Lilting (2014) User Reviews

Moving and Thought-provoking, but fails to reach its true potential.

[akash_sebastian · 7/10 · 10 October 2014]

A British guy trying to make a connection with the conservative Chinese mother of his deceased partner; the theme and the gloomy cinematography make you sad even before the story begins to unfold. Communication is the main problem over here. They somehow manage with the help of a translator, and I like how they sometimes say things and then tell the translator not to translate it (because they realise how it would sound). This leads to few funny moments occasionally.

The movie has a really good start, but after halfway through, the Director/Writer loses his way; it seemed as if he's not sure as to where to take the story. By the time it ended, I felt dissatisfied; the story should have been longer or the characters should have been explored and developed a little more.

The two leads, Ben Whishaw and Pei-pei Cheng, give quite strong and incredible performances; they have a few immensely moving scenes. And it doesn't hurt that Andrew Leung, the actor playing the deceased partner, is quite handsome; he and Ben looked quite good together, which makes his death even more painful.

The conversations the two lead characters share are quite moving and thought-provoking, and the monologue Junn has towards the end on the essence of grief and crying is really beautiful. Let me quote the most effective lines from it: "These memories are all I have; I need to keep them vivid, or they'll fade like the face of my husband. I want to dwell on these memories and cry over them because they comfort me. Through plenty of crying, I've learnt to be content that I won't always be happy, secure in my loneliness, hopeful that I'll be able to cope."

The movie is depressing, yet uplifting, but somehow I feel, it failed to reach its true potential.

Hong Khaou has directed an assured and thoughtful debut full of subtle releases and deeply felt emotions.

[dipesh-parmar · 8/10 · 9 March 2015]

Junn (Cheng Pei Pei) is a widowed Cambodian-Chinese woman who lives in an old peoples home in London, placed there by her only son Kai (Andrew Leung). With no other family, and having left Cambodia over 50 years ago, Junn is alone and unwilling to adapt to her surroundings or the people she's placed with.

She relies on Kai's attentions and affections, but her isolation becomes utterly complete with his unfortunate death. Junn knew that Kai lived in a house with Richard (Ben Wishaw), but Kai hadn't told her they were together as a couple. Grief-stricken himself, Richard feels duty-bound to help Junn, but they don't even share a common language let alone know much about each other.

Alan (Peter Bowles) resides at the home too and starts an unusual relationship with Junn where they talk to each other in their own languages, not really knowing what on earth the other is thinking or talking about apart from physical gestures. Richard tries to help this sweet pairing by hiring a translator in Vann (Naomi Christie), so that they can communicate with each other. Its a way in for Richard to get closer to Junn, who has her own reasons for disliking him.

'Lilting' is the debut from writer-director Hong Khaou, who shines a light on contrasting cultures in the capital. Grief is foremost in the minds of all concerned, Wishaw is wonderful as the achingly suppressed Richard, who gradually releases his grief the more he gets to know Junn, showing her just how much he loved Kai. Pei Pei plays the stoic mother perfectly, you can see the isolation, love and grief in her eyes.

In light of the subject matter, the overall mood of 'Lilting' is quite forgiving. Junn and Alan provide the most endearing moments as well as some awkwardly comical scenes especially when they confess their bad habits to each other. Dealing with such weighty issues as love, memory, language and mourning, Khaou has directed an assured and thoughtful film full of subtle releases and deeply felt emotions.

Depressing, yet moving and uplifting

[punishable-by-death · 8/10 · 24 September 2014]

This is the debut feature film for Hong Khaou, and being of Cambodian descent, I imagine this movie may be semi-autobiographical, though that is obviously pure speculation. This interesting little film (running on an insanely low budget of 12,000 pounds if I am not mistaken) is about a Chinese-Cambodian elderly woman, Junn (veteran actress Pei-Pei Chang), who has just lost her son Kai, not long after he put her into a home. He was gay, but could never bring himself to tell his mother. This was the reason she ended up in the home and not living with him and his boyfriend Richard (Ben Whishaw).

When Richard enters the fold initially he seems like a stranger, at least as far as Junn is concerned, and to make it harder, he can't communicate with Junn as she can speak 8 different dialects, but refuses to learn English despite living in the UK. Despite their differences, despite the overwhelming obstacles to hurdle, Richard is not intending on giving up trying to talk to his partner's mother. They share the same pain, but Junn has no idea of this. Since Junn doesn't know about the same-sex relationship her son was having, Richard's job becomes at least twice as tough, as he has to act as Kai's 'best friend', trying to connect with Junn that they both are sharing the same misery, the same loneliness and sense of loss after losing a loved one.

Along the way Junn meets a gentleman who is also a resident at the home. Playing an amusingly dry old codger, Peter Bowles as Alan is smitten by Junn, yet they have no way of truly communicating. Richard rectifies this by hiring a translator, which helps both Alan and Richard as it opens up a dialog between the different parties, for better or worse. Richard continues to go to endless lengths to try and communicate and help Junn overcome her son's death, as unwilling as she seems, as well as trying to help negotiate the problems Junn and Alan are having; it seems the possibility of a relationship with Alan may be slim. And so the story goes, moving from this premise into emotional territory where each character's decision is not easy, and someone as stubborn as Junn makes life difficult for Richard and the translator he has to help smooth the process… Which doesn't go as smoothly as planned.

This film is extremely depressing at points and heartwarming at others. It is nice to see a film with a real heart without dipping into overly sentimental trite. The true unforgettable message that this film gave me was how it illustrated how culture can truly alienate us; from loved ones, from people who want to help. But at the same time, it highlights elements of the human condition that transcend culture, such as family, or music. I didn't think I'd enjoy this as much as I did, it isn't my type of film really. But I really liked it. Probably also because I have seen how truly heart-breaking it is to make that decision to put a parent/grandparent in a home really is. It ain't pretty.

8/10 - If you aren't looking for action, and are interested in watching a more thought-provoking movie that really will pull at your emotions, check this one out. The absurdly low budget is not noticeable at all, especially given the quality of the production, from the perfect sequence of scenes, to the subtle but interesting photography work and the minimal but effective soundtrack.

This isn't a film that I will revisit immediately, unlike many others than have been released this year. But I know that a time will come where I suddenly will have to put this on. It is a powerful, emotional film that subtly comments on the differences of cultures and/or language, the stigma that is still attached to same-sex couples, especially among older, more 'traditional' people, but most importantly, a few key scenes show us that differences in culture, in language, in beliefs, can be transcended, and no matter what the barriers between communication may be, humanity can prevail.

It is not impossible to share true, meaningful moments with someone who cannot speak a word of your language. This film excels at showing this, linking us all as human, no matter our colour, our culture or our beliefs.

admirable work

[Vincentiu · 13 December 2014]

more than a film, a gem. touching, seductive, poetic, delicate, a kind of spring morning. a film about fundamental small things. but not only the script is special but the rare and impressive art to use the right measure. because it is a gentle job, splendid for music and for the nuances of acting, for image and for the translation of clash between worlds, the form of memories, the silk touch, the great job of Pei+Pei Cheng.a film who has an unique delicacy , maybe not great but useful for each scene. a kind of dance with a spectacular choreography. it is difficult to define more than a happy discover. so, see it. it could be one from expected films.

an emotional grinder which sends many positive messages

[lasttimeisaw · 7/10 · 4 November 2014]

The debut film from Cambodian director Hong Khaou, which is indeed a UK production, pairs the outed actor Ben Whishaw with Chinese actress Pei-Pei Cheng, who is the Kungfu heroine in her prime and has launched a strong comeback in Ang Lee's masterful CROUCHING TIGER, HIDDEN DRAGON (2000, 10/10) as the villainous Jade Fox. And the story is rather plain-speaking, Whishaw is Richard, a young gay man loses his boyfriend Kai (Leung) in a car accident, and he has to take care of Kai's mother Junn (Pei-Pei), who has been put in an elderly house since Kai never comes out to her.

Firstly, it might strike that the after-trauma coming-out story is the main dramatic task Khaou tries to transpire here, not simply because Kai was just going to come out to her finally before the darning accident. However, it comes off rather unoriginal in year 2014, instead, the film puts a lot of thoughts in joggling with the deeply rooted cultural differences here and with a touch of humor. Junn is a Cambodian-Chinese, although has been staying in UK for more than half of her lifetime, she has been (inexplicably) refusing to learn English, so the communication mostly relies on a translator Vann (Naomi Christie), whose genial presence is imperative regarding the situation but also a harsh intruder in their privacy.

Structurally speaking, the film is a tiny-budgeted chamber piece, with occasional scenic shots in bleak hue to adjust the right sentiment. Whishaw sends off a whiff of empathetic poignancy as the bereaved boyfriend, alternatively immersed himself into the intimate memories of Kai, and puts on a strong facade to face Junn, who never ease up towards him. Pei-Pei, fires up in a more moderate range of grief (also due to the memory loss set-up of Junn), is much more presented as confused and dissatisfied in her plight, and the telling jealousy which she finally acknowledged in the dialog, it is a well-modulated performance, but as a native mandarin speaker, Pei-Pei's utterance is too formal and rigid, more like a theatrical rendition than a lifelike talk, especially the scenes with Leung, who clearly is not Chinese and his mandarin is jarringly bad, one might find it is plausible because he is basically assimilated by the western culture (since his English is pretty British), but when it comes to the main language he has been communicated with his mother ever since his birth, it is disappointing to the fact that Khaou has failed to find a real mandarin-speaker for the role instead (besides that Leung is quite an eye-candy in this film), surely, for a foreign ear, it hardly matters. Naomi Christie, a débutante in acting, grants Vann a fresh air of pertinence not only as a Good Samaritan whose good offices always allow her to change the literal translation, moreover, she surprisingly prompts herself from an unattached bystander to a blunt participator during her own involvement of the matter.

Among the cast there is the Veteran Peter Bowles, plays Alan, the suitor of Junn in the elderly home, it is through his courtship to Junn, viewers can resort to a diverting corner of laughters. Before Vann's presence, everyone goes well although they cannot share any common language, but as soon as they can get through each other through a third person, the distinctive discrepancy of their lifestyles is too much for Junn to handle, the singular part when they try to frankly disclose each other's bad habits, Junn feels uncomfortable with Alan's cop-a-feel conducts but is offended when he accuses her of bad breathe due to constantly eating garlic and instinctively gets even with his equally smelly body odor as a Caucasian. These are stock cultural biases which one can always generate some chuckling from, in here, it hits squarely on the nose. Odour is also romantically linked here between Richard and Kai, "smell my armpit" is not a common line we get from movies, and the sensitive characterization of the abiding smell of the deceased is a genuine tear-jerker.

Hong Khaou's debut film is a welcoming gem in the queer cinema, quite an emotional grinder which sends many positive messages such as mutual understandings, braving oneself to face the hard times and grief, then most importantly, one maxim to remember "all children will feel guilty when their parents are old".

PS: news arrived, the film has just grabbed 3 BIFA nominations (short for British Independent Film Awards), including BEST DEBUT DIRECTOR and BEST ACTRESS, congratulations!

Echoes of Wong Kar Wai in this beautiful film

[dominic_brant · 9/10 · 8 August 2014]

Echoes of Wong Kar Wai resonate beautifully throughout this very moving and understated, and yet very funny film. It can be viewed as a study in grief and cross-cultural misunderstanding or even prejudice. Two people try to comes to terms with the death of the person they each love the most. They are on conflicting sides of desperate love triangle. Each seeks recognition, and each needs to place their love in, an unexpected, context. Each needs to be understood.

In many Wong Kar Wai films the actors speak to each other in different languages with seeming full understanding. It suggests a disjuncture between time, place and culture, where language, usually the unifying factor within the narrative, becomes the source of each character's isolation. Lilting is self-conscious in its language play and it works powerfully to both comic and emotional effect. This has the magic effect of bending time. Locations are practically sparse, but the film gives the feeling of having moved us quite literally around the world.

The film demonstrates that with translation, there is always something essential that is lost. This might be cultural sensitivity, the feeling that we understand when, actually, we do not. Thus, it questions the assumptions we all make. It might also be the feeling that we know something or someone when actually we do not.

This may sound a heady, difficult mix. Far from it.

The film is beautifully shot, and again we experience something of the camera work of Christopher Doyle (Wong Kar Wai's leading cinematographer) in the delicate and soft palate of colours, and subtlety of framing which are as evocative as the language play in evoking mood and location. Nothing is wasted in this film. Even landmark pieces of music (another Wong motif) sit perfectly within the cross cultural narrative.

This is a film I will watch again and not simply for the references to Wong Kar Wai, It's a seamless depiction of loss in a world of seeming falling borders.

I hope you enjoy the film as much as I have.

The mother is the actual protagonist

[alianiara · 6/10 · 3 January 2016]

Throughout this movie, about the half Chinese man or his partner, we don't know their jobs or other status. Nor do we know much about their characters; when they appear they are mostly either discussing or describing the Chinese mother. Yet about her, we know every detail.

The one who refused to learn the language while attracted to the culture; the one who continued to control her son even though he is a total grown-up; the one who contests for her son's affections and attention with whoever comes across; the one who deliberately remained incapable of taking care of herself so that the son cannot leave her alone. So typically a Chinese mother.

The problem of communication

[johnmcc150 · 9/10 · 13 August 2014]

This is a gem. I wouldn't have watched it unless I had been taken. (Thank you, Beryle.) If it had been on TV, I might have watched some of it, but that is the joy of cinema. You have no distractions. I thought it might be depressing; it wasn't. I thought it wasn't my sort of film; it was. Thought-provoking.

It was easy to forget that you were watching actors. The performances were that good and very moving. It was very much like a French film.

It was interesting how much back-story was left out and yet it still worked. I asked myself a few questions because I wanted to know more. (Perhaps I felt I could help.) Where were we? (North-east London/Essex?) How long had she lived in England by depending on her husband and son for all communication with the outside world? What did people do for a living? Where did the translator come from and was she being paid? Without her son would she at last break out into the world? However I realised the back-story didn't matter. It told you all you needed to know. The nub was all that mattered: an insight into communication, memory and grief. Some things have to be said and some things are perhaps best left unsaid. The characters kept asking the translator not to translate after they had said something because they had time to see the effect it would have, (something that does not happen with a common language) but even the translator could not help but get involved.

You could speculate on a happier outcome but the final scene where she drifted back to the last meeting with her son perhaps indicated it would be a while yet before she could move on.

Very, very good.

Perhaps a little too stilted and slight, but it hits emotional high points.

[Sergeant_Tibbs · 7/10 · 3 February 2015]

Hong Khaou's debut film Lilting offers a very interesting 'lost in translation' dynamic. What do you get when you put a homophobic elderly Chinese woman in the same room as her deceased son's boyfriend who feels a responsibility to her? Ben Whisaw and Pei-pei Cheng are terrific as the pair. Unfortunately the film is littered with flaws in its lack of restraint despite the limitation. It's very stilted in delivery, it makes an unwise decision to try to include the translator character into the drama without fully committing to her and it's tonally awkward with the comedic relief of the elderly woman's new boyfriend. Ghost characters reek of student film. Nevertheless the aesthetics are lovely with beautiful saturated wide angle cinematography and although it's slight in its runtime it's powerful in its tragedies, frustrations and ultimately the bonds forged. I'm sure Hong Khaou will continue to deliver poignant work and hopefully shred the inconsistencies.

7/10

"Lazy bitch" and the amazing Ben Whishaw

[hughman55 · 10/10 · 14 April 2015]

"Lilting" is a quiet study of two people at opposite ends of grief. After the sudden death of Kai (Andrew Leung) his boyfriend Richard (Ben Whishaw) is left to piece together the compartmentalized fragments of Kai's brief life. Single most among them, that Kai has left his mother, Junn (Pei Pei Chen), stranded in a rest home. Though Kai had kept his and Richard's relationship a secret from her, Richard nevertheless initiates contact with Junn. Meeting with her at the rest home he discovers that she has made an "acquaintance", Alan (Richard Bowles), with whom she shares no spoken language. Their relationship is based on sensations and a complete lack of any practical knowledge of one another. Seeing this Richard takes it upon himself to hire a translator, Vann (Naomi Christie). Richard tells Vann that Junn speaks six different languages, and that one of them is NOT English despite having lived for decades in London. Vann responds, "lazy bitch" and he responds with a pained smile, "so selfish". Those simple lines are filled with sympathy, awe, and irony. Richard and Vann fully comprehend this. With that they establish an on screen chemistry that is endearing and comforting. And that moment is the start of how this movie uses grief, loss, and profound sadness, to explain the absolute necessity of understanding the meaning of words - and the absolute irrelevance of the meaning of words. The trajectory of these two grieving souls, Richard and Junn, coming face to face, is now set.

Richard repeatedly extends himself to Junn in an effort to pick up where her son left off. Though his efforts are generous and from the heart, they are not without some self interest. When Richard is close to Junn he's close to someone who, though in a different way, loved Kai as much as he did. Through flashbacks we come to know that Richard had a healthier and less conflicted perception of Junn than did her son. Kai was afraid to explain fully who Richard was to his mother and she grew to imagine him as an impediment to her relationship with her son. And by bringing Junn and Alan together through a translator, Richard allows himself, once again, to be placed on the perimeter of Junn's life. It is the familiar place he was kept in when Kai was alive.

Junn searches Richards eyes trying to figure out who he is, why he is helping her, and what exactly her son meant to him. She hears him speaking English, but she searches his eyes for the real meaning that she knows is beyond the translated word. Richard holds back his own grief over Kai allowing Junn to be the grieved one. At one point Junn references a picture of Kai and Richard's emotions well up. Choking back tears and barely able to speak, he asks Junn, "do you like living here?" The disconnect of hearing such pointless chitchat from someone so emotionally devastated is jarring. Over and again, Richard chooses to suppress his grief. Junn has lost the only person in the world she loved. So has he. And she can't know.

Kai is never seen "alive" in this film. He appears in flashback as he is being remembered by either his mother or Richard. Because this is not known immediately to the audience, we go through our own experience of loss and grief as we come to realize that he is gone. The bedroom scenes with Richard and Kai are ethereal and touching. Breathtaking cinematography creates a halcyon beauty to their connection with one another. Filmed from one side of the bed, with light from the window on their skin, memory is implied. Filmed with the window in the background suggests reality. These bits are cut together, continuously, throughout the scene. The dialog sometimes comes from their mouths as though spoken and alternately in voice-over as though being remembered. It is genius, subtle, and very moving. And that is just one of the ways this film conveys the absence of the character around whom this story is being told. Connecting these related scenes and flashbacks are tableaux of cold gray skies, landscapes entombed in frost, leafless, lifeless, trees, and an underlying music score of haunting contemplative beauty. These winterscapes are the connective metaphor for death and loss that underlies this story.

The ocular interplay in this film is a whole separate script from the written dialog. It heightens the emotional dexterity of the narrative and is powerful in the hands of this cast. Listen with your ears, but watch everyone's eyes. Pei Pei Cheng's performance is astonishing. Especially to the "English only" ear. We experience her reality as she rails with grief and frustration in a language we don't understand. That is her life, every waking minute of every day, now that her only human connection to the world is gone. Naomi Christie is affable, sweet, and unselfishly torn between the separate worlds of Richard's and Junn's loss. But it is Ben Whishaw, who's character has to balance ALL these realities in this drama, who gives a shattering and achingly constrained performance. Only Richard knows where all the pieces of this tragedy puzzle are. And only he can reveal them or choke them back when, and if, the time is right. He carries the full weight of this sad story alone and you feel it, through him, deeply. A role as complex and multi-layered as this cannot be in lesser hands and be effective. Wishaw is just brilliant. He not only delivers a riveting but quiet performance, he also chooses his film projects intelligently. Which brings me to first-time writer/director Hong Kahou. He has written an original, and complicated screenplay, and executed it with masterful directing. More than telling you a story, he tells you a feeling. And it is one that will stay with you for some time. The sad but hopeful ending was a complete stunner. And in retrospect, perfect.

An interesting film, with not too many twists

[schorschi100 · 7/10 · 22 October 2020]

Whishaw excels as the boyfriend of a deceased Chinese man, whose mother lives in an house for the elderly. Cheng Pei-pei (the mother) is at least equally brilliant. The story is about the two of them slowly coming closer and manage (or perhaps learn) to accept each other's existence in the deceased life.

Although the plot is a bit thin leaving several question marks as to why for instance thinks came to the present state (especially for the mother), the main actors' performance makes up for it. There are some repeating scenes (rather annoying in my opinion, since they do not offer any additional resolution), and there is a slice of overdramatization, but the film manages to not cross the line over to being kitsch. The cinematography is a mixture of western and asian styles, for the westerners with a tendency to sentimental exaggeration, for asians with a portion of bluntness. What I also missed was at least some reference to how they both dealt with the death. The film is namely all about the interaction between the two of them.

In any case, I found the film worth watching, but be warned, you might wanna have a handkerchief nearby.

Astonishing, Heartbreaking, Affirming & True. Perfect Filmmaking!

[olearytko · 10/10 · 17 July 2014]

I was a big fan of writer-director Hong Khaou before I saw this wonderfully touching movie. I had loved his award-winning short films SUMMER & SPRING. They were both original and funny and moving. Neither of those works, however, prepared me for the depth and beauty of LILTING. This movie is heartbreaking but it is also truly life affirming. The writing and directing by Hong are stellar. The editing and music are spot on. And the acting is glorious. Ben Whishaw continues to astonish. Legendary actress Pei-pei Cheng gives the performance of her career. She is glorious.

I highly recommend this lovely gem of a film. Bravo to all involved.

There's no lilting here.

[Davalon-Davalon · 2/10 · 2 October 2018]

It is unclear what the point of this film was supposed to be. While there are some shots of natural settings that are pleasing to the eye, and while almost anything Ben Whishaw appears in is a pleasure to watch, "Lilting" does not work on any level.

Kai, a young Asian man (a lackluster Andrew Leung) is secretly living with Richard (Whishaw), his British boyfriend, while trying to keep his aging mother Junn (Pei-Pei Cheng) in the dark about their relationship. Although this film is only 4 years old, this concept seems extremely dated, for starters.

Next, Junn is far from decrepit, but Kai has decided to put her in a senior citizens' living facility, which, despite many comments and arguments about throughout, is quite nice. But having her there seems to be part of a long list of other issues for Kai and for Junn, and those issues are apparently supposed to contribute to the "drama" of this story. I did not buy any of it.

Then, because Kai "likes to take the bus" instead of taking a car, when he finally goes to pick up Junn and bring her back to his apartment so that she can have dinner with he and Richard, and so that he can tell her that he and Richard are a couple, Kai gets killed in a car accident. Why this required this huge set-up about him taking the bus was pointless. He could have been killed in any number of ways; I hate to say this, but the cause for his death was very pedestrian. Sad, of course, for anyone to lose their life, but since Kai is not really likable and because his character is essentially some kind of spoiled, nervous, closeted gay man who didn't really seem to have a nice word to say about anyone or anything, it was really hard to care one way or another; being killed by a car did not make me have more sympathy for him nor draw me into the story further.

So, now we have the "survivors": the grieving mother and the boyfriend, who still feels compelled for the longest time to hide the truth from the mother about her son's relationship. But why? He was dead; what could be gained from hiding the truth?

Then, in some effort for Richard to gain Junn's trust (I guess this was the motivation), he hires Vann (Naomi Christie), a semi-pro translator, who will help facilitate things between Junn and her senior citizen home paramour, Alan (Peter Bowles). You see, Junn doesn't speak any English and Alan doesn't speak any Chinese.

Okay... but... in the scheme of things... this served no purpose and was a separate story entirely. In fact, for a portion of the film Richard disappears while Vann translates everything so Junn and Alan, who has a thing for her, can communicate.

But then Richard works his way back into the equation by first refusing to give Junn Kai's ashes. Then he gets heated and upset when things don't work out between Junn and Alan, and when Vann accidentally misuses pronouns during a translation, he goes postal on her and cruelly berates her. I could not understand for one second why Vann tolerated this abuse. Richard must have been paying her a ton of money.

And speaking of that: Apparently Kai and Richard were independently wealthy or Junn had some amazing retirement fund or social security income, because nobody in this film seemed to have any job, except for Vann, and even she seemed to have tons of time to help Richard as he worked through his long list of emotions.

Here's the thing: Ben Whishaw has talent. And he is the one person in any of the scenes in this film that stands out. But, as has been pointed out elsewhere -- the script is so bad that it doesn't matter how good he is.

Although this was clearly shot on a budget, and the lighting is fairly dark and atmospheric, the look of the film was fairly appealing. In addition to Ben's talents, Pei-Pei Ching has a certain gravitas about her that is appealing, and Naomi Christie gave a completely natural performance (which still doesn't excuse why she put up with Richard's verbal abuse).

But none of those things matter. Finally, after forced angry moments, Richard tells Junn the truth and then she gives some speech, and then essentially the film is over.

If you isolate moments in the film, such as when Richard tells Junn, "He (Kai)... was my life!" -- then, yes, there are a few powerful moments -- but very few.

Even if Hong Khaou (director/writer) borrowed elements of this story from his own personal experience, and/or of someone he knew -- it doesn't matter. Ultimately it was a bizarre weaving of cultures and languages and I did not feel there was a sense of resolution. Great that Richard finally told Junn the truth (and also that he apologized for not wanting to initially give her Kai's ashes, and then finally does), but... it really did not require a full film to have reached that point.

Also, the "B" story of Junn and Alan, which somehow bobbed to the top for the majority of the film, just wasn't that interesting or believable. Naomi Christie's role was essentially thankless and if she had stood up and stormed out after being mistreated, forcing Richard to use a bilingual dictionary or to somehow otherwise convey the truth of his life via visual aids (hello! the photographs you hid in the bedroom of you and Kai?), the film might have taken some interesting turns. But alas...

I can only assume that "Lilting" was used as the title because of a song that Junn likes that is featured at the top and tail of the film. The female vocalist's voice was indeed lilting, and perhaps, in some symbolic way, the filmmaker was attempting to use that term and the song to indicate the ebb and flow of life. If so, perhaps that might have been the one powerful thing in this movie, but only in a subtle way.

I do not see how anyone could call this film an "absorbing cinematic experience," nor rate it as a 10. I had great hopes for it, based on the trailer, but ultimately I was left with a very empty feeling at the end.

Beautiful

[pck_au · 9/10 · 25 August 2015]

Absolutely loved this movie. As a Australian Chinese with a family who speak a language other than English, this movie made me appreciate my relationship with my partner and his relationship with my parents even more. The music combined with the cinematography evoked profound emotions in the viewers. Ben Whishaw and Cheng Pei Pei gave stellar performances. The story is well told without too many dialogues, the acting says it all. Somethings are better left unsaid. Love it a lot!!! Watched it twice already and still want to watch it again!! It is quite a hidden gem. Glad I found it. Reminds me of another Asian gay themed movie called "Saving face" but a lot more sombre.

Wonderful film about cultural and language barriers and how this can stand in the way of relationships

[JvH48 · 8/10 · 19 May 2015]

Though being generally positive about this film, I must admit upfront that I had problems with its use of flashbacks featuring the deceased Kai. I only understood afterwards on the way home what I missed, while apparently easily picked up by others whose reviews I saw. The first example is the scene with Kai and Junn, shown twice, the first time ending when someone entered the room to replace a light bulb but does not see Kai, making clear for most viewers (apparently, but not for me) that Kai existed only in Junn's mind. The second appearance of this scene ended before the bulb-change person entered, so I had no chance to reconsider. Kai died some time ago, and I only knew that from reading the synopsis beforehand, and a virtual visit like this one was Junn's own way to keep the reminiscences of her son alive. A second example where I missed the obvious were the scenes with Kai and Richard at home, apparently (again, in hindsight) happening in the past, where they talk about living together with or without Junn, in either case how and when to reveal the true nature of their gay relationship. Rationally speaking (again, while looking back), it is abundantly clear that these flashbacks were inevitable to clarify the respective relationships. Yet I think there could have been thought of other ways to accomplish that, without hampering our chronological narrative way of thinking that usually works best. The way it is done now feels a bit artificial, and it hampered my viewing experience. I am prepared to admit that the latter can be my fault altogether.

Perfectly clear throughout the whole running time is that Junn and Richard belong to two different worlds. There is much more than merely a language barrier that withholds them from really communicating. The interpreter he hired, Vann, dismisses Junn's lack of knowledge of the English language, calling her a "lazy bitch" which was obviously a common phenomenon under female immigrants. On one hand they could depend on their spouse or children to interface with the outer world, and on the other hand it demonstrates Junn's bland refusal to adapt to the world where she lived in for many years. That also explains how the English way to take care of the elderly, being very different from her own traditions, stood between Junn and Kai for a long time, in spite of Kai repeatedly saying that the home for the elderly she was put in, was just a "temporary" measure. Anyway, Kai did not have to cope with a language barrier, and still failed to drive the message home, particularly as he kept postponing a decision to explain the real relationship between himself and Richard, fearing she would not understand and working disruptively on the relationship between mother and son.

A nice find is the introduction of Alan as Junn's would-be lover. They "dated" several times before, both without understanding a word what the other was saying. This courting formed an excuse for Richard to hire Vann as an interpreter, fitting nicely his own hidden agenda to come closer to Junn. The relationship between Alan and Junn changes as soon as their communication improved. It brings several differences to light, some not so important but others seemingly insurmountable. Junn is not the modest passive woman we assumed at first sight; she can make her position very clear when felt necessary.

The final scene demonstrates hope for their future. Junn and Richard seem to be able to communicate without interpreter Vann translating each sentence (this is rather implicit, but even I understood by virtue of their body language). We see a mutual trust and understanding growing between the two when exchanging sentences, in spite of not really knowing what the other was saying. I must admit being a bit lost during this final scene. It took some time on the way home to grasp all the things that were shown implicitly. The preceding scenes were abundantly clear in comparison, but this one needed some afterthought. We can imagine for ourselves how their relationship is about to continue, this being left as an exercise for the viewer.

Memorable Depiction of the Possible Irreconcilability of Cultural Differences

[l_rawjalaurence · 8/10 · 9 October 2014]

Superficially speaking, the subject of LILTING resembles that of LOST IN TRANSLATION (2003), as Junn, a Cambodian Chinese mother (Pei-pei Cheng) living in London mourns the loss of her son Kai (Andrew Leung), while trying and failing to communicate with those around her. Kai's boyfriend Richard (Ben Whishaw), wants to help her, and engages the service of Vann, a translator (Naomi Christie) so that communication between himself and Junn might be improved. Meanwhile Alan (Peter Bowles), an elderly man, embarks on his own pursuit of Junn's hand.

However Hong Khaou's film looks at the difficulties of communication at a much deeper level than the purely linguistic. He invites us to reflect on the wisdom of Kai's decision to put his mother in sheltered accommodation, whose dingy décor is designed to make elderly people 'feel better.' Despite Richard's basic kindness and his protestations of endless love for Kai, we wonder whether he actually understand what either Kai or Junn actually think. Maybe it's not really necessary to hire a translator: communication between individuals can take place at a subliminal level. Vann does her best to act as an intermediary between Junn and Richard, or Junn and Alan, but it's clear that her role is a peripheral one in the drama of familial relationships across cultures.

Shot in deliberately dark colors, LILTING depicts a world whose protagonists live in perpetual isolation, both literal as well as psychological. Junn's sheltered accommodation is both dark and prison-like; her fellow-residents seldom communicate except in clichés (Alan included). Richard's apartment is full of long, brick-lined passages; his kitchen is full of dirty cutlery, suggesting a fundamental inability to cope with life.

Our relationship with the two central protagonists is a complex one. Whishaw tries his best to render Richard a sympathetic character, but the more effort he makes to try and bridge the cultural differences separating himself from Junn, the more frustrated he becomes. His final outburst, where he accuses Junn of failing to "assimilate" to contemporary British cultures, is a classic colonialist statement, leaving us to reflect on why he himself did not do more to adapt himself to her mores. By contrast Junn remains both silent and serene; her final soliloquy reveals her determination to continue her existence, despite the prospect of future loneliness. She does not need to "assimilate"; she has found her own way to negotiate the culture she inhabits.

Modestly budgeted yet memorably staged by a director with an obvious affinity for the material, LILTING is an absorbing cinematic experience.

Love & the Art of Lilting

[amyrourke56 · 9/10 · 10 June 2015]

I loved every minute of this very rare jewel. It works so well on each degree of perception, from the base camp and practicality of needing a translator, to the use of fine photography in capturing the stillness and stultifying grief of both Jun and Richard, and on to the more complex tones and notes of dealing Kai's 'coming out' posthumously.

The notion of aged care homes being decorated in retro style is charming and works well with the contrasted scenes in Richard's flat. I note that Jun hates the wallpaper ~ the ghost of Oscar Wilde whispering in the hallway? It is great to see the Mandarin language use in an English film ~ another rarity?, along with the gorgeous use of the song 'Sway' and Jun's longing to hear it, the repeated promise from her son broken until Richard delivers the goods.

Warning: this film contains dancing.

"Lilting", a thought-provoking slice of cross-cultural life

[Medysofyan · 22 August 2015]

Lilting: (adj) pleasant rise and fall of the voice Like its title, this movie exhibits that spoken language can't be as good as emotions to connect two different people, who shares grief for the same person they love deeply.

Richard, a British guy, trying to communicate with Junn, a widowed Cambodian-Chinese woman who is the mother of his dead boyfriend, Kai. Richard intends to help Junn, who lives in London but doesn't have any other family taking care of her after Kai's death. It turns out to be difficult, because Junn doesn't speak English and she hates Richard for getting in between Kai and her. She doesn't know her son was gay, and Richard feels responsible to tell her because Kai was about to come out before he died.

To help oil the communication wheel, Richard hires translator, a Chinese descent girl named Vann. She helps translate for Alan, an old man who likes Junn and lives in the same nursing home. However, as Vann helps Richard talk to Junn, somehow the translator got carried away emotionally; she tries making Junn understand that Richard is the love of Kai's life, and the person who can get her son's attention as much as she does. And they need to help each other to move on.

I think the most fascinating element of this movie is that, despite the communication problem, eventually Richard and Junn manage to understand each other by showing their true feelings to Kai. Ben Wishaw has delivered impeccable performance as the achingly suppressed Richard. Every time I remember about Richard's face crumpled with grief, it saddens me. That's how good Wishaw's acting is. Hong Kong actress Cheng Pei-pei also succeeded to portray the stoic and conservative Junn.

The end of the movie is beautifully artistic, depicting Junn's true feeling and why she refuse to adapt to the new culture she's been facing for years. And like any good mother, she'll always love her son unconditionally. Here's Junn's great monologue toward the end of Lilting: Through plenty of crying, I've learnt to be content that I won't always be happy, secure in my loneliness, hopeful that I will be able to cope. Every year on Christmas Day I get very lonely. An incredible feeling of solitude. On this day, everything has stood still, even the trees have stopped rustling, but I'm still moving, I want to move, but I have nothing to move to, and nowhere to go. The scars beneath my skin suddenly surface and I get scared. Scared of being alone.

The sub-conflict between Junn and Alan – who get the benefit from the translator in the beginning but then stop after discover each other bad habits – adds humor to the gloomy story. In a nutshell, the first move of Cambodian-born British director Hong Khaou is a reflection of sensitive subjects, such as same-sex relationship, transcends through cultural barrels: it can be amusing, intense, and poignant. Hong did a tremendous job by making this debut looks personal and real, with the help of wonderful cinematography done by Urszula Pontikus and melancholic music by Stuart Earl.

More than just lost in translation

[Suradit · 5/10 · 25 December 2014]

Richard and Kai had been in love and living together for four years. Kai's widowed mother, Juun, although resident in England for many years, had neither assimilated in anyway nor had she acquired any ability to communicate in the English language. At one point, when relating her personal history, she explains somewhat sarcastically that five years after her husband and she had emigrated from Cambodia, "we were English."

While she is very much dependent on her son, she is supposedly unaware that he is gay and living with Richard in a relationship that is much more than a Platonic friendship. Kai places his mother in a senior home where she feels very much abandoned, betrayed and isolated. This arrangement is stressful to them all, especially because both his gay relationship and his apparent dumping of his mother in order to stay alone with Richard are at even greater odds in terms of Asian cultural expectations with regards to family. After much hesitation and worry, Kai invites his mother to come to his home to meet Richard and he plans to use this visit to "come out" to her. When he sets off to collect her from the seniors' facility and to bring her back to his home, he is killed in an accident.

Richard feels compelled to meet her and to help her find a way to get on with her life without her son to support her. He also feels that she needs to understand that Kai's death meant more to him than just the loss of a friend. Communication between Richard and Juun and between Juun and other residents of the home is virtually impossible, accentuating her isolation and further complicating Richard's desire to help her cope without Kai, as well as his wish that she understand what Kai's loss means to him.

A young woman becomes involved as a Cantonese/English translator to facilitate communication both between Richard & Juun and between Juun & Alan,a male resident of the seniors' home who wishes to develop a romantic long-term relationship with her. Obviously the translator's presence is meant to further emphasize the divide that exists between Richard and Juun as well as between Juun and everyone else.

While I understand that the difficulties of different cultures and languages between Alan and Juun were meant to even further underscore her isolation while an ever-present translator stands between them and the constantly hovering Richard floats about, it seemed that adding that complication to the mix was a somewhat heavy-handed, distracting and unnecessarily time-consuming addition to the story development.

It also seemed that Richard's character was inconsistently hesitant & often irritatingly inept most of the time, but occasionally overly angry and petulant, especially when it appeared the relationship between Juun and Alan was off. I understand that he was, in part, trying to be surrogate son in his effort to settle Juun into a life independent of her now absent son, but there might have been better ways to demonstrate Richard's frustration and despair.

It was a moving, calculated attempt to take on the complications of a man trying to juggle both a "modern" gay relationship while maintaining a traditional family relationship made all the more difficult by language & conflicting cultures, but I think it might have been better achieved with more time spent allowing us to see Richard and Kai during their relationship while they tried to come to terms with Juun as a factor in their lives. Alan could easily have been eliminated from the plot by assuming the viewer was capable of understanding Juun's isolation and dependence without having it beaten to death and dragged out to the extent that it was.

Good film if you understand the cultural subtext

[Gordon-11 · 31 January 2015]

This film tells the story of a white male meeting his late boyfriend's mother for the first time. This is complicated by the fact that the boyfriend's mother is Cambodian Chinese, and does not speak any English. With the help of a translator, they get through the language barrier - but not the cultural barrier.

"Lilting" is an ambitious attempt to portray the cultural differences at play in a modern relationship. The story places a lot of emphasis on the filial duties of a Chinese child, and the anger of the mother whose son does not fulfill the supposed filial duties. This is surely mystifying to Western viewers, and the film does not really explain it that clearly. As I do understand this cultural context, I empathise with the story.

Two things that bug me though, is that Kai looks so Caucasian. I have huge trouble in believing that he is only a quarter English. The second thing is that the mother says he feels lonely during Christmas, which is clearly a line aimed at Western viewers because she would the most likely not be celebrating Christmas. She would be way more likely to feel lonely during Chinese New Year.

Overall, "Lilting" is not for everyone. The pacing is slow, but if you understand the cultural subtext then you will empathise with the story a lot.

Probably the best one in its category!

[Glifada · 10/10 · 14 October 2015]

I have watched this movie several times and every time I tremendously enjoyed it: its theme, its ambiance, its atmosphere, its actors, its camera, its music, its dialogues, its editing, and most of all its directing…

For me, this is really a marvelous piece of art, so gentle, emotional, responsive, so well-balanced and, hence, so… beautiful!

This movie is the best example that a gay relationship and all contradictions with respect to it can be represented in a discrete, dignified and distinct way.

This is what makes this movie so different from all the others with a similar theme. Simply excellent: 10!

The art of language. Body language.....

[FlashCallahan · 8/10 · 12 April 2015]

A mother tries to come to terms with sudden loss, and attempt to understand who her son was, after his untimely death.

Her world is suddenly changed in more ways than one by the presence of his (unknown to her) lover.

Together, they attempt to overcome their grief whilst struggling against not having a shared language........

Although it's not the most cinematic experience you'll ever come across, Lilting is one of those movies where we have just a few characters in the film, but they hold you in awe for the duration.

If I were to some up the film in one word, it would simply be, Natural. There are times when you feel like your not watching a drama, you feel like you are there with Whishaw and Cheng, almost like some chaperone, but not knowing who for, as each are as equally grief stricken and strong at the same time.

There performances here are brilliant, and even though they communicate through a third party, the emotional connection is evident, and gets stronger and stronger as the film progresses.

Peter Bowles adds some much needed Comic Relief to the movie, but it's only subtle, and doesn't deter you away from the main narrative. Flashbacks flesh out the emotional depth of the characters, and there's one scene involving chopsticks and bacon, that had tears streaming down my face.

It's beautifully written, touching, romantic, funny, and heart-warming, but the clever thing is that it holds this air of tension as to how Cheng will react to the films fundamental revelation.

A hidden gem from 2014, really worth seeing.

About how communication is key to processing grief

[AlsExGal · 8/10 · 24 January 2023]

Directed by Hong Khaou, this is a quiet, reflective film about the shared grief between a mother who has lost her son, and the son's lover. Set in London, Cheng Pei-pei plays a Cambodian/Chinese immigrant, who, despite several decades of residence in London, has never really assimilated. Her son, played by Andrew Leong, is killed in an automobile accident. His lover Richard (Ben Whishaw) tries to help and console the mother as he deals with his own grief. But the mother, who lives in an assisted living facility, resists him. She's never learned English and only finds out after her son's death that Richard was more than just her son's friend. Lilting is a beautiful, sensitively shot film about how the inability to communicate exacerbates grief.

Hydrangeas has meanings, of course.

[bbbahrd · 8/10 · 7 September 2015]

Hydrangeas has two meanings in the language of flower. The flower was seen three times: twice mentioned its name by Kai, once shown at the end in which the mother was narrating.

One is the coldness/heartlessness and this represents the mother's hatred toward Richard or dissatisfaction caused by Kai at the beginning of and the middle of the movie.

Another meaning, is the giver's appreciation for the receiver's understanding: "Thank you for understanding." At the end of the movie where the mother and the flower were shown together, the flower tells the change of the mother's feeling and now the mother accepts what she faces. Thus, you might sense Kai's appreciation.

This sounds sort of distorted but I like to stick to this idea because it is simply beautiful.

Hope this surprises you.

the silence

[Kirpianuscus · 24 October 2015]

it is the basic ingredient. for looks, for gestures, for discover the film more than a gay story or clash between different cultures.because it has the gift to become translation of the history of the viewer. in the case of Lilting, the grace of image defines not only pieces of a puzzle but the rhythm of yourself discover. because it reminds profound relationships, the force of the past, the fears, the forms and nuances of love, the expectations, the role of the other to define things, words, decisions. a film about the transformation of solitude in a subtle friendship. delicate. impressive, touching and delicate. a film about escape from yourself. mark of a real interesting director.