Chris (Izaac Wang) – who goes by Wang Wang to his friends and Dìdi to his family – is stuck in the tempestuous summer between middle school and high school.  His sister, Vivian (Shirley Chen) is preparing to move to college while his mother, Chungsing (Joan Chen), and grandmother, Nai Nai (Zhang Li Hua), are constantly at odds on how to raise the children.  To escape the drama at home, he spends the summer afternoons getting into trouble with his friends, Fahad (Raul Dial) and Soup (Aaron Chang), while also trying to impress Madi (Mahaela Park), a girl from their class whom Chris has a major crush on. 

Writer/Director Sean Wang brought his semi-autobiographical coming-of-age tale, Dìdi, to the Sundance Film Festival where it won the U.S. Dramatic Audience Award as well as the Special Jury Award for Ensemble.  Instantly beloved, the 93-minute film came to theatres in the summer courtesy of Focus Features.  Set in 2008, the film is one of those modern period pieces that was certainly pulling deep from the font of memory, and the attention to detail – carefully curated by production designer Hanrui Wang – lends credibility to those in the audience within Wang’s relative age bracket while also being able to look back on the early teenage trends of the late aughts through a more mature lens that also welcomes in an older audience.  Despite the very singular source of inspiration, Wang sets Chris on a journey of self-discovery facing off against thematic challenges to which we can all relate. As the tagline portends, the film is “For anyone who’s ever been a teenager.” 

Leading the film is Chris who operates in just about every scene which is an incredible burden for any actor, but especially one who was born only a year prior to when the film was set and is asked to navigate through technology and trends that have long since moved on.  These films that are set in times that many in the audience can still remember are incredibly tough to get right as it is not some bygone era where some liberties can be taken and go unnoticed by the majority of the audiences. The younger Wang excels in the role, unafraid to present some of the thornier moments of early adolesce on screen as Chris struggles to find himself in an awkward time when technology was just beginning to be used to broadcast all of these cringeworthy moments of self-discovery.

What is most interesting about the film, though, is how the older Wang presents himself on screen. Much like how he views the fads through a lens of maturity, he also extends that maturity to how he handles this version of himself.  The story may be told through Chris’ perspective, but it is guided and informed by morals and norms the boy has not yet learned. The result is a shocking amount of deep introspection that causes us to reckon with times in our own lives when we were young and dumb and perhaps even a little mean. Wang does not seek to valorize Chris’ behavior, but he does help make sure audiences understand it so we do not view the boy as a brat but rather look at him with sympathy.  He is going through a lot over the brief course of the narrative, not to mention everything he was already trying to balance and make sense of before we became privy to his life, and while the film tends to leave him standing in a pile of smoldering rubble, it does not abandon him.  

Wang is supported by an all-around incredible, multi-generational, ensemble cast, but the major standouts here are the veteran Chen as his mother and the younger Chen as his sister.  Chen fills Chungsing with such tragic grace as a mother trying her best to keep the family together while her husband remains in Taiwan working and sending money back.  An artist, she struggles to find appreciation for her work from her son or the local art show, but her face lights up with humble joy when one of Chris’ friends mentions that he really likes the colors of her work.  Another instance is when she and Chris are sharing a meal and Chris begins to act out, chomping wildly with his mouth open.  Chen has this look on her face that is caught somewhere between love and loss because she wants to be there for her son, but she struggles to be able to connect with him in the way that he needs.  It is not because she is a bad mother – one could say on the contrary – but Chris is caught between multiple intersections in life at once and has no clue where to turn and left with no way of being able to understand the lifelines he is being thrown.  There are the obvious crossroads of puberty, transitioning to high school, raiding his sister’s closest so that he can change himself to fit in with Madi, or that he speaks almost purely in English, but Wang lays a subtle clue right in the very beginning dinner scene where Chris is the only one at the table eating with a fork instead of chopsticks.   

More obvious and better mended across the narrative is his relationship with his sister, Vivian, who starts out the film in a fierce sibling rivalry with her brother, but as college grows closer she begins to impart some wisdom that may or may not always be heeded.  It is a very sweet dynamic in that as Chris pushes away his closest friends from the beginning of the film, he finds refuge with Vivian.  Further, as things become more strained between their mother and grandmother, Chris often watches from a distance confused about the nuance of the argument, and Vivian, ever so slightly his senior, strives to shield him from the family feud so that he can still enjoy being a kid a little while longer.  What is so lovely about the script is that this is all told through action, and it does not stop to belabor each gesture his sister takes.  While Sam A. Davis’ camera is free to move around in the scene and change angles or points of view often, we always retain that feeling of being a fly on the wall, witnessing everything but unable to intervene. 

Unfortunately, that same unspoken aspect that makes Dìdi great also means that it shies away from opportunities to really dig into the emotional text resulting in some tonally uncomfortable and downright odd sequences; mostly those shared between Chris and his mother.  Every time it tiptoes up to the point of a breakthrough, the film undercuts itself with a bizarre sense of humor that, had it not happened every time would have been fine, but the cycle repeats one too many times for audiences desperate for catharsis.  It all comes back to that Wang is not letting Chirs off the hook easily for his actions.  Chungsing gets her moment to make amends late in the film with her son in a very poignant sequence after he returns from running away, but Chris’ moment of catharsis is much angrier.  His mother’s moment comes in answer to his outburst, but it is really hard to believe that a boy as scared as Chris is in these private moments does not have enough discipline to conjure up an apology or even just try to apply some words to create a vague form of what is fueling his behavior.  Throughout the film, Wang has been unafraid to make Chris sit in the consequences of his actions, but when given the chance to tell his younger self some bit of sage advice or to show himself grace enough to unlock what has been troubling him, he falters. 

Dìdi is still a wonderfully realized film and an absolute delight.  It is a simple idea, but follows a lackadaisical structure leaving it almost formless and at times, difficult to keep involved with because of its shapelessness.  Wang finds every opportunity, though, to strike the iron in the narrative and give us these small goals to be working towards; a relationship with Madi, impressing the older skaters, and discovering filmmaking.  It is in these same moments that something unlocks inside of Chris, and he finally has goals to work towards.  We see a fire in him and that he is not just an aimless youth left to wander, but insulated and helpless from our position in the theatre, we want to reach out and guide him; not that he would be likely to take it.  While the film still ends clouded by the chaos of a falling out between mother and son, Wang again opts for silence in this final scene at the dinner table and somehow we know that everything is going to turn out alright.