Chang-rae Lee is one of the most notable voices in Asian-American literature, a key figure in exploring the identity and evolution of the Asian subculture in the west. So, it is no surprise that the first adaptation of his work to the silver screen, Coming Home Again, is helmed by director Wayne Wang who is himself a prominent figure in the development of Asian-American cinema. Based on an autobiographical essay that Lee published in The New Yorker in 1995, Coming Home Again is a deeply personal story about the relationship of a son and his dying mother. Wang’s adaptation superbly captures the reflective and meditative nature of the source material, delivering a piece that treads carefully between grief, tragedy, and hope.
plot of the film revolves around young aspiring writer, Chang-rae (Justin
Chon), who quits his prestigious Wall Street job to take care of his sick
mother (Jackie Chung) in San Francisco. On New Year’s Eve he prepares his and
his mother’s favorite meal, trying to follow the recipe as close as he can. The
process brings back many memories for Chang-rae. Emotions that were buried deep
begin to emerge. It becomes increasingly apparent that food and cooking are the
strongest means of connection between Chang-rae and his mother. When the entire
family sits around the dinner table, Chang-rae realizes he’s not quite made peace
with his mother’s condition.
Coming Home Again has a very powerful premise, one which director Wayne Wang shows great skill in adapting. The contemplative tone of the original essay translates well on the screen as the director’s bold choice to keep the non-linear structure of the source material pays off. Much like an emerging memory, the film bounces back and forth between the present day (New Year’s Eve) and various moments in Chang-rae’s and his mother’s life. These transitions are seamless and often come unannounced. There’s nothing to distinguish the past and the present save for the occasional use of a warmer color palette that contrasts the gray-ish tone of the apartment where most of the film takes place. The sense of claustrophobia is ever-present, giving a perfect visual metaphor for the struggling inner world of the protagonists.
course, the actors deserve at least half of the merit for helping the film achieve
a proper melancholic atmosphere. The two leads are remarkable as the mother and
son duo. Chung and Chon add a lot of dynamism into what is an otherwise a slow
and static film, in addition to reinforcing the overall tone and style. For
instance, Chang-rae’s melancholic voice in the opening scene of the film
clearly forbears the tragedy that will be revealed just a few minutes later. Chung,
on the other hand, occupies most of the film’s runtime as a bedridden cancer
patient, yet still manages to effortlessly juggle between the subtle emotional
states that her role requires. The dialogue has an improvised quality about it
that sounds awkward and “off-key” at times, though it helps keep the
film grounded in realism.
There are differences between the source material and the film, but they only stand out to those who’ve read Lee’s original essay. The additions in the film include some extra dialogue, along with an extra subplot involving Chang-rae’s father (John Lie) and his potential infidelity. These scenes don’t necessarily add much to the story other than help fill in the essay’s rather stripped-down narrative.
Home Again might not be a film for
everyone. It’s a work of slow of cinema that requires at least a second or
third watch to resonate with the viewer – but once it does, it is extremely
John Atom is two things: a molecular physicist by day and a devout cinephile by night. His love for Asian cinema started way back in high school when one rainy night he decided to pick up a rather peculiar-looking DVD of a movie called Oldboy... and he was hooked! Since then, he’s watched just about every Asian film he could get his hands on, and plans to continue doing so. More recently he’s developed a new interest in science fiction, particularly in the interdependence of science and SF, and how one may influence the other.