All about Compassion
The Left-Handed Girl follows a single mother and her two daughters returning to Taipei. The mother struggles with debt after her ex becomes gravely ill; the rebellious elder daughter gets involved with a married man; and the younger one becomes terrified of her "demonic" left hand after a tragic accident. The film captures their intertwined lives, as well as the mother's relationship with her own parents and siblings, revealing both humor and helplessness in the face of traditional Chinese views on family and gender.
During the Q&A, director Shih-Ching Tsou shared her long creative journey with Sean Baker. Working on Baker's low-budget projects meant handling everything from costumes to props to extras, which Tsou described as attending "Sean Baker Film School." The film inherits something essential from Baker's cinema: compassion for its characters.
Whether the mother, or the two daughters, each is portrayed with care and dignity. The film guides us through their shared struggles, buried secrets, and the emotional storm that erupts in the final sequence. That quiet compassion, which defines Baker's best work, shines here as well.
One late-night scene stands out: the two sisters wandering through a Taipei night market. Without spoilers, the older girl says a line that suddenly changes how we see her. As she leads her younger sister through the market's stalls, we glimpse another side of her, a subtle revelation that also quietly foreshadows later developments. She suddenly feels more than just a stereotypical rebellious teen. Perhaps she is moved by her little sister's pure love for their mother, which prompts her sudden change of heart. (And the younger girl, sensing her mother's inner conflict, ends up doing something both touching and amusing.) Though the three of them rarely enjoy what we might call quality time together, their bond proves far stronger than it first appears. They affect and transform one another through love, that very emotion becomes the seed from which each character grows into fullness.
During the Q&A, director Shih-Ching Tsou shared her long creative journey with Sean Baker. Working on Baker's low-budget projects meant handling everything from costumes to props to extras, which Tsou described as attending "Sean Baker Film School." The film inherits something essential from Baker's cinema: compassion for its characters.
Whether the mother, or the two daughters, each is portrayed with care and dignity. The film guides us through their shared struggles, buried secrets, and the emotional storm that erupts in the final sequence. That quiet compassion, which defines Baker's best work, shines here as well.
One late-night scene stands out: the two sisters wandering through a Taipei night market. Without spoilers, the older girl says a line that suddenly changes how we see her. As she leads her younger sister through the market's stalls, we glimpse another side of her, a subtle revelation that also quietly foreshadows later developments. She suddenly feels more than just a stereotypical rebellious teen. Perhaps she is moved by her little sister's pure love for their mother, which prompts her sudden change of heart. (And the younger girl, sensing her mother's inner conflict, ends up doing something both touching and amusing.) Though the three of them rarely enjoy what we might call quality time together, their bond proves far stronger than it first appears. They affect and transform one another through love, that very emotion becomes the seed from which each character grows into fullness.
- FilmdePool
- Oct 21, 2025