THE STORY – A debt-ridden grandson travels to Thailand to find the grandfather he believes abandoned their family, hoping the man behind years of qiaopi letters and remittances can help pay his debts. Instead, he uncovers a lifelong act of love and sacrifice.
THE CAST – Li Sitong, Wang Yantong, Wu Shaoqing, Zheng Runqi & Wang Xiaohui
THE TEAM – Lan Hongchun (Director/Writer), Zheng Xuanxuan & Yang Leng (Writers)
THE RUNNING TIME – 118 Minutes
For many of us in the West, the Chinese film box office is daunting, with a mix of Hollywood blockbusters, homegrown historical spectacles, and colorful animated films regularly topping the charts. So it’s comforting to know that there’s not only a vibrant indie filmmaking scene, but also that even the tiniest projects can occasionally break through to a wider audience through word of mouth. One such discovery happened this year, in fact, with the romantic drama “Dear You,” which has become an “Obsession“-sized success, earning nearly $300 million in China alone on a $2 million budget.
“Dear You” is the final film in director Lan Hongchun’s “Teochew Trilogy” and the first to be released in the U.S. His films (2018’s “Proud of Me” & 2022’s “Back to Love” complete the trilogy) are shot in the rarely heard Teochew dialect and feature non-professional actors in significant roles to lend further authenticity to his narratives. Each film is a tribute of sorts to family members; if “Proud of Me” honors fathers and “Back to Love” mothers, “Dear You” is a love letter to the steadfast devotion of grandmothers, which may be one reason why Chinese audiences have responded so strongly to the film.
Lan (and his fellow co-writers Zheng Xuanxuan & Yang Leng) have structured their narrative into two distinct timelines. The first takes place in the modern day, as the debt-ridden Xiaowei (Zheng Runqi) sets out for Thailand, where he believes his rich grandfather, Den Bhagseng, has made a small fortune that Xiaowei wants to tap into. However, back in China, his grandmother, Sogriu (Wu Shaoqing), has made it clear that she wants nothing to do with Den Bhagseng. Years ago, he fled to Thailand to find a better-paying job, and through the qiaopi (remittance letters) he has sent her over the years, Sogriu believes he has remarried and started a new family. When Xiaowei arrives in Bangkok, however, he unearths his family’s history that tells a very different story.
The events surrounding that family secret began in 1950, when the newly arrived Den Bhagseng (Wang Yantong) settled into a Bangkok hostel run by the owner’s strict daughter, Lamgi (Li Sitong). Encouraged by a teacher friend, Bhagseng sets up a classroom for reading and writing, a class that Lamgi eventually joins. Bhagseng and Lamgi become friends but never marry, but their bond lasts until Bhagseng dies in 1960. Though Xiaowei is momentarily distraught that his potential sugar daddy is deceased, he is intrigued by the dozens of letters sent to his grandmother that Bhagseng presumably mailed long after his death. How could that possibly happen, and, more importantly, what does this mean for his family?
While “Dear You” is first and foremost a moving multi-generational family saga, what Lan has woven into it is a historical context that puts in deeply human terms the effects of the Chinese diaspora: the need for Chinese men to move away from home to Southeast Asia so that they could better provide for their families. The risky sacrifice Bhagseng makes for his family, however, is well-intended but creates serious ramifications for those closest to him, leading to misunderstandings that are only resolved decades later.
Despite the film’s relatively minuscule budget, Lan has put together an impressive-looking historical drama, helped by both Hai Tao & Zhou Zemin’s cinematography and the film’s golden-hued lighting design. Most impressive, perhaps, is the lived-in look of Wang Zichao’s production design, which, on a shoestring, does much to define each character’s daily existence.
Lan’s other big gamble – his use of non-professional actors – pays off handsomely as their comfort with the Teochew dialect makes so many of the film’s interactions feel comfortably authentic. His biggest risk – casting 22-year-old finance student Li Sitong in the pivotal role of Lamgi – is a triumph, despite Li having no acting experience before this film. The emotional expressiveness that she brings to the role makes her character’s climactic meeting in the film’s final act land that much harder.
Where the film does fall, however, is in managing the potent emotions that it evokes. At times, Lan flirts dangerously with overwrought melodrama in his third act. Still, it’s the film’s treacly music score by Wu Zehua that pushes it over the line in manipulating the audience. It’s as if the music cues are strategically placed, telling us this is the moment when we’re supposed to cry, which only undermines Lan’s depiction of the film’s most emotional moments.
That aside, with “Dear You,” Lan provides a moving and often surprising window into Teochew culture and history through the life of an often-dysfunctional but loving family. It’s an approach that has touched audiences all over China and is poised to do so here as well
