WAITING FOR THE LIGHT TO CHANGE: screening introduction BY TRÀ MY NGUYỄN HOÀNG
WAITING FOR THE LIGHT TO CHANGE
It is always such a joy to experience new works from new filmmakers, and I’m delighted to introduce Waiting for the Light to Change today. Thank you so much to Marie-Pierre and the East Asia Film Festival In Ireland for this opportunity.
The Narrative Feature Grand Jury Prize winner at the Slamdance Film Festival, Waiting for the Light to Change is director Linh Tran’s feature film debut. Born and raised in Vietnam Linh moved to the United States to pursue her higher education in 2013. Starting out in theatre acting, she went on to make films, both documentary and fiction. Linh holds an MFA degree in film & TV from DePaul University, where Waiting for the Light to Change was made.
When I watched the film for the first time, I was just stunned by the fact this was a directorial debut given how assured it is, from both a technical and storytelling standpoint. It is easy to see how Waiting for the Light to Change fits on the same shelves as the likes of Hong Sang-soo and my personal favourite, Patrick Wang. Like the waves of the lake that feature so prominently in the film, it draws you in slowly, each time leaving behind an impression and revealing something that was previously hidden.
Waiting for the Light to Change is preoccupied with the question of millennial malaise, which, as a 27-year-old, and especially one who has moved away from home, close friends and family to study and live elsewhere, I can easily relate to. The film takes place over the course of a week-long beachside getaway in winter, where Amy, having recently undergone dramatic weight loss, finds herself wrestling between loyalty to her best friend Kim and her attraction to Kim’s new boyfriend, who was a mutual friend of theirs. It’s a setting that is rich in drama: an enclosed space (the beach house) and a group of people with repressed emotions and hidden interpersonal drama, all of whom are in their mid-20s — the post-college/university stage where you start figuring out who you are without any safety net.
Waiting for the Light to Change is a film about a very specific moment made at a very specific time. COVID19 meant Linh and the crew had to change a lot of their original plan and whittle it down to something more simplistic and bareboned, but that simplicity helps to heighten the intimacy and claustrophobic nature of the film despite its expansive location: characters are stifled by their expectations and perception of others; by old bonds and relationships; by the constant anxiety towards the future and the fretting over what ifs of the past; of the things not said and the things you wish you did not say.
At one point in the film, Kim turns to Amy and asked her if they would still be friends if they met now. It’s a question I’m sure we ourselves have often asked our own friends, in moments of annoyance but also of appreciation. You hope they’d say yes, but it is never that simple. Sometimes growing up meant growing apart, and it is easy to do that if you live far away from each other. Little by little, you stop telling each other everything. And you don’t realise that you both have changed until the next time you see each other again.
What does it mean to grow up and become an adult, when all the previous markers — a career, a partner, stability — seem unattainable? What does it mean to have done something? Waiting for the Light to Change doesn’t really provide a clear answer because there is none, but hopefully, it will help to calm those anxious voices inside of us that is okay to be 25 and haven’t done shits. Or well, in my case, to be 27 and haven’t done shits. Life is messy. It’s better to live in the moment and enjoy the lovely things that surround you: the warm, orange sun setting over a barn; the calming waves of the lake, the bright stars. I hope you will enjoy the film and love it as much as I did.
Trà My Nguyễn Hoàng
July 2023
Trà My Nguyễn Hoàng is a Vietnamese photographer. Trà moved to Dublin in 2013, and has worked with arts festivals and organisations in Dublin. You can find her works on Instagram at @memymoxxs or at apollosadventures.wordpress.com