bbbahrd Hydrangeas has two meanings in the language of flower. The flower was seen three times: twice mentioned its name by Kai, once shown at the end in which the mother was narrating. One is the coldness/heartlessness and this represents the mother's hatred toward Richard or dissatisfaction caused by Kai at the beginning of and the middle of the movie. Another meaning, is the giver's appreciation for the receiver's understanding: "Thank you for understanding." At the end of the movie where the mother and the flower were shown together, the flower tells the change of the mother's feeling and now the mother accepts what she faces. Thus, you might sense Kai's appreciation. This sounds sort of distorted but I like to stick to this idea because it is simply beautiful. Hope this surprises you.

JvH48 Though being generally positive about this film, I must admit upfront that I had problems with its use of flashbacks featuring the deceased Kai. I only understood afterwards on the way home what I missed, while apparently easily picked up by others whose reviews I saw. The first example is the scene with Kai and Junn, shown twice, the first time ending when someone entered the room to replace a light bulb but does not see Kai, making clear for most viewers (apparently, but not for me) that Kai existed only in Junn's mind. The second appearance of this scene ended before the bulb-change person entered, so I had no chance to reconsider. Kai died some time ago, and I only knew that from reading the synopsis beforehand, and a virtual visit like this one was Junn's own way to keep the reminiscences of her son alive. A second example where I missed the obvious were the scenes with Kai and Richard at home, apparently (again, in hindsight) happening in the past, where they talk about living together with or without Junn, in either case how and when to reveal the true nature of their gay relationship. Rationally speaking (again, while looking back), it is abundantly clear that these flashbacks were inevitable to clarify the respective relationships. Yet I think there could have been thought of other ways to accomplish that, without hampering our chronological narrative way of thinking that usually works best. The way it is done now feels a bit artificial, and it hampered my viewing experience. I am prepared to admit that the latter can be my fault altogether.Perfectly clear throughout the whole running time is that Junn and Richard belong to two different worlds. There is much more than merely a language barrier that withholds them from really communicating. The interpreter he hired, Vann, dismisses Junn's lack of knowledge of the English language, calling her a "lazy bitch" which was obviously a common phenomenon under female immigrants. On one hand they could depend on their spouse or children to interface with the outer world, and on the other hand it demonstrates Junn's bland refusal to adapt to the world where she lived in for many years. That also explains how the English way to take care of the elderly, being very different from her own traditions, stood between Junn and Kai for a long time, in spite of Kai repeatedly saying that the home for the elderly she was put in, was just a "temporary" measure. Anyway, Kai did not have to cope with a language barrier, and still failed to drive the message home, particularly as he kept postponing a decision to explain the real relationship between himself and Richard, fearing she would not understand and working disruptively on the relationship between mother and son.A nice find is the introduction of Alan as Junn's would-be lover. They "dated" several times before, both without understanding a word what the other was saying. This courting formed an excuse for Richard to hire Vann as an interpreter, fitting nicely his own hidden agenda to come closer to Junn. The relationship between Alan and Junn changes as soon as their communication improved. It brings several differences to light, some not so important but others seemingly insurmountable. Junn is not the modest passive woman we assumed at first sight; she can make her position very clear when felt necessary.The final scene demonstrates hope for their future. Junn and Richard seem to be able to communicate without interpreter Vann translating each sentence (this is rather implicit, but even I understood by virtue of their body language). We see a mutual trust and understanding growing between the two when exchanging sentences, in spite of not really knowing what the other was saying. I must admit being a bit lost during this final scene. It took some time on the way home to grasp all the things that were shown implicitly. The preceding scenes were abundantly clear in comparison, but this one needed some afterthought. We can imagine for ourselves how their relationship is about to continue, this being left as an exercise for the viewer.

hughman55 "Lilting" is a quiet study of two people at opposite ends of grief. After the sudden death of Kai (Andrew Leung) his boyfriend Richard (Ben Whishaw) is left to piece together the compartmentalized fragments of Kai's brief life. Single most among them, that Kai has left his mother, Junn (Pei Pei Chen), stranded in a rest home. Though Kai had kept his and Richard's relationship a secret from her, Richard nevertheless initiates contact with Junn. Meeting with her at the rest home he discovers that she has made an "acquaintance", Alan (Richard Bowles), with whom she shares no spoken language. Their relationship is based on sensations and a complete lack of any practical knowledge of one another. Seeing this Richard takes it upon himself to hire a translator, Vann (Naomi Christie). Richard tells Vann that Junn speaks six different languages, and that one of them is NOT English despite having lived for decades in London. Vann responds, "lazy bitch" and he responds with a pained smile, "so selfish". Those simple lines are filled with sympathy, awe, and irony. Richard and Vann fully comprehend this. With that they establish an on screen chemistry that is endearing and comforting. And that moment is the start of how this movie uses grief, loss, and profound sadness, to explain the absolute necessity of understanding the meaning of words - and the absolute irrelevance of the meaning of words. The trajectory of these two grieving souls, Richard and Junn, coming face to face, is now set. Richard repeatedly extends himself to Junn in an effort to pick up where her son left off. Though his efforts are generous and from the heart, they are not without some self interest. When Richard is close to Junn he's close to someone who, though in a different way, loved Kai as much as he did. Through flashbacks we come to know that Richard had a healthier and less conflicted perception of Junn than did her son. Kai was afraid to explain fully who Richard was to his mother and she grew to imagine him as an impediment to her relationship with her son. And by bringing Junn and Alan together through a translator, Richard allows himself, once again, to be placed on the perimeter of Junn's life. It is the familiar place he was kept in when Kai was alive.Junn searches Richards eyes trying to figure out who he is, why he is helping her, and what exactly her son meant to him. She hears him speaking English, but she searches his eyes for the real meaning that she knows is beyond the translated word. Richard holds back his own grief over Kai allowing Junn to be the grieved one. At one point Junn references a picture of Kai and Richard's emotions well up. Choking back tears and barely able to speak, he asks Junn, "do you like living here?" The disconnect of hearing such pointless chitchat from someone so emotionally devastated is jarring. Over and again, Richard chooses to suppress his grief. Junn has lost the only person in the world she loved. So has he. And she can't know.Kai is never seen "alive" in this film. He appears in flashback as he is being remembered by either his mother or Richard. Because this is not known immediately to the audience, we go through our own experience of loss and grief as we come to realize that he is gone. The bedroom scenes with Richard and Kai are ethereal and touching. Breathtaking cinematography creates a halcyon beauty to their connection with one another. Filmed from one side of the bed, with light from the window on their skin, memory is implied. Filmed with the window in the background suggests reality. These bits are cut together, continuously, throughout the scene. The dialog sometimes comes from their mouths as though spoken and alternately in voice-over as though being remembered. It is genius, subtle, and very moving. And that is just one of the ways this film conveys the absence of the character around whom this story is being told. Connecting these related scenes and flashbacks are tableaux of cold gray skies, landscapes entombed in frost, leafless, lifeless, trees, and an underlying music score of haunting contemplative beauty. These winterscapes are the connective metaphor for death and loss that underlies this story.The ocular interplay in this film is a whole separate script from the written dialog. It heightens the emotional dexterity of the narrative and is powerful in the hands of this cast. Listen with your ears, but watch everyone's eyes. Pei Pei Cheng's performance is astonishing. Especially to the "English only" ear. We experience her reality as she rails with grief and frustration in a language we don't understand. That is her life, every waking minute of every day, now that her only human connection to the world is gone. Naomi Christie is affable, sweet, and unselfishly torn between the separate worlds of Richard's and Junn's loss. But it is Ben Whishaw, who's character has to balance ALL these realities in this drama, who gives a shattering and achingly constrained performance. Only Richard knows where all the pieces of this tragedy puzzle are. And only he can reveal them or choke them back when, and if, the time is right. He carries the full weight of this sad story alone and you feel it, through him, deeply. A role as complex and multi-layered as this cannot be in lesser hands and be effective. Wishaw is just brilliant. He not only delivers a riveting but quiet performance, he also chooses his film projects intelligently. Which brings me to first-time writer/director Hong Kahou. He has written an original, and complicated screenplay, and executed it with masterful directing. More than telling you a story, he tells you a feeling. And it is one that will stay with you for some time. The sad but hopeful ending was a complete stunner. And in retrospect, perfect.

dipesh parmar Junn (Cheng Pei Pei) is a widowed Cambodian-Chinese woman who lives in an old peoples home in London, placed there by her only son Kai (Andrew Leung). With no other family, and having left Cambodia over 50 years ago, Junn is alone and unwilling to adapt to her surroundings or the people she's placed with.She relies on Kai's attentions and affections, but her isolation becomes utterly complete with his unfortunate death. Junn knew that Kai lived in a house with Richard (Ben Wishaw), but Kai hadn't told her they were together as a couple. Grief-stricken himself, Richard feels duty-bound to help Junn, but they don't even share a common language let alone know much about each other.Alan (Peter Bowles) resides at the home too and starts an unusual relationship with Junn where they talk to each other in their own languages, not really knowing what on earth the other is thinking or talking about apart from physical gestures. Richard tries to help this sweet pairing by hiring a translator in Vann (Naomi Christie), so that they can communicate with each other. Its a way in for Richard to get closer to Junn, who has her own reasons for disliking him.'Lilting' is the debut from writer-director Hong Khaou, who shines a light on contrasting cultures in the capital. Grief is foremost in the minds of all concerned, Wishaw is wonderful as the achingly suppressed Richard, who gradually releases his grief the more he gets to know Junn, showing her just how much he loved Kai. Pei Pei plays the stoic mother perfectly, you can see the isolation, love and grief in her eyes.In light of the subject matter, the overall mood of 'Lilting' is quite forgiving. Junn and Alan provide the most endearing moments as well as some awkwardly comical scenes especially when they confess their bad habits to each other. Dealing with such weighty issues as love, memory, language and mourning, Khaou has directed an assured and thoughtful film full of subtle releases and deeply felt emotions.