The Home Song Stories

The Home Song Stories made its debut at the Berlin Film Festival earlier this year, and I've waited a long time for it to come to our shores. A joint Singapore-Australian production, it's an autobiographical story of writer-director Tony Ayres' childhood, of what he remembers about his mother, a songstress who uprooted her children and migrated from Hong Kong to Australia, and their struggles to etch a living surviving in a strange land.

When watching the film, I can't help but to remember Alfonso Cuaron's Great Expectations, where Ethan Hawke's Finn narrated a line early in the movie, stating quite clearly he's not going to tell the story the way it happened, but rather he's telling it the way he remembered it. And this rings very true in Ayres' Home Song Stories. Stories from within are always heartfelt and sincere, and that's what this movie brings across - the feeling that it's from deep down, and that of honesty. Like how the movie started with the Chinese oldie "Bu Liao Qing", mirroring the style the story was told and the narrative being measured, powerful, and very meaningful.

What made it work was the excellent acting all round. Of late I've enjoyed Joan Chen's movies these days, compared to her earlier works (like Judge Dredd or On Deadly Ground). Aging like fine wine, her maturity brings about certain gravitas and also likability as she takes on more adult roles, and it's no doubt my favourites were her motherly roles in Saving Grace, Jasmine Women, and now, Home Song Stories. Here, she plays Rose, one who lives on the fast lane in Hong Kong, with some untold secrets from the past. In order to give her two children the best life she could, she milks her looks for what it's worth because of her lack of ability and skill, and for some reason, succumbs to her weakness for men quite easily, falling fast and falling hard, flitting from man to man, being unlucky in love, and providing some headache and embarrassment for her children, who do not know what to make out of the "Uncles" that come through the door.

And Qi Yuwu, no doubt bolstered by his cinematic appearance in 881, gets a meatier role with dialogue. He stars as Joe the illegal immigrant, the young man whom Rose falls for, and becomes surrogate father to her children, and yet, having this threatening air that he has some ulterior motives set on Rose's daughter May (Irene Chan). You might think he's a cad, what with his 70s look and that glint in the eye, but overall, he's someone whom you'll compare with Bill (Steven Vidler), the Australian sailor whom Rose comes to Australia for. Putting both Bill and Joe side by side and the choice is obvious for Rose, but alas, the ditzy indecisiveness of womanhood causes great despair amongst her loved ones.

More so for her son Tom, played by Joel Lok. The narrative stems from his point of view, and Lok is the absolute winner here, in fleshing out Tom, the kid who lives in his fantasies, a form of escapism to a very confused childhood. You might think that he's able to take the blows in his stride, but I guess everyone, including a kid, has his own patience. You feel his pain, his confusion, his tears as he struggles to understand his mother's actions. He loves her, yet hates her, and Lok displays a masterful performance here that you might think he's a veteran. This kid's charming, pure and simple.

There are many plus points in this movie which makes it exquisite, and the wonderful songs used accentuates the era of that time perfectly. What made it work too was that the characters aren't forced to speak only one language, highlighting their multi-lingual nature quite naturally as they converse in Cantonese, Mandarin and English, which makes it seem more realistic rather than staged. It showcases growing pains really well, of relationships amongst siblings and with a single parent, and what I thought was one of the most powerful run up to an unforgettable scene, was a reminder that when dealing with people, to always be mindful of the hateful words we use. They might be said in the fit of a moment, but they always hurt bad, because everyone has feelings. Like the Chinese saying goes, once it's uttered, it's extremely difficult to retract, and the consequence of it could be damaging or devastating.

At its core, The Home Song Stories evokes painful memories, but also brings about the notion of forgiveness, remembering and honouring those memories. A mother's love knows no bounds, even if she behaves in a manner you cannot quite grasp at the moment. Stay tuned when the end credits roll, as you get to see a little more of Ayres' life and times, and of course, his real mother, put together in a photo montage. This is one movie which you definitely must watch this week. Highly recommended!

Tony Ayres has tackled some tough subjects in the past (AIDS and mercy killing in"Walking on Water" for example), but making a film about his relationship with his own mother seems a real challenge. Ayres' mother, fictionalised as Rose in the film and played by Joan Chen, was a beautiful nightclub singer in Hong Kong, who, more or less on a whim, migrates to Melbourne with her two young children and Bill, an Australian sailor (Steven Vidler). Rose and Bill marry, but Rose walks out after a week. Seven years later they get together again, but Bill is soon off on another extended tour of Naval duty and his malicious mother Norma drives Rose and the children, ten year old Tom (Joel Lok) and 14 year old May (Irene Chen) out of the house. Desperate, Rose and the children go to live in squalor with Joe (Yu Wu Qi) a handsome young illegal immigrant from Hong Kong who works in the same restaurant as Rose (who has been reduced to washing dishes there.). Initially Joe is besotted by Rose, but when he starts taking a romantic interest in May, Rose, as she is wont to do, overreacts.

As the story is told largely through the eyes of a ten-year old, we have to remember that, smart kid that he is, there is much he does not understand. Late in the film, in a conversation between Rose and May, we do get some of Rose's story and why she looks for security from just about any man who offers it. Looking back, the adult Tom can see clearly what at the time was a mystery. And of course he can now forgive Rose for the trauma she caused him.

This is a sad story, but uplifting rather than depressing. Joan Chen, a world-class actress, is perfectly cast and totally convincing as the beautiful but neurotic Rose. Yu Wu Qi is excellent as her younger lover, but first time actor Joel Lok (who volunteered himself for the role) takes first prize for a truly Zen – like performance as Tom. Kerry Walker was a suitably disapproving Norma and Steven Vidler an eager and naïve Bill.

For a low budget "art" film, this is very well produced, with a fine original score, professional cinematography and excellent performances, though the script does not allow Kerry Walker and Steve Vidler to do much. Most of us survive our parents, and Tony Ayres and his sister have survived theirs, but I think you can't really pass judgment on them until you have had children yourself. And then it is easier to forgive.

I don't want to go into extravagant detail as the other comments are fairly thorough.

I want to add to the pool of comments that if you happen to have had to care for a mentally ill, depressed, bipolar, etc, etc mother while you were a young child and adolescent, be forewarned. This is a beautiful and affecting film but hits waaaaaaay too close to home for anyone who had a life like mine, a milder version of the movie. I don't know how I sat through the whole thing. I lost it by the time it was over.

The description of the movie in the AFI Dallas Fest program made it sound like a civil rights struggle with a romantic triangle thrown in. That doesn't even begin to describe what this film is about.

Anyway, bring a lot of tissues.

It's almost a shock to see 'Script Editor' amongst the closing credits, because at least half of this pleasant, rather humourless film is a series of stock situations which have already been more economically and interestingly explored in other films about selfish mothers. It's tough for an audience to maintain their interest in a central character who cares only about herself, but two thrids of the way through this ghastly woman's journey, the main focus switches to her children, and there are scenes of poignant, painful truth which have undeniable clout. The script and direction tend to self-importance, but the cast (especially Steven Vidler) is excellent, but the costume design, as in so many period Australian films, is superficial and self-conscious.

The Home Song Stories is a beautifully crafted autobiographical drama from Tony Ayres that explores the complexities of love, mental health, and the migrant experience in 1970s Australia. Joan Chen is unforgettable as Rose, a glamorous yet troubled nightclub singer, delivering one of the most powerful performances of her career. The story, seen through the eyes of her young son, is tender, raw, and deeply personal.

What makes this film truly special is its emotional honesty. It doesn't sugarcoat the immigrant journey or the trauma within families, but instead presents a heartfelt, nuanced portrayal that resonates on many levels. A quietly devastating film that deserves more recognition.