancer and needed surgery, she insisted we tell my grandparents it was "just a benign tumor and surgery is just a precaution." Now, with my grandfather diagnosed with Alzheimer's, we comfort him like a child, rather than "showing a crying face all the time," as Billi's mother advises in the film. In Chinese culture, what might be seen as deception elsewhere is often an act of love, protection, and respect within the family.
Studying abroad for years has meant rare visits home, and time with family, especially the elders, is scarce due to various obligations. Towards the movie's end, Billi says, "I don't want to go back to New York. I want to stay and take care of Grandma." I've said similar things to my mother: "I don't want to go to school because I'm afraid that one day the elderly will leave. I want to spend more time with them."
But Billi didn't stay. Neither did I. Life goes on, and we continue living it the best way we know how. Our experiences and memories, regardless of where they were made, shape who we are. These memories will carry us forward with each other's hopes and blessings.
I am immensely grateful to Lulu Wang for presenting this authentic portrayal of a Chinese family to a global audience. The movie encapsulates this sentiment without exaggerating or diminishing either culture. It helps viewers understand that life in China or America isn't about being better or worse, but about being different. I hope films like this inspire people to appreciate their roots and the richness of diverse cultures.
If you're far from home, take a moment to pick up the phone and call. After all, home isn't just a place—it's a feeling that stays with us no matter where we are.