Why Lucy Liu's Newest Film Fails Its Powerful True Story

Tackling stories of immense tragedy, like those involving terminal illness or severe mental health crises, is a huge challenge for any filmmaker. There's a fine line between honoring the subject and creating something that feels exploitative or unoriginal. Rosemead, a new independent film starring Lucy Liu, unfortunately stumbles into this very problem. While it deserves credit for shining a light on the often-ignored mental health struggles within Asian-American families, the movie ultimately feels too familiar and fails to deliver a compelling narrative.

A Story of Compounding Tragedy

The film is based on the harrowing true story of Irene (Lucy Liu), a woman whose life unravels after her husband's death. The loss hits her son, Joe (Lawrence Shou), particularly hard, triggering a severe decline in his mental state as schizophrenia takes hold. As if that weren't enough, Irene is also battling a devastating cancer diagnosis. The two are unable to truly connect through their shared pain, and Irene pours all her energy into maintaining a positive image of her son in their community, even as his condition worsens.

Despite seeking counseling and having friends who try to help, Joe's illness becomes more than Irene can manage on her own. Cultural pressures add another layer of complexity, making her reluctant to ask for the help she desperately needs. When she receives terrible news about her own health, Irene feels cornered and decides to take drastic action.

A Bleak Narrative That Misses the Mark

The real-life events that inspired the film are so relentlessly tragic that they almost defy belief. If this were a work of fiction, one might accuse the writer of being excessively cruel to their characters. The movie needed to handle these moments with incredible care, but director Eric Lin struggles to keep the story from becoming completely overwhelming. The result is a viewing experience that is not just unpleasant but also emotionally draining, leaving a sour taste that lingers long after the credits roll. Even with a flawless script, the film's tone would be incredibly difficult to balance.

The screenplay, however, is far from perfect. Lin and co-writer Marilyn Fu attempt to navigate a difficult subject, but the execution often feels like a made-for-TV movie. With so many heavy themes to juggle—grief, mental illness, cultural stigma, terminal disease—Rosemead can't devote enough time to any single one to explore it with the depth it deserves. Instead, the film wallows in its own misery, using the constant threat of what might happen next as its primary source of dramatic tension.

Acting Can't Save a Flawed Script

At times, Rosemead feels engineered to be an Oscar showcase for Lucy Liu. Her performance is certainly an improvement over some of her past roles, particularly in the film's final act. As the pressure mounts and her character is visibly crushed by the weight of her circumstances, Liu is quite effective. However, for the first half of the movie, her portrayal comes across as flat rather than intentionally subdued. This makes her later emotional outbursts feel somewhat unnatural, pushing the story into the kind of melodrama you'd expect on a weekday afternoon.

The real discovery here is Lawrence Shou. He delivers a nuanced performance of a disorder that has often been reduced to harmful stereotypes on screen. Shou brings a deep humanity to the role, making the audience genuinely empathize with his character's plight. The script occasionally infantilizes Joe, but even in those scenes, Shou’s thousand-yard stare conveys a profound sense of inner turmoil that works incredibly well. The supporting cast, including Orion Lee and James Chen, are given so little to do that they barely register. This structural choice to isolate Irene and Joe ultimately weakens the film.