Brief History of a Family

I came to Jianjie Lin’s Brief History of a Family knowing only that it was described as a taut thriller, but that does not quite describe what I discovered.

Odd kid out at high school Shuo (Sun Xilun) befriends Wei (Lin Muran) and finds himself becoming a part of Wei's family, as his presence strips bare their relationships.

Where Brief History of a Family is going becomes very clear very quickly and so it immediately must answer the question: will it be obvious? This is a classic "cuckoo in the nest" story, so there we have a clear narrative path of a young man who is pathological or psychopathic or (insert term of choice) casually going about deconstructing a family unit. Thus the film has arguably a very uphill climb in order to make the story fresh, to have the characters resonate. The reason why Brief History of a Family succeeds is that it makes it up this incline.

I’d argue that if anything Brief History of a Family is a suspenseful chamber drama more than a thriller, but the thriller aspect is more about how the film grabs you.  Anyone expecting an out-and-out thriller may be somewhat disappointed, but someone approaching the film as an adjacent take on the cuckoo in the nest story or of a compelling, intense and stylish drama will be very satisfied indeed.

The ultimate question of why the film works is simple and importantly that it retains ambiguity until the very end. If you think of most cuckoo movies there is always a reveal moment, wherein the motivation is revealed (often in flashback from alternative viewpoints). However, Brief History of a Family does something very different; it introduces the quiet, studious teenager Shuo into a very well-off family, who live in a very upperclass apartment block thank you very much, and we never know if he is sincere or manipulative. We are given no hints whatsoever and are left to construct in our own minds the what and the why, if any.  

We learn about Shuo’s past... or do we? After the first few minutes of the film when we see him at school we almost never see him outside of his friend Wei’s family unit. We only know what Shuo tells us. Is he telling the truth or lying? We have no reason to know either way. You can argue maybe one scene perhaps gives a key or else that it proves that his past is what he says it is. Equally, visually, the film may suggest hints but how we should interpret them is down to the viewer. Wei’s father (Zu Feng) is a biologist and often we see images either under, or as if under, a microscope and once we witness a cell being absorbed into another, or is it infiltrating another? You can read it either way. The perfection of the ambiguity ensures that even as the film ends you have no real definitive answer. I honestly didn’t expect the film to commit to the ambiguity, I kept waiting for the reveal and was so very glad when it never arrived.

Why? Because it makes all the scenes that emerge to be the more meaningful. As we first meet Wei’s family, as Shuo is invited to an awkward dinner (is he lying here, too? Who can say?), we see a family that seems to be equally as difficult, possibly as disconnected from one another, as Shuo is awkward. Wei just wants to play video games and has no interest in studying; the father is distant; Wei’s mother (Guo Keyu), the ex-air hostess seems to be reduced to a mother who does nothing but nag. There is no obvious warmth or love. Yet as Shuo enters, he manages to inveigle himself... or does he reveal aspects... of the parents, because he is more what they would want in their own son than they see in Wei. One evening Shuo asks Wei’s mother what her favourite fruit is, but she struggles to answer because the idea that anyone would take an interest in her is alien. She is no longer a person but a mother and someone who produces food for her husband. That she might like pineapples seems a struggle and then there is the surprise when Shuo orders one for her. Why should someone do something for her? Then we see her buy oranges for Shuo (it reminds him of his mother) in a scene that is almost the most fruit porn scene you have ever seen.  

Shuo also finds in Wei’s father a person who he can communicate with, ironically perhaps because their (if true) similar backgrounds. Shuo can also talk to him about their shared passion for Bach.

Yet this is also background for allowing relationships to slowly untangle, so that Wei’s parents, who seem cold start with, come into human focus and we see how China’s old one child policy has hurt them. Equally how Wei reacts to Shuo’s entry into his home changes. Is this because Shuo is dangerous or just taking over his family? In a way it doesn’t matter because you can understand why Wei might resent Shuo, who seems to be gaining all his parent’s affections. He is not the child with the aspirations they might want for him. yet he has his own dreams. They just do not connect.  

As the story unfolds, the images are often very precisely composed, sometimes arguably a little too composed. One elegantly swift late scene with Wei fencing adds some needed energy, but the visuals are elegant yet rarely waver even if they tend towards chilly and muted colours. However the colour palette suits the film as we should never feel too warm in the uncertain world into which Shuo walks.

Brief History of a Family hits UK cinemas 21st March

Screener courtesy of Blue Finch Film Releasing