Facing My Feelings with THE FAREWELL

Rating: 🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀

In December of 2010, I was celebrating my 2-year anniversary with my college boyfriend. We had been dating long-distance for almost the entire duration; he had stayed in our hometown to attend a local college while I had moved to the midwest. We had started dating as high school seniors, and it was undeniable that as we both grew as people, things in the relationship were shifting. He suggested that we go see a new movie, Blue Valentine; I avoided it for the rest of my winter break until I was safely back in Missouri. It wasn’t that I don’t like sad movies (please, I’m a water sign); it was that I knew that if we saw this film about a crumbling relationship, our own would end. We stayed together for another two years, breaking up just a week after our 4-year anniversary. 

I felt in my gut that this film would have been the push I needed to break things off, but I wasn’t ready to admit to myself what needed to be done. There hasn’t been another film that so closely mirrored the feelings I’m scared to let myself feel. That is, there wasn’t, until I saw a trailer for The Farewell in May 2019, three months after my own grandmother passed away. 

It’s not a secret that it’s a great film: countless awards nominations, article after article praising Awkwafina’s poignant performance, solid reviews from all of my friends. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to watch it. It’s not that I was simply scared to be sad; it was that I hadn’t yet begun to grieve my grandmother’s passing, and I knew that watching a film about a dying grandmother would begin a process that I just wasn’t mentally prepared for. You see, my grandma and I had been estranged for years; in her last months, I grappled with the choice of whether or not to go see her and try to salvage our relationship, and ultimately did not. Despite assurances from my parents and my therapist, I still feel unsure about the choice I made, and a very complex grief began. Or, rather, it would have, had I not successfully pushed it down for months.

That is, until December, when Brody and I set out to watch a handful of the top films of the year that we had missed, beginning with The Farewell. With trepidation, I informed iTunes that yes, we could start the rental period now. From the first onscreen conversation between Billi and Nai Nai, I was struck--not by how similar our relationships were, but how different. My grandmother never called me on the phone. My grandmother didn’t have sweet nicknames for me. My grandmother didn’t keep up with my career aspirations. Before Billie even learned of Nai Nai’s diagnosis, my heart was already breaking, and we were only 10 minutes in. 

The film isn’t perfect, but what Lulu Wang does perfectly is portray a family full of characters that are so well-developed, with nuances and flaws and bright spots. Part of the magic of the film is that this story that seems so very specific is actually very universal. No matter what your family’s problems are, all of us have family problems. My choice was not the same as Billie’s, but a hard choice was still made, and we both had to live with the decision. 

It’s honestly a shame that The Farewell won’t be recognized at this year’s Academy Awards, but in my opinion, an Oscar isn’t the marker of a truly great film anyway. A masterpiece is something that can find the profundity in the mundane, can identify and then break down barriers between cultures and generations, and can evoke the emotions that we’ve buried down in our psyche. The day after we watched The Farewell, I told my therapist that I was finally ready to start talking through my feelings about my grandmother’s death. The movie itself was great, but more importantly, it began a conversation I had been dancing around for 10 months.

Movies are entertainment, and they can also be catharsis. The Farwell gave me both, and I’m grateful to Lulu Wang for being so willing to put her family’s experience on display. It’s impressive as a sophomore film for its sophisticated shot design and realistic dialogue, but Wang’s vulnerability is a skill that many seasoned filmmakers can’t grasp. If there’s a feeling you’ve been pushing down, whether it’s a gut instinct about a failing relationship, or a grief that you’re not ready to face, then maybe it’s time you let your heart crack open in front of a glowing screen.