Rosemead: Lucy Liu’s Bleak Drama Struggles to Find Its Voice
Lucy Liu leads Rosemead, a sombre true-life drama tackling mental health and family tragedy. Does this indie film offer fresh insight, or does it fall into familiar melodramatic traps? Read on to discover more.
Bringing a story about cancer or a school shooting to the screen is no easy feat, especially when so many previous films have already explored these themes with nuance and depth. The challenge lies in avoiding repetition and offering something genuinely new. Rosemead, an independent production fronted by Lucy Liu, finds itself wrestling with this very problem. While it attempts to shed light on the often-ignored mental health struggles within Asian-American families, the rest of the narrative rarely manages to distinguish itself.
The Story Behind Rosemead
Inspired by real events, the film centres on Irene, played by Lucy Liu, who is left to pick up the pieces after her husband’s passing. Her son, Joe (Lawrence Shou), is particularly affected, his schizophrenia worsening as Irene herself battles cancer. The pair struggle to connect, yet Irene is determined to maintain Joe’s reputation in their local community.
Despite support from friends and mental health professionals, Joe’s condition soon becomes overwhelming for Irene. Cultural expectations make her reluctant to seek further assistance, and when she receives devastating news, she decides to take matters into her own hands.
Managing Tone and Tragedy
The misfortunes that befall Irene and Joe were widely reported at the time, and the sheer volume of hardship they endure can feel almost excessive. If this were a work of fiction, one might accuse the writer of being unnecessarily cruel to their characters.
Instead, Rosemead needs to embrace these moments.
Yet, as the narrative unfolds, director Eric Lin struggles to prevent the relentless facts from becoming overpowering. The result is a viewing experience that is not only difficult but also lingers long after the credits roll. Even with a flawless script and outstanding performances, the film would remain unremittingly bleak.
Unfortunately, the script is far from perfect. Lin and Marilyn Fu attempt to navigate the emotional minefield, but the story soon veers into the territory of an after-school special. With so many threads to untangle, Rosemead fails to devote enough attention to any single issue, instead dwelling on the family’s misfortune and relying on a sense of impending doom to drive the drama.
Portrayals and Performances
To its credit, the film offers a fairly authentic depiction of schizophrenia. While the use of whispering voices in certain scenes feels a touch uninspired, the camera’s perspective—sometimes objective, sometimes third-person—allows viewers to see how those around Irene and Joe perceive the situation. This approach provides a more nuanced understanding of the family’s ordeal.
Lucy Liu’s performance appears designed to position her for awards consideration. She fares better in the film’s final act, convincingly portraying a woman at her wit’s end. However, her earlier scenes come across as rather flat, making some emotional moments feel forced and pushing the film towards melodrama reminiscent of a daytime television drama.
Lawrence Shou, on the other hand, is a genuine discovery. He brings humanity to a role that could easily have slipped into stereotype, eliciting real empathy from the audience. Although the script occasionally infantilises his character, Shou’s portrayal remains compelling, particularly in moments of silent anguish.
Supporting Cast and Overall Impact
The supporting actors, including Orion Lee and James Chen, are given little opportunity to make an impression, their roles too limited to leave a mark. Madison Hu shares a few notable scenes with Shou, but again, the lack of screen time prevents her character’s pain from resonating. As the film progresses, the focus narrows almost exclusively to Liu and Shou, to the detriment of the wider story.
Regrettably, Rosemead is an example of a well-intentioned project that fails to bring its many elements together. The neglect of mental health issues among teenage boys and within the Asian American community is a significant concern, but the true story at the heart of the film is simply too overwhelming. Attempting to address so many weighty topics in a single ninety-minute feature leaves little room for nuance or reflection. The result is a film that feels like awards bait, but offers little else.