THE STORY – A woman is forced to decide the fate of her recently deceased daughter’s embryo as she battles with her pursuit of independence.
THE CAST – Sylvia Chang, Karena Ka-Yan Lam, Eugenie Liu, Alannah Ong & Winston Chao
THE TEAM – Huang Xi (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 126 Minutes
Grief and the process of grieving itself may be one of the most consistently depicted feelings in film (and understandably so). Many filmmakers find the medium a potent way to express or convey emotions they have experienced at some point in their lives. Whether someone is grieving a relationship, a life once had, or the passing of someone dear to them, it’s a tangible expression that any audience member can feel. Lucky for filmmaker Huang Xi, his sophomore feature “Daughter’s Daughter” is a film that understands that feeling on a fundamental level, and while his sophomore outing retreads frequently explored territory, by the film’s credits, you can already feel it sitting with you.
“Daughter’s Daughter” puts its protagonist, Aixia Jin (Sylvia Chang), in an unthinkable position, as Jin is a woman who has possibly achieved what she’s searched for her whole life: independence. Her elderly mother, suffering from dementia (Alannah Ong), is in a retirement home, Jin is divorced, and her daughter Fan Zuer (Eugenie Liu) is off in New York with her partner, attempting to have a child through IVF trials. After a tragic accident, Jin must return to New York from Taipei not only to pick up the pieces of Fan Zuer’s IVF trials but also to come to grips with the life she so desperately wanted to avoid.
Huang’s unique perspective makes Jin’s story so distinctive compared to other stories following similar subject matter. We don’t often see female characters (let alone Tawainese women of a certain age) battle with the contemplations of exchanging their priorities for the needs of others. Without a doubt, this aspect is the most fascinating part of the screenplay for “Daughter’s Daughter.” Seeing Jin reckon with her identity amid tragedy allows a filmmaker like Huang to deepen further that connection with those who sympathize with Jin’s struggle. As for the rest of the screenplay, it’s not as unique; instead, it follows a far more traditional observation of grief as a whole. There’s a general haziness surrounding certain character dynamics, mainly the relationship between Jin and her estranged daughter Emma (Karena Ka-Yan Lam). Jin’s relationship with her mother is quite literally put to the backburner from the moment she goes to New York until the film’s final moments.
The occasional use of flashbacks in “Daughter’s Daughter” feels awkwardly interjected at times, especially as a dramatic consistency in terms of developing momentum. It’s a double-edged sword when each of these sequences works overtime to further a relationship we have little attachment to while also mirroring what Jin is feeling in the moment.
“Daughter’s Daughter” may stumble in its first act, but it steadily improves as it progresses. Huang’s direction, capturing New York in an intimate manner reminiscent of Celine Song’s “Past Lives,” injects a romanticism that is crucial to the film. Despite the conflicts between Huang’s direction and his writing, the film gradually gains strength, culminating in a third act that leaves the audience hopeful. It makes one wonder why the rest of the film couldn’t match this level of excellence.
It helps when a veteran actor like Chang anchors your film in what is a soul-stirring performance. Without an actor of the caliber like Chang, the film crumbles. Her work is astounding, delivering a performance that perfectly captures a woman trapped between frustration, confusion, and, at times, self-loathing. There’s a sequence towards the back half of “Daughter’s Daughter” where Jin and Emma are having a long-delayed conversation that is quite moving. The way Chang can easily emote a slew of emotions is astounding, and it’s also when Lam is at her best. Every other performance is solid, but they don’t leave an impact on the audience, and there’s little for them to do. Unfortunately, despite her character’s arc, there wasn’t more for Liu to do in the film. Audiences are supposed to take for verbatim how much stronger this relationship is compared to that of Jin and Emma, despite the opening sequence displaying something entirely different.
“Daughter’s Daughter” doesn’t fully land the plane, but the high note on which it ends makes you want to forget a great deal of the film’s misgivings. Ultimately, it truly comes down to how easily you can be moved by a film because, with Chang’s work and the subject matter alone, plenty of viewers will be moved by “Daughter’s Daughter.”
