Details you might have missed from ‘The Farewell’

All opinions are my own, not those of my employer.

Each time I re-watch The Farewell, I am struck by how well the film captured the zeitgeist of returning to China as an ABC in the 90s — aughts. The director, LuLu Wang, authentically brought to life moments that were so specific to those years. I share some of my favorite scenes below, and I hope they inspire you to watch this brilliant film!

The Apartment Blocks (14:05)

Billi has just de-planed in Changchun and takes a cab to her grandparents’ house. She sees massive, copy-cat apartment blocks that dominate the skyline.

These Soviet-style constructions were jarring to someone who grew up in the States. Home ownership in the US embodies individualism. I grew up with dreams of a 2-story Craftsman in the burbs with a spacious green lawn and custom paint jobs. When faced with row upon row of collectivist housing, my gut reaction was one of repulsion. Millions of families, just like mine, reduced to tiny windows in soulless architecture.

Zeitgeist no more: As China began hosting more of the world’s major events, builders kicked off a new architectural wave in many 1st tier cities in China. Color and unique, modern features have become staples of new construction.

Questions From The Receptionist (24:18)

Billi checks into her hotel and is peppered with questions from the receptionist.

When China’s GDP was exploding at the beginning of the 21st century, there was a pervasive, competitive, little brother syndrome that permeated conversations between ABCs and natives. Cab drivers wanted to know if I had driven across longer bridges in America, waiters wanted to know if I found the food in China better — every encounter could feel like an exhausting oscillation between empathy for their questions and defensiveness for the country I grew up in and loved.

Zeitgeist no more: As China has gained more equal footing with the US and record amounts of Chinese citizens have traveled abroad, these conversations have all but disappeared in larger cities.

Mahjong Madame (43:30)

At a restaurant, after the family wraps an intense night of debate over whether they should have left China years ago, Billi peeks through an open door and makes eye contact with a prostitute.

The pensive look on Billi’s face is a familiar one. In the States everyone who looked like me was studying hard, going to college, or competing for a high-income white-collar job. Upon returning to China, for the first time in my life, I saw people that looked like me who were on very different paths. I started to imagine what might have been had my family stayed. I wondered what my occupation would be, if I would be happy. One summer I interned in Beijing and took the subway to work each morning; I lived a thousand lives before my morning commute was over.

Zeitgeist no more: As relations flourished between the two countries in the aughts, many ABCs started to build businesses, visit family, and even return to work in China.

Smoke Wreathes Through The Air (66:56)

Billi is lying in bed at her hotel and watches smoke wreath through the air and into her room.

Since the 1970s the US has taken a strong anti-tobacco stance, and growing up here I was trained to view cigarette smoke as something deeply unpleasant and to be avoided. In China, especially in the 90s, cigarettes were everywhere. At hotels there was no difference between smoking and non-smoking rooms. When I stepped on the carpet in certain venues I could swear I saw a plume of ash rising. Cigarette butts lined most street gutters, and everyone’s place mat at dinner had an ash tray. I would take a bite of duck one moment and inhale second hand smoke the next. The smoke seeped into my pores and felt truly inescapable.

Zeitgeist no more: As knowledge and awareness of the negative impacts of smoking rose throughout the aughts, Chinese cities implemented anti-smoking laws.

War Buddies Reminisce (73:40)

Billi listens in, equal parts amused and shocked, as her grandmother’s friends reminisce about the war.

In the States, I grew up learning about American heroes; my friends had grandparents who stormed the beaches of Normandy. I was told that Americans fought for democracy in the jungles of Vietnam and beat back the North Koreans to the 38th parallel for the betterment of the entire world. The other side, whether it was gooks or japs, were faceless, nameless, communists. Then I returned to China and heard my grandma talk about her war stories for the first time. I heard them joke and laugh about funny moments, but also describe in graphic detail the surgeries they performed on disfigured children as American napalm melted entire villages. She described fighting alongside Koreans for the betterment of the entire world, and suddenly history was disorienting. Who did I support? Who was right?

Zeitgeist no more: As China’s population continues to age, these stories and the disorienting moments that follow are decreasing in number.