Review by Eric Hillis
Directed by: Shih-Ching Tsou
Starring: Shih-Yuan Ma, Janel Tsai, Nina Ye, Teng-Hui Huang
Two decades after co-directing 2004's Take Out with Sean Baker, Shih-Ching Tsou has made her solo directorial debut with the Taipei-set family drama Left-Handed Girl. In the years since Take Out, Tsou has produced several of Baker's films, and Baker collaborates again here as co-writer and editor. Anyone familiar with Baker's filmography will recognise his influence here. Once again this is a film about working class strivers doing whatever they can to stay afloat; sex work rears its head; and like Tangerine, it was shot on an adapted iPhone.
The film's title refers to but one of its characters and one of its several subplots and story threads. Having left Taipei at some point in her past, Shu-Fen (Janel Tsai) returns to the Taiwanese metropolis with her two daughters - twentysomething I-Ann (Shih-Yuan Ma) and five-year-old I-Jing (Nina Ye). No prizes for guessing which of Shu-Fen's daughters is a bratty rebel and which is adorably precocious.
Shu-Fen moves her family into a cramped apartment and sets up a noodle stall at a bustling night market, where she quickly finds she's unable to keep up with the rent. She is befriended by a fellow stall-holder, Johnny (Brando Huang), but is oblivious to his romantic intentions. Shu-Fen's finances take a further hit when her estranged ex-husband passes away and she feels obliged to cover the funeral costs.
Meanwhile I-Ann takes a job working at a seedy stall that appears to be a front for prostitution. The film is unclear as to whether I-Ann is profiting from the world's oldest profession herself, but she is engaged in a sexual relationship with her boss. The left-handed I-Jing is scolded by her superstitious grandfather, who forces her to use her right hand, calling the left "the devil's hand" (this is by no means an exclusively Taiwanese belief; in 20th century Ireland my father was smacked around by teachers and priests for the crime of being left-handed). Deciding that she has no control over her left hand, I-Jing uses it to conduct an extensive shoplifting campaign. Her grandmother is also engaged in crime, working for people smugglers, which sees her make twice-monthly trips to the US.
I'm loathe to suggest Netflix should make more series and fewer movies, but Left-Handed Girl may have benefitted from a mini-series format, perhaps along the lines of Michael Winterbottom's Family, with each episode focussed on a specific family member. The various characters and subplots here are given short shrift, and some storylines are wrapped up with a line of dialogue. Shu-Fen initially appears as though she will be the fulcrum of the narrative, but of the three family members she's the one with whom we spend the least amount of time. She's defined largely by her financial and familial troubles, and we never really get a glimpse of who the real Shu-Fen is.
Perhaps indicative of Baker's involvement, the film is far more interested in the two younger members of Shu-Fen's small brood. I-Ann is very recognisable as the sort of determined yet arguably misguided young woman Baker's films have focussed on, not least his recent Oscar winner Anora. There's a suggestion that I-Ann's rebellion and sexuality are a reaction to some awful past trauma, but the film refuses to explore this in any depth because it's determined to conceal a late twist. We're reliant on Ma's performance to fill in many blanks, which she does skilfully. The people smuggling storyline is really just a setup for a comic punchline, and it's especially difficult to swallow in this current era of America's heavily policed borders.
The most satisfying storyline belongs to I-Jing, thanks largely to a remarkable performance by Ye. As the stooped camera follows I-Jing as she hustles and bustles through adult-lined human corridors we get the sense that we're watching a nature documentary with a toddler as its subject. Ye is so natural that the film appears to be following her lead. Western viewers will balk at the idea of a young child roaming around bustling city streets unaccompanied, but the night market here serves the same function as the motel setting of Baker's The Florida Project. It may be home to adults loaded with burdens, but for the young I-Jing it's a magical place, its tacky neon signage the stars that guide her.
Everything leads to the sort of extended, skin-crawling public meltdown that has become a staple of Baker's work, but there is an extra cultural heft here, given East Asia's obsession with saving face. These aren't the shameless white trash characters of Tsou and Baker's usual collaborations, but rather a group of women determined not to be seen at their lowest point. If much of Left-Handed Girl plays like Baker-lite, it's the cultural specificity Tsou brings to the table that makes it stand out, along with revelatory performances from young newcomers Ye and Ma.
Left-Handed Girl is on Netflix from November 28th.
