Cast: Michelle Krusiec, Joan Chen, Lynn Chen, Jin Wang, Guang Lan Koh, Jessica Hecht, Ato Essandoh, David Shih, Brian Yang, Mao Zhao

An original, authentic approach to a familiar plot scenario, Saving Face combines the story of Chinese-American familial disapproval to the love interests of daughters with conflicting cultural values of immigrant and first generation Chinese community members in modern day New York. It’s a neat reversal when Wil’s (Michelle Pang) widowed mother (the superb Joan Chen, simply called Ma) is ousted from her parents’ home and turns up pregnant on Wil’s doorstep. It presents mother and daughter with some interesting dilemmas based on duty. Sorting dutiful priorities for these Chinese-Americans means re-evaluating one’s duty to tradition, to family pride (or the illusion thereof), to one’s love relationship, career and hopefully not last, to oneself.

Wil is a talented surgeon in her late 20s whose star is on the rise. However, at the dreaded weekly dance to which all in the Chinese community drag themselves out of duty if not cultural solidarity, she is regarded as worrisomely unmarried and her mother despairs at her casual, boyish dress-sense. In this setting of gossipy matchmaking, mothers comment on the presentation, eligibility and prospects of all and sundry and match daughters and sons with little regard for their personal preferences. The younger unmarrieds are more or less resigned to the onerous weekly ritual but Wil only has eyes for vivacious dancer Vivian (Lynn Chen).

With agreeably uncontrived humour, Saving Face faithfully evokes the ludicrous situation of a community where the obvious real concern is what everyone else will think, while the agreed-upon delusion is that everyone knows what is best for everyone else or that tradition can’t be wrong. It’s all heavily reinforced by emotional blackmail, spoken or unspoken guilt-trips and double-binds of the “I’ve done all this for you and regardless of the fact that it’s not what you ever asked for or wanted, you should accept it and be grateful!” variety. Obviously the Chinese do not have a monopoly on this style of toxic societal coercion, so frequently manifested, for example, in Greek, Jewish, Italian or Indian romantic comedies.

Individuals in this community tacitly ignore and protect each other from ‘unacceptable’ truths that are universally known anyway, putting their own happiness last in the name of putting duty, tradition or others first. As a result, no-one is happy and the rigidity of the tradition is a hellish burden that belies the true community concern and affection beneath.

The friction and tension of this situation is beautifully wrought in the dissatisfied, closed-off faces and body-language of Ma and Wil, and contrast well with Vivian’s smouldering fire and relaxed, joyous freedom. The character arcs of both mother and daughter represent a more global change in the community, eventuating in more honesty and acceptance, even if only because the traditional values no longer serve individual – and by extension, societal - good.

In a community where everyone busily knows everyone else’s business - “One billion Chinese people,” sighs Wil, “Two degrees of separation!” - the scandal of Ma’s pregnancy is soon known and speculation on the identity of the father is rife. Nevertheless, Wil and Vivian manage to keep their love affair miraculously private, at least from the older generation, on Wil’s reluctance to add even more shame to the family name. There are some relevant questions put to her at various stages – by her co-worker Randi (Jessica Hecht) as to why she has to have her mother staying at her apartment when it cramps her style so severely. “Do you know the thousand year karma for a Chinese daughter not taking her mother in?” she exclaims. And when Wil asks Vivian what her father does, unknowing that he in fact is Wil’s boss at the hospital, Vivian says, “(He) judges me, fails me.” Regardless of the fact that as a dancer Vivian is more freely expressive and freer in her lifestyle than most, her father’s disapproval still rankles.

There’s an amusing scene contrasting cultural beliefs where Wil’s black neighbour Jay (Ato Essandoh) comes to dinner and Ma, in Chinese, horrifiedly comments that she will not be having any more soy sauce so the baby won’t be too dark. “Too late for him!” she sniffs. Doctor Wil is exasperated but as in so many other clashes, doesn’t push the point. Jay’s acceptance and support of Wil is in marked contrast to others’ attempted interference in her life.

There are interweaving parallel stories of Wil’s determined face-saving attempts to set Ma up on dates to find a husband before the birth of her child with Vivian’s growing dissatisfaction with Wil’s reluctance to come out. Trying to balance career opportunities and their relationship as gay Asians is another dilemma for Wil and Vivian, with some failures of courage before happier choices are made.

The wedding scene climax close to the end of the film, where the truth about Ma’s baby’s father is revealed allowing people’s true feelings to spill out all over the congregation, is the closest to a contrived, clichéd finish in its runaway bride on a bus á la The Graduate. However, the freshness of the humour and the outrageousness of the revelations make it acceptable.

Michelle Krusiec is terrific as the dutiful Wil and brilliantly evokes a recognisable modern Western-Chinese, gay or not, whose intelligence and modern sensibility is constantly undermined by resigned acceptance of cultural conditioning. Her sardonic wit, her self-lacerating resignation and her self-aware self-mocking are held in her thin, tense shoulders, the angle of her head and her voice. Joan Chen’s vulnerability as a 48 year-old mother/daughter, shamed and crying under her father’s thunderous condemnation, contrasts with her childlike confusion at finding herself in such a predicament, her whimsical ideas to change Wil’s apartment, her curiosity at everything in each of Wil’s cupboards and her fright coupled with disdain at the dates set up by Wil. The unexpected changes accumulate to lead her to new self-esteem, self-respect, and courageous responsibility for herself, where others’ opinions of her are no longer more important than her own.

Among many that are memorable, one riveting scene is back at the Friday night social where Wil first met Vivian. A scene so electric, so tender, so life-affirmingly joyous would be hard to match while the predictably funny reactions of the old school generation bring the film back from sentimentality and give it balance.  Complex and thoughtful, Saving Face is a rich, delightful experience and a superb debut feature for writer/director Alice Wu.

© Avril Carruthers            5^th August 2005