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Friday, 15 April 2016

Lilting (2014)

This is a lovely little film which most movie-goers will never have the opportunity to see. Alternatively sad, funny, bittersweet, maudlin, uplifting, and heart-breaking, it riffs on how two very different people who deeply loved the same person cope with their devastation on his death.

Pei-Pei Cheng, a veteran Hong Kong actress, gives a remarkable performance as a Cambodian-Chinese widow Junn living in Britain for many years, but never adapting to the new culture. The focus of her life since her (from the sound of it wastrel) husband's death has been her only son Kai, who has resolutely coped with all the practicalities for her; she has never bothered to learn English, despite being proficient in various Chinese dialects. Kai is gay and has recently moved in with his boyfriend Richard; reluctantly he has 'parked' his mother in an old-folks home which she hates, since he can not bring himself to 'come out' to the hidebound lady. He plans to finally bite the bullet and confess all, so that she can move in with them, when he is killed by a drunken driver.

Richard is played by the very able actor Ben Whishaw (himself gay), who first entered my radar in 2006's "Perfume" (a wonderful film) and who is now a quirky Q in the Bond franchise. Richard wants to get closer to Junn, not so much as in trying to take Kai's place in her affections, but as a way of keeping his love for his dead lover alive. He hires a Mandarin-speaking interpreter (Naomi Christie) to help bridge the communication gap between them, but is wary about being overly open about his real relationship with Kai, whom he initially describes as his 'best friend'. Whether Junn was actually aware of her son's sexuality but managed to deny it is less apparent than her jealousy of Richard's closeness to her son. Had Kai lived and had the three of them found the strength to accept the realities of their existence, Junn might have found herself with two sons to love. 

Their interpreted 'conversations' don't really succeed in their finding common ground; we hear the anger in Junn's voice when it escapes from her musical Mandarin lilt and the frustration in Richard's when he can not break through to her. In desperation he blurts out the truth of his relationship with Kai. Her final words are that memories are all that she has and must be kept alive 'to comfort me in my loneliness or they will fade like the face of my (dead) husband'. They both grieve for the person they loved best but seem unlikely to ever bridge the chasm between them, despite an uplifting final scene.

The first feature film from Cambodian-born, British-based director Hong Khaou, it is apparently based on a two-hander French play. Wonderfully photographed by ace cinematographer Christopher Doyle, the movie has a lighter touch than the above capsule may imply. Junn has an admirer at the home, Alan, played by sitcom comic stalwart Peter Bowles. He's really just a dirty old man yearning for some slap and tickle, but initially Junn is flattered by his attentions. Only when they borrow the interpreter for some more intimate confessions does it emerge that he thinks her breath reeks of garlic and she thinks he smells of urine! She now wants to avoid the amorous old coot, but Richard encourages her to give him a second chance, as he hopes she will give him as well.

Finally a word or two about the remarkable Pei-Pei. I saw her quite recently in the martial arts classic "Come Drink with Me" (1966), where as a 20-year old she played Golden Swallow (disguised as a man) who is out to rescue an official -- actually her brother kidnapped by thugs -- and she acquits herself memorably as an action heroine. She can also be seen in "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" (2000). However neither of these prepared me for her dignified, grief-stricken turn as Junn.  
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