by SaraKay Smullens, MSW, LCSW, DCSW, CGP, CFLE, BCD
(Please note: This review contains spoilers.)
Have you heard it said that grandparents and grandchildren get along exceedingly well because they have a common enemy (attributed to comedian Sam Levenson)? Or that grandparents offer their grandchildren “emotional money in the bank” (attributed to psychologist Alice Ginott)? Each explanation speaks to the poignant, sweet, humorous, delightful soul of Lulu Wang’s feature film, The Farewell, which opened to deserved raves at this year’s Sundance Film Festival. The Farewell depicts its author’s longing to become a writer and her sustaining relationship with her grandmother; it has been described by writer and director Wang as a true story “based on an actual lie.”
In the early moments of the film, we witness two events - a CT scan of the totally delightful Nai Nai (“Grandma”), who lives in Changchun in northeastern China (played to perfection by Zhao Shuzhen) reveals that she has a short time to live. And we witness a phone call between Nai Nai and her granddaughter, Billi, a young Chinese-American woman (Awkwafina), who lives in New York City, as they speak Mandarin on the telephone, each in a totally different world, a separation which has no impact on their love, devotion, and deeply-routed concern for each other. Although never told, Nai Nai senses that her granddaughter is struggling and lonely, and Billi misses her deeply. Their troubled phone connection foreshadows difficulty each faces.
Chinese law does not insist that Nai Nai know her diagnosis. Her devoted sister, Little Nai Nai (Lu Hong), notifies the family of the news, which Nai Nai's family decides not to tell her. In order that the family have a reason to unite in the city of their birth in a fitting happy farewell and tribute to Nai Nai, they lie – telling her that the reason for their return is to celebrate the wedding of a grandson Hao Hao (Han Chen), to the extremely shy Aiko (Aoi Mizuhara), his Japanese fiancée, whom he has known for three months. I doubt you will ever encounter a more baffled or confused groom or bride.
Twenty-five years before this story begins, when Billi is six, her family moves from China in pursuit of a better life, offering them more economic opportunity and more educational opportunity for their daughter. Her parents, Haiyan (Nai Nai’s son) and Jain (played with excellence by Tzi Ma and Diana Lin), and Billie speak English when together, but the values of Haiyan and Jain are rooted in their past, while Billi’s are rooted in the present. Billi lives independently, and before our eyes, we see her face what anyone whose dreams seem thwarted will well understand. We feel her isolation and loneliness, a loneliness eased by her grandmother’s voice and their connection.
You will remember Awkwafina from her delightful, memorable performance in the 2018 Crazy Rich Asians, but before this, she gained recognition as a rapper comfortable with titillating videos.
Now, transformed as Billi, we see Awkwafina ignore her parents’ wishes that she not come to Changchun city with them – they fear her liberal ideas, devotion to individuality, and emotional responses will distress her grandmother, whom they are determined to shield from awareness of her impending death. Billi’s unfamiliarity with her native land (she is faced with her limited facility in Mandarin – although her grandmother treats it as perfect) is part of the film’s genius, as the film lives the truth: You cannot go home again. Home as a return to the past is over.
Yes, the film addresses the challenges of one from two cultures with humor and poignancy. (Do not miss one second of the visit to the grave of Nai Nai’s deceased husband.) But it also speaks to the frustration so common during family gatherings (think Thanksgiving family dinners!), where clashes and confusion about differing coping mechanisms, opinions, hopes, and longed-for directions can play havoc. In this way, it is a perfect film for those in our social work profession, who face these challenges with our clients constantly, and of course, face them within ourselves.
The Farewell also urges us to question our established cultural beliefs. If you had a life-threatening illness, would you find comfort in being protected from the truth by your loved ones? Or perhaps more accurately, being able to pretend you did not know? If you learned that a loved one suffers from a life-threatening illness, would some family members cope more easily not knowing? Or being protected from speaking about it? Do you have clients who would cope more easily in this way?
Above all, The Farewell illuminates precious gifts of a loving, devoted grandparent. Nai Nai’s family’s determination to carry her emotional burden provides a delightful, positive period of time with a cherished granddaughter during a crucial period in her life. By artfully shielding Billi from parental disapproval, Nai Nai helps her granddaughter to face an enormous cultural gap with confidence. Her only goal — overflowing with generosity — is to strengthen Billi’s belief in herself and determination to pursue her dreams in a world foreign to her grandmother. Mission surely accomplished!
SaraKay Smullens, MSW, LCSW, DCSW, CGP, CFLE, BCD, whose private and pro bono clinical social work practice is in Philadelphia, is a certified group psychotherapist and family life educator. She is a recipient of the Lifetime Achievement Award (2004) and the Social Worker of the Year (2018) from the Pennsylvania chapter of NASW, and the 2013 NASW Media Award for Best Article. In 2018, she was one of five graduates of the University of Pennsylvania School of Social Policy and Practice selected for the school's inaugural Hall of Fame. SaraKay is the author of Whoever Said Life Is Fair, Setting YourSelf Free, and Burnout and Self-Care in Social Work. Her writing has been published in peer-reviewed journals, newspapers, and blogs. SaraKay's professional life continues to be devoted to highlighting destructive societal forces through communication, advocacy and activism. Read more about her work at SaraKaySmullens.com.
