John Steinbeck once wrote, “To be alive at all is to have scars.” What happens to us does not disappear; we just learn to live with it. This is especially true of familial trauma, which significantly impacts the person we become. Premiered in Busan, Tom Lin‘s “Yen and Ai-Lee (2024)” is a monochromatic drama about confronting the wounds of our blood ties.
Yen and Ai-Lee is screening at Asian Pop Up Cinema
The story opens in Meinong with an intriguing prologue: a young woman (Hsia Kimi) on a bike, covered in blood, rides to the police station. Eight years later, this woman is released from prison for a crime that will be gradually revealed throughout the film. Her name is Yen, and she returns to her storekeeper mother’s (Yang Kuei-mei) new house after serving her time. Their relationship, scarred by a troubling family past, is overwhelmingly distant. A bond further complicated by her mother’s new partner, Ren (Sam Tseng), a violent delinquent after her earnings.
One day, Yen is urged by her father’s past lover to look after her half-brother Wei (I-Le Hsieh) for a month. Despite initially refusing, Yen eventually takes Wei to her former classmate Cheng’s house, hoping to convince him to let him stay. After her request gets rejected, Yen is once again forced to face her family’s traumatic past. Throughout the film, we’re introduced to Allie, or Ai-Lee, a young woman resembling Yen. Recently enrolled in an acting class, this doppelgαnger learns to open up and wash down her fears.
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While coming to terms with the past, Lin’s “Yen and Ai-Lee” is a bold take on living with the marks of a complicated family life. By doing so, the film tackles the difficulties and the oppressive weight of an unhealthy mother-daughter relationship with great sensibility.
The relationship is excellently depicted thanks to the powerful execution of Yang and Hsia, who show great chemistry and dedication to their characters’ complexities. Although Hsieh has a smaller presence on screen, his performance blends nicely with that of his adult peers. Nonetheless, all these performances combined give shape to an impressive family portrayal.
Indian cinematographer Kartik Vijay (who also worked on “Abang Adik“)’s black-and-white style stands out the most. It is a powerful means of navigating this story’s lingering, eerie, continuous feeling. At the same time, using black and white eases the visual experience, creating a balance between the horror and the tranquility that permeates the characters’ lives. Carefully edited, the narration does not leave space to breathe, as it constantly calls for attention thanks to its captivating writing.
Despite the raw and almost sinister approach, “Yen and Ai-Lee” leaves the audience with a hopeful aftertaste. No matter the atrocities you experienced, not all is lost: a new life can always commence. Perhaps you may not fully heal, but what is left will bring you up again into a new life chapter. Furthermore, the film’s forte also lies in its portrayal of domestic violence, as the characters are not defined by the cruelty they’re exposed to and how combative they are towards it. Not only that, but Lin’s drama presents, in fact, an appealing outlook on trauma: its violence is not the focus, but rather its impact and influence on those who have experienced it.
“Yen and Ai-Lee” is an impressive project tackling the significance of mother-daughter relationships and family trauma. With a poignant perspective, this black-and-white drama is an engulfing experience where emotions are sharply and boldly confronted. What comes back to haunt us will not succumb to family nostalgia.
