Lucy Liu is an actress who I feel has been taken for granted. I include myself inself in that, only really seeing her as someone who excels at action-comedy or as a supporting player. Perhaps it’s time to change that perception, and the film that could change a lot of minds about her is Rosemead. Delivering the performance of her career, Liu is quietly devastating as a widow, mother, and immigrant who has already lost so much, and is on the verge of losing everything.
Directed by Eric Lin and penned by Marilyn Fu, based on real events chronicled in a 2017 LA Times piece, Rosemead begins with a happy memory. A family of three dances together, carefree, with the warm glow of their love for one another lighting up the motel room. We know, instinctively, that there won’t be many more moments like this. In the present, Irene (Liu) is barely holding it together. A Chinese immigrant still mourning the death of her husband, Irene puts all of her energy into two things: her print shop, and her 17-year-old son Joe (Lawrence Shou). Once a bright student and talented athlete, he is a shadow of his former self due to schizophrenia that took hold following his father’s death.
Irene makes sure Joe takes his medication and goes to his therapy sessions. But there’s tension between them. Irene has a secret that she’s carrying. Her cancer has returned, and it’s terminal. The time she has to get Joe settled and to the point he can take care of himself is running short, and he seems to be backsliding rather than improving. Adding to the stress is Joe’s 18th birthday, when he becomes an adult, and his disturbing manic episodes can no longer be overlooked by the law.
Rosemead doesn’t sugarcoat anything. That’s one of the refreshing things about it. Irene is facing multiple crises with no easy solutions or no solutions at all. Even as she takes an experimental drug and momentarily feels positive about the outcome, the reality is that it’s unlikely to work. Not only that, but the system in place to help Joe is failing him. For Irene, a simple woman with not a lot of money or resources, this only adds to the burden. Liu’s performance is extraordinary here. She practically shrinks into the scenery as Irene shuts herself out from the rest of the world, denying herself of any happiness.
Shou is also really strong as Joe, delivering a performance that requires him to portray a person struggling with inner demons and external pressures. The film subtly suggests the trauma of school shootings, as Joe becomes fixated on a mass shooter seen on TV news reports. He freaks during an active shooter drill and it drives him to take an even keener interest. The air of dread around this fascination teases something horrific, but Lin handles it with sensitivity and care.
Rosemead builds slowly, steadily increasing Irene’s desperation until she’s forced to make a fateful decision that feels painfully inevitable. This isn’t the kind of movie you watch for fun. It’s got tough questions and no easy answers. It’s going to be triggering for a lot of people. But it’s also human and extraordinarily moving. Hopefully, Lucy Liu will get more opportunities like this one because she’s more than earned it.
Rosemead opens in DC on January 9th.