Esteemed film critic Roger Ebert once declared that movies are enormous empathy-generating machines, a statement I wholeheartedly embraced and there is no better demonstration of this phenomenon than with How to Make Millions Before Grandma Dies. The ups and downs of emotions and the rollercoaster of feelings was one hell of a ride!
Writer-director Pat Boonnitipat didn’t even try to reinvent the wheel. You know exactly what’s going to happen in the end; there’s no final miracle cure (I’m looking at you, Queen of Tears), there’s no “it’s always darkest before the dawn” ending and there’s no final twist (there is a twist of sorts, but Choo whispered to me what the twist will be an hour before it happened and of course he was right.
How does he do this every time?), but this is a testament to great storytelling in that you don’t need twists and turns, flashy cinematography, full orchestration, a CGI dream sequence or the whole shebang to serve up a delicious plate of feelings. It just takes authenticity without artifice.
The biggest appeal of the film is its relatability. If you are born into an Asian family with ancestral roots that extend beyond the ordinary, you will feel familiarity with all the characters. You might see manifestations of your kith and kin here – the long-suffering daughter, the son who thinks problems that can be solved with money are no problems, the calculating daughter-in-law, the useless son and the boy who has his eyes glued to the computer screen.
The story is fictional, but it feels real with its keen observation of family dynamics when the death of the matriarch is imminent and the vultures start circling. The grandmother is no fool, she knows why she is the centre of attention and even M is not spared when he tells her, “You too are sowing seeds in the hope of harvesting them, aren’t you?”
Credit must go to the actors who brought their characters to life. I am surprised that this is Usha Seamkhum’s first acting role. She is so natural, without a hint of artifice. Putthipong “Billkin” Assaratanakul is the perfect foil for Amah’s no-nonsense attitude to life. You’ll follow his arc with fervor knowing that he’ll figure out the ways of life, and when that time comes, it’ll be so subtle that you’ll know it’s an accumulation of Amah’s many interactions with him.
Though the plot is straightforward, I doubt anyone will find it boring. As it speeds toward the inevitable ending, it will happen: you’ll shed tears, but know that every rivulet will be well-deserved, as will every laugh. Incidentally, this is currently the highest-grossing film in Thailand and Indonesia, evidence that it has resonated with many audiences.
This is that rare film that Choo and I were still talking about over breakfast this morning, probably because we didn’t want the magic to dissipate, trying desperately to hold on to the vestiges of a heartfelt story. You might be surprised that we can still dig up vignettes of truth after a good night's sleep, like a quick scene of a wheelchair-bound monk in the chemotherapy clinic, as if to suggest that the disease affects everyone, including the pious religious, or the scene where Amah goes to meet her estranged brother to borrow money for a cemetery. My theory is that Amah already knows the outcome, but still wanted M to learn a hard life lesson.
School's out. Forget taking your kids to see the Garfield movie, take them to see it. Don't be ashamed to let them see you cry and laugh out loud. After the movie, sit somewhere and, over a hot drink, share stories about your mother, their grandmother. I think, for a few minutes, she'll be alive in everyone's memory.
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