Yi Yi

* This review contains heavy spoilers from the fourth paragraph onward. Read at your own discretion. * I may be slightly biased toward Edward Yang's Yi Yi. Having spent my first six years in Taiwan, I recognize many of its filming locations. The opening and closing scenes were shot on the university campus where my kindergarten was located. The wedding ceremony, with its iconic elevator sequence, took place at the Grand Hotel in Taipei, a place my extended family frequented for dinner almost weekly. There's even a scene where Yang-Yang stands on the hotel lobby stairs, the same stairs where my grandfather once taught me to walk. In many ways, I’ve lived parts of Yi Yi literally, with some of my most cherished memories tied to the very settings the film portrays. A certain sadness washes over me whenever I see stills or hear the soundtrack of Yi Yi. Despite this personal connection, Yi Yi is undeniably a masterpiece, the final film directed by the great Edward Yang before his untimely passing from cancer. Whether or not Yang was diagnosed during filming, the film feels like his farewell, intentional or not. The film refines and expands on themes Yang explored in his earlier works: Taiwanese identity, Confucian family values, the interplay of life’s joys and inevitable sadness, and the unspoken emotions that define Taiwanese and East Asian society: silent sadness, anger, happiness, and disappointment. Yang's signature understated tone -- in plot, sound, and cinematography -- reaches perfection in Yi Yi, which explores the stages of life: from childhood curiosity to teenage self-discovery, to middle-aged regret, and finally to a life lived in contentment. At the heart of the film is the comatose family matriarch, the grandmother of Ting-Ting (the teenage daughter) and Yang-Yang (the young boy), and the mother of Min-Min (NJ’s wife). She is briefly seen alive during the wedding preparations, but for the rest of the story, she lies silently in bed as the family speaks to her at the doctor's suggestion, hoping their words will wake her. Despite her lack of dialogue, the grandmother serves as a mirror, reflecting the characters’ struggles and forcing them to confront their unrealized dreams. Her presence exudes quiet wisdom, symbolizing grace and acceptance. Yang-Yang’s poignant line at the film’s end -- “...you always said you felt old” -- suggests that wisdom comes from living fully. Her passing is not an end but a transition to peace. The most central character is NJ, the son-in-law of the comatose mother and father to Ting-Ting and Yang-Yang. His arc focuses on the realities of middle-aged life: regret, nostalgia, and acceptance. Deeply unhappy with his work, particularly the inconsistent success of his company, NJ often escapes into his music, his earbuds a means of shutting out reality. However, when he runs into his first love, Sherry, in the elevator of the Grand Hotel, nostalgia sparks within him. He longs to relive the past, even make it his present. Their reunion leads to a trip to Japan, where they reminisce and realize that despite their deep connection, their lives have unfolded as they were meant to. When Sherry breaks down due to NJ’s emotional distance, NJ sadly confesses, "I never loved anyone else." Borrowing from In the Mood for Love, "looking through a dusty window pane," NJ sees the past clearly, but he cannot touch it; it "is blurred and indistinct." Later, NJ tells his wife, "I had a chance to relive part of my youth. My first thought was that I could make things turn out differently, but they turned out the same. I suddenly realized that even if I was given a second chance, I wouldn’t need it. I really wouldn’t." NJ's business relationship with Ota serves as one of the film’s most significant arcs, shedding light on the harsh realities of fate and capitalism. What begins as a simple business dinner evolves into a meaningful conversation, revealing their strikingly similar personalities and worldviews. In another life, they could have been best friends. However, fate intervenes when NJ’s company rejects Ota's proposals in favor of a cheaper, less risky option. The silent anger and sadness that permeate Yi Yi are palpable when NJ receives a call instructing him to return from his Japan trip because the company chose the cost-effective offer. This moment starkly illustrates how society reduces relationships to transactions, where emotions and connections become secondary to profit. Min-Min, NJ’s wife, disappears for much of the film after a powerful conversation with her comatose mother. Realizing the monotony of her life, she leaves for a Buddhist retreat, hoping to find clarity. When she returns for the funeral, she admits the retreat hasn’t changed her circumstances. Like her husband, she accepts that while life may not have turned out as imagined, there is still gratitude in the comfort and stability they share. A-Di, Min-Min’s younger brother, is grappling with responsibility and self-worth. His marriage begins under a cloud of doubt, fueled by rumors that he married his fiancée only because she was pregnant, and his failed business ventures lead him to financial ruin. A-Di’s arc portrays the relentless spiral of failure and self-doubt, highlighting his fear of moving forward. His ex-girlfriend, a recurring presence in the film, serves as a "what-if", and a theme that resonates throughout Yi Yi. Though she frustrates, her role is complicated by the fact that she was the grandmother’s favorite, subtly suggesting that she may have been better suited for A-Di, adding tension to his character. Ting-Ting’s arc would have been weaker without a significant plot twist. She embodies the quintessential Yang archetype: a teenager searching for identity while struggling to connect meaningfully with others. Her friendships are awkward, and her trusting, innocent nature often leaves her vulnerable to hurt. Her guilt over not taking out the trash, believing it led to her grandmother’s stroke, fuels her kindness, but it also highlights her naivety. Ting-Ting’s first experience with love and heartbreak is juxtaposed with NJ and Sherry’s teenage romance, capturing the bittersweet loss of innocence and painful maturation. By the end, Ting-Ting has begun to find her footing, set on the path toward adulthood with newfound self-awareness and strength. Yang-Yang, the youngest, is an audience favorite, and it's easy to see why. Cute and curious, he embodies youth’s eager spirit, constantly seeking answers to endless questions. Misunderstood by the adults around him, he represents the disconnection many of us felt as children, with us out of sync with grown-ups. What adults might label as mischievous is simply playful curiosity. Rebellious acts are not truly rebellious; they are explorations. There is fear in stepping into the unknown, but also the excitement of trying something new. Yang-Yang captures the irreplaceable thrill of experiencing something for the first time: popping a balloon, swimming, skipping school, or having a crush. Yet beyond his youthful energy, Yang-Yang embodies the beginning of life’s cycle. As children, we’re aware that time is fleeting, but we often fail to realize how little of it we have, taking youth for granted. Yang-Yang represents the stage many of the characters in Yi Yi yearn to return to: the innocent joy of living without responsibilities. Despite his youth, Yang-Yang is one of the wisest characters in the film. When he says, "but Grandma, I know so little," his wisdom is evident. After being mocked by his teacher for taking pictures of the backs of people’s heads, Yang-Yang later explains that he does so to show what others can’t see: both sides of a story, the hidden emotions, and the hidden self. "I want to tell people things they don’t know. Show them stuff they haven’t seen," he says. Though his youth is fleeting, Yang-Yang understands its value, knowing that as he grows older, he cannot return to it. Yet, he is excited for what lies ahead, eager for the wisdom that life will bring. In a perfect full-circle moment, he tells his grandmother about his newborn cousin, "I want to tell him that I feel old, too." 96 Story & Pacing: 18/20 Characters & Acting: 19/20 Themes: 49/50 Cinematography & Editing: 5/5 Soundtrack & Sound: 4/5 Memorability: 1/1