‘There’s a Spiritual Cost to the Immigrant Narrative’

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Using a compassionate and introspective approach, Bing Liu constructed a heartfelt narrative in his 2018 documentary titled “Minding the Gap“, which served as an insightful examination of masculinity, revolving around three friends who share a deep bond through their shared passion for skateboarding. Liu’s exceptional skill at eliciting raw honesty from his subjects, such as his mother, whom he interviews about her experiences with an abusive step-father, earned the film a Best Documentary Feature nomination at the Academy Awards. Building on this skill, Bing Liu’s debut narrative and fictional feature, “Preparation for the Next Life“, amplifies that tender and delicate touch to even more impactful results.

Currently showing in cinemas, the movie tells a compelling story about Aishe, a Uyghur immigrant portrayed by newcomer Sebiye Behtiyar, who endures a hardscrabble life working long hours in Chinatown kitchens. She cautiously develops a relationship with Skinner, an Army veteran dealing with PTSD and housing instability, played by Fred Hechinger. This relationship doesn’t provide respite from the oppressive systems affecting them individually, but rather highlights their struggles. Aishe’s marginalized position in America creates barriers to her happiness and connections, while Skinner’s lack of access to necessary PTSD care puts a strain on their bond. Director Liu elicits touching, poignant performances from the leads, and Martyna Majok’s screenplay steers clear of the overly sentimental or patronizing tropes often found in Hollywood depictions of immigration narratives.

In times of heated debates surrounding the American Dream and its questionable allure, particularly for those who’ve moved to a land often built on their exploitation, “Preparation for the Next Life” comes as a poignant reflection. By weaving the tale of Aishe, Liu skillfully reveals that the notion of hard work leading to prosperity is more dream than reality. Sharing insights from his personal journey, he acknowledges this truth in an interview with Vulture. As a movie critic, I eagerly anticipate this film’s release for its timely and thought-provoking exploration of the American Dream’s elusive promises.

To generate an on-camera atmosphere that audience members can perceive as intimate, I’d say I draw inspiration from my background in skateboarding and filmmaking. Just like how movement through space is captivating in skateboarding videos, I aim to infuse the characters with a similar sense of activity. Growing up, my mother worked tirelessly in Chinese restaurants and her non-stop work ethic has always stuck with me – she was constantly doing, even when off duty.

I’ve come across young men who embody this restlessness, reminiscent of Skinner, and I want to capture that energy in my characters. This restlessness serves as a driving force, guiding us through the intricate landscape of Flushing, Queens, revealing its hidden depths. The kinetic energy created by this movement keeps viewers engaged, so when we arrive at close-ups or tense moments between characters, they’ll feel like these instances stand out from the general flow of action and truly resonate.

As a cinephile, I believe in exploring the rich tapestry of storytelling beyond just close-ups. While they can be powerful tools, I’ve found that they’re often overused by some directors. For me, it’s all about the tales the whole body can tell, especially with characters like Aishe and Skinner who have such unique physical relationships shaped by their backgrounds.

Aishe, being an Uyghur immigrant, has a deep-rooted bond with her father figure, built on strength, resilience, and agility. I wanted to capture how these traits are ingrained in her very essence. On the other hand, Skinner, a veteran, shares a significant history of camaraderie and physical competition with his Army buddy. This past is central to our focus with him.

Their language barriers often lead to miscommunications, but when words fail, I think they tap into a universal somatic language-a silent dialogue that binds them together despite their differences.

During rehearsals, I initiated each session with a dance routine. The objective for everyone was to contribute a song without sharing the selection with others, but we had to dance to all the chosen tracks. I joined in too, so we danced to three different songs at the outset of every rehearsal. This practice helped us realize that our entire body would be instrumental in portraying our characters and the narrative. In other words, the foundation for crafting these two characters was rooted in their physical presence from the start.

Inquiring about your approach towards naturalism in filmmaking: I’ve noticed that some critics describe your work using the term “naturalism,” which seems fitting given its documentary-like feel. However, I often find myself questioning if it accurately represents your intention. With a medium as constructed as film, it can be challenging to maintain an authentic appearance. Was naturalism a conscious choice for you and your team during production? And could you elaborate on your perspective regarding the concept of naturalism in cinema?

You also mentioned wanting to create a visual narrative that juxtaposes with naturalism in some aspects. How did you achieve this balance between maintaining realism while also imbuing the film with an unconventional, surprising aesthetic? Your choice of using Panavision’s 1.3 X lenses adds intrigue to your unique approach.

The movie appears to be portrayed as more symbolic than a straightforward depiction of life in poverty. While some viewers might interpret it as naturalism, I believe it delves deeper into the hardships and everyday struggles of living in poverty, focusing on the hidden corners and tensions that often go unnoticed. The filmmaker aims to present this theme with an empathetic and truthful approach.

Moreover, the movie seems to reflect an immigrant narrative with a strong socioeconomic focus, centered around material success. However, it also highlights the emotional and spiritual costs associated with such a journey, as seen in the story of the protagonist’s mother.

To emphasize the film’s philosophical undertones, they chose to employ a stylized visual approach reminiscent of the movie Heat, using a 50-mil lens. This choice creates moments that provoke questions about life’s purpose and the future of one’s spiritual wellbeing, going beyond mere greetings or farewells, and delving into the bigger picture of personal growth and fulfillment.

In a natural and easy-to-read manner:

The lead actress, Sebiye Behtiyar, exudes an impressive confidence for being her first feature role. Her comfort level with the camera seems effortless, contributing to the sense of authenticity on screen. I’d like to discuss my approach to directing actors and my guiding philosophy when working with my leading actress.

During my time in L.A., I took acting classes and learned that there isn’t one set way to work with actors. Some people had no professional experience, while others had plenty, but each required a unique approach. What resonated with me was the emphasis on asking questions, as it allowed for exploration and discovery – much like in documentary filmmaking where the focus is on curiosity and uncovering the unknown.

In this project, Sebiye didn’t have the same level of experience as some actors I’ve worked with before, but she proved open-minded, emotionally intelligent, and self-aware enough to embrace the collaborative process. On a more technical note, Sebiye has a knack for fully committing to her role, requiring refinement and expansion of her initial instincts.

One interesting observation I’ve made while creating skateboarding documentaries is that individuals tend to be more open and sincere immediately following a skateboarding session. Communication, as we usually perceive it, is often thought of as a purely verbal or intellectual exercise. However, I believe that skateboarding demonstrates that it is in fact a whole-body experience. Scientists suggest there are five times as many neurons in your gut as in your brain, and this might be what I’ve observed during skateboarding.

As a result, I decided to incorporate dance into the rehearsals and the on-screen footage. This allows us to express ourselves not just metaphorically, but also physically, providing a complete embodiment in both a literal and figurative sense.

How do you believe filming on-location in New York City contributed to the movie, and can you share how you and your cinematographer tackled the challenge of portraying one of history’s most frequently depicted cities?

My intention was to create a heartfelt tribute to a place not many people get to visit. I embarked on an urban exploration journey, inviting my collaborators, Ante Cheng and production designer Kelly McGehee, to join me. Instead of focusing on the logistics of how we could pull this off, we aimed to discover what makes this city unique – the unexpected combinations like a functioning Daoist temple next to a Latin bar, for example. We sought to highlight these authentic elements rather than artificially creating or imposing our ideas upon them. It was quite a task for the locations department due to the close-knit and somewhat cautious nature of the local businesses, many of whom were hesitant about having cameras in their establishments and signing agreements.

Through sheer serendipity, we collaborated with Jenny Liu, an influential figure in New York City’s Chinese film community since the ’80s. Her persuasive nature and readily available cash made miracles happen for us during production. We aimed to illustrate the unique and somewhat surreal qualities of some locations. One such location was an office that seemed to lead from Aishe’s boss’s workspace, right into a restaurant kitchen. It was almost unbelievable but, indeed, real. This former government office had been repurposed as a kitchen extension for a Chinese eatery, and we wanted to capture this authenticity by filming it in one continuous shot, demonstrating that the location was genuine.

As a movie enthusiast, I found the creative use of Aishe’s parents exercising in their jail cell particularly captivating. It sparked my curiosity about how this film employed voice-over in Uyghur, which offered an intriguing glimpse into her character and challenged common expectations associated with voice-overs. To delve deeper into the creative process behind this decision, let me share some insights.

In my own filmmaking journey with “Mind the Gap”, I experimented with voice-over as a means of integrating my narrative into the film. However, it didn’t resonate with me-it felt staged and took away from the immersive experience. This led me to question what makes voice-overs successful: they need to have a distinct perspective and narrate their own story effectively, often tying up loose ends by the end.

What I came to realize was that the most effective voice-overs didn’t serve as mere devices; rather, they were integral parts of the characters themselves. Once I embraced this concept, Aishe’s voice-over transformed into a heartfelt conversation between her and her father. Being a woman of great strength who keeps much to herself, it was fascinating to witness glimpses of vulnerability and tenderness in her words.

In the film, Aishe and Skinner’s relationship is intriguing, especially when Aishe tells Skinner in her native language: “You believe I owe you my life because you treated me like a human? I am a human.” This line encapsulates their contrasting viewpoints. Through these characters, I aimed to depict both political and emotional aspects that are rooted in our personal experiences and observations. When dealing with such relationships, they can seem unusual, challenging, and hard to express. It was crucial for me to portray this accurately because my mother’s 20-year relationship with her husband, whom she married to secure citizenship for us, experienced various phases – loving, fun, difficult, frustrating, toxic, abusive, and hopeful. For this specific story, I wanted the audience to remember their ages, as their youth plays a significant role in the narrative.

These are individuals who, despite being in their twenties, skipped over much of their childhood experience due to premature maturation. Consequently, they tend to behave immaturely within relationships, which can be entertaining, but they lack the skills necessary to handle issues when they arise. It seems that this is what led to problems in their relationships. All connections have flaws and people inevitably upset each other unintentionally, leading to conflicts. However, they were unable to rectify these mistakes effectively.

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2025-09-11 17:56