‘Rosemead’ Review: Lucy Liu’s Revelatory Turn Is the Reason to See an Otherwise Downbeat Family Drama

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Last year, a Michigan jury determined that the parents of a school shooter, who was 15 at the time, were accountable for the deaths their son had inflicted. The question remains: could they have stopped it? This thought-provoking theme is explored in the film “Rosemead,” directed by Eric Lin. The story follows a Chinese single mother struggling to manage her son’s disturbing inclinations, resulting in a tragic situation that mirrors the original. What makes this movie particularly startling is Lucy Liu’s exceptional performance, which breaks free from the stereotypical roles she played in “Charlie’s Angels” and “Kill Bill.” Her portrayal as the former “Ally McBeal” actress presents a completely new side of her.

A Michigan court decided that the parents of a school shooter were to blame for the killings their son committed. Could they have prevented it? This idea is shown in the movie “Rosemead,” where a Chinese mother takes extreme actions to control her son’s dangerous impulses, leading to an equally shocking outcome. The film features an outstanding performance by Lucy Liu that goes beyond her roles in “Charlie’s Angels” and “Kill Bill.” Her portrayal as the actress who played “Ally McBeal” shows a side of her we haven’t seen before.

Following the loss of my dear wife Irene Chao, I’ve found myself adopting a more humble gait, no longer strutting with pride but rather moving timidly. Instead of using makeup to enhance my features, I now use it to soften them, trying to blend in rather than stand out. In the story “Rosemead,” which takes its name from the east Los Angeles neighborhood where these events unfolded, I completely changed my body language. Clad in loose clothing and seeming to shrink within myself, I appeared almost invisible, as if trying to escape a world that wasn’t always welcoming towards Chinese immigrants like me.

As a passionate movie enthusiast, I recently found myself captivated by an independent drama that premiered at the Tribeca Festival, a film that resonates deeply with me due to its poignant exploration of mental health issues within Asian American communities. This powerful narrative was sparked by an enlightening report published in the Los Angeles Times, shedding light on this often overlooked aspect of our society.

Entering the theater, I must admit that I wasn’t entirely sure where the story would lead me. However, the filmmaker, Lin, whose expertise lies in cinematography, skillfully guides us through a visually striking journey from the very first frame. The meticulous composition of each scene is a testament to his artistic vision and demands our attention.

In the opening scene of the film without dialogue, a drone moves towards a window of the Sunset Hills Hotel, spying on a family of three who are singing and dancing in a room hidden behind curtains. Later, it is Lin who discloses this light-hearted moment as a blend of memories and dreams that symbolize happier times for the Chao family. Tragically, Irene’s husband has passed away, and her 17-year-old son, Joe (played by Lawrence Shou), who has been diagnosed with schizophrenia, hasn’t been his usual self since then.

The introverted adolescent frequently sketches ominous spiders during lessons and appears unusually fascinated by news stories about school violence. This doesn’t necessarily mean he will become a murderer in the future, but it takes Irene much longer than others to notice the potential dangers. Given the strong emphasis on privacy within Chinese culture, Irene tends to sweep issues under the carpet rather than addressing them openly, like many American-born individuals might do. Consequently, she remains in a state of denial, often making excuses for her son’s questionable behavior.

Initially, Joe visits counselor Orion Lee, but Irene refuses to participate in the therapy. However, this stance shifts throughout the movie as Irene becomes more involved in Joe’s predicament following his arrest for wandering into traffic. The actions of Joe’s school friends, who also voice their worries, highlight a crucial aspect of Marilyn Fu’s script: it’s not because they lack supportive relationships that Joe is finding it hard to fit in.

The film shows a deep understanding and compassion towards Joe, yet it uncovers some problematic behaviors that help us understand (although not necessarily excuse) Irene’s actions. It is crucial to mention that Irene is struggling with a significant burden of personal problems, including a terminal illness diagnosis and single-handedly running the family printing business. These issues are kept hidden from Joe due to her concern that the truth might be too much for him to bear. Irene confides more in her friend Helen (played by Madison Hu), but she still conceals most of her troubles.

The subtle approach Lin takes when portraying his characters’ emotions necessitates a more direct method of communication. “Rosemead” could have been more impactful if it had relied less on assumption and allowed the viewers to decipher Joe’s distress (implied through rapid, brief moments) and Irene’s doubts on their own. The beach scene, which is awkwardly dramatic as Irene forces a smile amidst her bloody coughing fits, lacks the finesse of a sophisticated narrative. In contrast, “Rosemead” demonstrates an impressive level of complexity in its representation of the underrepresented Asian American community, focusing primarily on this demographic (with the exception of school officials, law enforcement, and a white gun store owner).

In Irene’s particular scenario, she feels most at ease conversing in her native Cantonese, while her English lines are spoken with a thick accent and irregular sentence structure. Liu’s powerful performance is derived from meticulous observation, mirroring the struggles of an exasperated yet proud woman striving to raise a child in a land where she grapples with both language and culture. Unlike many films, “Rosemead” doesn’t offer a group hug or a quick fix for cancer or schizophrenia to resolve the Chaos family’s difficulties. However, Lin skilfully portrays the inevitable descent into tragedy with remarkable compassion. It’s a somber narrative that manages to find a glimmer of hope amidst its gloom.

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2025-06-07 02:18