By Jilliean Sioson
“How can I be ashamed of you? I am so proud. But sometimes it’s a little hard”.
– Chungsing, Chris’ Mother.
Dìdi (2024) follows American-born, Taiwanese boy Chris Wang and his last summer break as a middle schooler, set in the 2000’s- the era of MySpace, YouTube, and Superbad. Operating as a coming-of-age film, we skate with Chris as he navigates through evolving and girl-boy friendships, awkward romantic experiences, his desire to fit in, his desire to distinguish himself from familial bonds, all while slowly discovering his passion for filmmaking.
Writer and director Sean Wang’s strength lies in his ability to wholly capture teenage awkwardness and the angst. This is clear through his direction of actor Izaac Wang who depicts Chris with subtlety and suppressed restraint. Most of his inner desires and responses are evoked through blank stares, silence, or just flat-out uninhibited, over-sharing till he realises he has jeopardised his social standing. The cognitive dissonance between Chris’ screaming fights with his sister all while stealing his sister’s hoodie to wear on his first date was quite notable. He spins lies and antagonises his mother to gain approval from cooler, older boys, yet backfires because the same boys disapprove of his disrespect towards his mother. All play a part in capturing a nuanced, ironic, and layered character. Wang treats his teenage characters with respect and agency despite the clear naivety and immaturity.
And though I can definitely sit here writing paragraphs about each and every element that touched me and made me reflect on my youth, there is one character that shined in the background.
Sean Wang’s secret weapon in this reflective exercise is the empathy and honour he shows towards Chungsing, Chris’ mother, and to an extent all mothers, primarily Asian-immigrant ones. Much like Izaac, Joan Cheng skilfully taps into the docile and subtle nature of her character, finding depth and voice in her subtlety and gentleness of actions and speech- evoking a sense of melancholy, yearning and maturity.
It’s very much established that apart from his love-hate, yearning-pushing relationship with his older sister Vivienne, Chris’ complicated relationship with his mum, who though is seen as an antagonistic force in Chris’ journey towards independence, shares some heart-breaking parallels with Chris. Hence, why the quote that stood out to me the most is the one at the start of this review.
It reminded me of Bo Burnham’s 2018 coming of age dramedy 8th Grade, which also depicted the cringey and anxiety-inducing dealings of adolescence but told through a girl’s nuanced perspective. It also shares the empathetic and emotionally brutal likeness of 2022 film Aftersun by Charlotte Wells, which unearths the mental struggles of being an individual and reconciling that with fatherhood. All films explore the peculiar relationship between a single parent and kid of the opposite gender along with the joys and struggles it ensues.
A talented but failed artist herself, Chungsing sacrifices her pursuit of a career in art in order to raise her two children on top of an absent husband and a nagging, resentful mother-in-law. The depiction of Chungsing diverges from the typical American-Asian tiger-mom that we often see in these types of films. She scolds Chris and Vivienne but does so gently. She scolds not as an authority figure (which Nai Nai disapproves) but as a concerned parent that hates to see her children fight. She gladly encourages Chris’ pursuit of film but also feels the pressure when another mum brags about her kid who is more academically successful. She finds child-like joy when Chris’s older friends compliment the colours of her paintings. She worries about Chris but doesn’t want to push. And what does she do when Chris is sad? She farts. She gets angry but holds back, knowing that Chris is probably also going through it, just like her. She yearns for a possible future where she can pursue her passions yet is very much proud of her kids and the possibilities now open to them brought by her sacrifice.
Dìdi felt as if Sean Wang had gone to therapy. That’s it. This film takes you to therapy. At its core, and at the core of Chris’ journey for self-discovery, is a family drama. A family that clashes with each other and yet, deep down, recognizes that they are the most important people in each other’s lives. The main Wang family share the same goal of individuality however, in different stages of their lives; Chris about to start high school, Vivienne who is off to college, and Chungsing who wants her art to be recognised by an art guild.
Dìdi’s goal is not to resolve anything nor is a self-help book into adolescence or parent-child relationships- nor is it a crash course Youtube video on how to make films. Rather, it prompts its audience to understand. Our individual identity, how we fit in with each other and every aspect of our lives, are ever evolving and tied. It’s a series of contradictions, compromises, whereby two things can exist at the same time- weariness as well as joy, yearning as well as satisfaction. Our actions have consequences, and life doesn’t always turn out the way we plan, but we can take ownership and pride over it, whilst remembering to show ourselves a bit of grace. When this occurs; when we grasp this, there is respite, empathy, self-discovery, hope and room for growth.
In some respects, not only does Chris grow up and learn about himself, but so does Chungsing. The parallels between mother and son are sweet and timely, especially in an era where first/second generation immigrant children have grown up and realize that their parents also had hopes and dreams that they had to let go of and have had to learn and navigate through a new country and culture, much like teenagehood.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the Chungsings out there, and all mother-like figures the same. And to all the Chris’s out there- go hug your mother.
