THE STORY – A recent immigrant and trophy wife from Hong Kong rediscovers her love of dance after her wealthy husband’s betrayal
THE CAST – Isabella Wei, Ming-Na Wen, Tzi Ma, Helen Dang, Russell Lee & Hugh Tran
THE TEAM – Mina Shum (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 90 Minutes
With the art of dance, there’s something powerful that takes hold of the person performing. A freedom courses through each movement as they lose themselves in the moment and the music. The body and mind become synchronized, a connection many feel is rarely aligned with one another. It’s the sensation that Isabella Wei’s Yin – the protagonist of “Whatcha Want” – has shut off from herself for longer than she can remember. Mina Shum’s latest feature, a film about rediscovering passion, aims to bring a fresh perspective to a familiar tale, but it can’t escape the tropes that make this type of outing a tedious watch.
Yin, who in the intro emphasizes her need to be moving constantly, certainly doesn’t abide by that now, as her life in Hong Kong has been uprooted. She and her affluent husband BT (Hugh Tran) are now expats in Vancouver, where she spends her days alone in the halls of a luxury apartment as a trophy wife. BT is never home because of work, leaving Yin to be entertained by long-distance calls with her mother back in Hong Kong. Her only physical interaction with others is either with her friend, Mary Yu, played by Ming-Na Wen, or her driver, Ming, played by Tzi Ma.
It’s a lonely lifestyle, clinging to the few blissful moments Yin has with BT, but even her brief conversations with him come off as regularly mandated meetings he needs to check off his list. Yin’s frustration only grows as she inadvertently catches on to his infidelity. Scared to leave, Yin slowly but surely finds solace in a local dance group, which reignites something inside of her that’s been long gone. Shun tries to channel Yin’s frustrations and the inevitable friction of these two lives colliding, yet its dramatic weight comes off as completely inert. Wei is left in the trenches, desperately trying to rise above the screenplay, mainly committing to the physical aspects of her work with the dance sequences. It’s sadly not enough as neither Wei nor the entirety of the younger members of the ensemble really give a performance that breaks the barrier of a television film.
It’s the veteran actors of “Whatcha Want” whose years of experience in their craft can bring any sense of life to some of the most stagnant writing. Wen delivers the only performance that effectively captures a character navigating strife. Mary Yu embodies what Yin could become if she settles for this lifestyle of affluence. Mary, who has been in the same position, looks the other way to maintain her family, her life, and her respect. Despite this, she carries a deep pit of regret that Wen conveys more often than not. She is also the only performer who keeps the underwhelming humor from coming across as bluntly awkward. Ma – an actor whose presence brings richness to whatever project he’s part of – is wasted playing a character who only pushes the plot forward every time he interjects.
Shum’s screenplay loses its distinctiveness almost instantly, as it suffers from the banal structure of one-note dramas that have come before it. Audiences struggle to find any reason to root for Yin’s dance journey as it’s so quickly rushed along with the arrival of her new potential paramour, Russell Lee’s Alex, another member of the dance squad. Their chemistry is nonexistent, along with any reason that this dynamic between the two should even warrant time from Shum’s attention. Shum’s direction also suffers, lacking any stylistic flair, especially within these extensive dance sequences that never convince audiences of the idea that Yin is some natural who impresses the members of this dance club – mainly Helen Dang’s Penny – as someone who could take them to the next level.
The choreography itself is executed well enough to pass the eye test for viewers (or at least some) of Yin’s innate talent, but with how stagnantly shot they are, Brian J. Johnson’s cinematography doesn’t bring the needed energy that Shum desperately wants to inject into the film. These sequences are also edited like a music video rather than an organic moment of pageantry, further weakening the emotional connection that should be beaming from Yin’s dance moves. “Whatcha Want” may sell Yin on the idea that she’s finally found her purpose, but the film fails to give any reason we should care.
