It Could Have Been Great If It Wasn’t So Aimless

The opening scene of Jinho Myung’s debut feature Softshell starts at a Buddhist Thai temple in New York City, where Buddhist monks chant as visitors pray. Thai is spoken in the background, where you learn it’s a funeral for Thai American siblings Jamie (Caledonia Abbey) and Narin (Legyaan Thapa).

The siblings don’t seem to be bothered by their mother’s passing, wondering if they’ve become desensitized by death, in hopes that maybe they’ll process the grief by the end of the film. Instead, the death of their mother is never resolved, as it just serves as backstory to a larger picture that didn’t make too much sense.

Although life must go on after death, the siblings do their best by finding jobs – Jamie at the zoo and Narin at his jujitsu studio. The two characters are meant to be the focal point in the story, as there are moments of them staring into the camera to remind the viewers to pay attention to them.

Shot on a grainy 16mm film, the story strongly reflects an experimental arthouse style, adding some graphics and animation via a video game to enhance the story. At one point, the siblings are talking about a group of white guys who look sickly and almost like snakes, then showing the guys staring at the camera as they transform into snakes. Even with its avant-garde nature, the story worked when the siblings were together – their thoughts, conversations, and interactions with family and friends – because we were looking through their lens.

From meeting the strange clerk in the hotel room to fishing with a Southern Asian adoptee named Ken (a real person, not an actor), it all worked because the siblings were there to experience it. The audience got to go on their journey.

Though this is Abbey’s debut feature film, her portrayal of the awkward, introverted Jamie worked well. It helped that Abbey and Thapa have such strong chemistry that it was as if they’d known each other for years. Thapa is as charming as Narin, who seems to honestly care about his sister, which makes him believable as the annoying little brother. Also, from a cultural specificity standpoint, his connection to his Thai side is relatable as he speaks “Thaiglish” (a mixture of Thai and English) throughout the film, and the fact that he wants to be more active in his culture through Muay Thai.

However, everything falls apart when the focus moves onto different characters like Jamie’s boyfriend, David, or even his Asian roommate (played by Myung). Why should I care about these two side characters? The roommate provided some random insight on Asian fetishism after a hilarious encounter he had with a white woman who was obsessed with anime and K-pop. While the idea is funny and very realistic, having that added from a character we only met once was nonsensical. If they truly wanted to discuss this topic, Jamie herself should have faced this fetish challenge with David, who is white.

The film also tackles the desensitization of death through the killings of live animals being prepared for consumption. These animals are actually killed on screen as if to represent that this is a regular part of life. It’s alarming and grotesque for these scenes, especially the cutting of a live turtle’s neck, to get the point across when there could be other ways to explain the symbolism. Even after the slaughter of the animal, there’s no restitution for its owner or the audience. The film tries to justify the deaths in the end credits, revealing to the audience that all animals that were killed were done by a professional Michelin chef and consumed afterward.

Myung explained during a Q&A after the screening that he sought the idea of the killing of live animals on-screen after watching travel videos of people eating once-live animals and then people eating them. He was fascinated with the idea that these videos rarely received backlash because it was culturally appropriate. The animals’ deaths were meant to be objective, depending on the context shown – in this case, they were being prepared for a meal. Yet, that could be argued as the turtle was sought out as a pet rather than food, bringing an emotional connection for the character and the audience, as they watched it being maliciously killed. It felt more like an aimless shock value than providing depth to the story.

The film had a lot of potential, but lost its way when it tried too hard to be experimental and radical rather than emphasizing the two most interesting characters. The heart of the story is the siblings and their bond through the same tragedies and mental struggles of being Thai Americans and coping with the loss of their mother, who tied them to that identity. Understandably, the director wanted to explore many topics of death, fetishism, and cultural identity, but they felt misplaced and, at times, random. Yet, the worst of the criticisms had to be the snuffing of live animals on-screen, which proved too distracting to continue paying attention to the conclusion.

Softshell does end the way it began, with the siblings embracing over a death before moving on with their lives again. It would be a fitting and beautiful symbolic ending if the scene prior had not left a disturbing strain the way it did.

Note: Softshell was screened at the Los Angeles Asian Pacific Film Festival.