In many stories that revolve around immigrant families, one common trope that is used again and again is that of the stern father figure, the patriarch whose word is law, and tries to keep a firm hold of his roots while assimilating to American life, and struggles to relate to his children. But it’s a trope that is very much rooted in reality, which even I can attest to. In Tigertail, the directorial debut from Master of None co-creator, Alan Yang, uses his own father as inspiration as a way to explore the trials and tribulations of achieving the American dream.
The film utilizes a flashback-flashforward structure telling the story of Grover (Hing Chi-Lee in flashbacks, Tzi Ma in the present), who grew up in Taiwan. We see moments of him with the love of his life, Yuan (Yo-Hsing Fang). However, when his dream of coming to America comes in the form of an opportunity provided by his boss, he is swiftly set up with his daughter, Zhenzhen (Kunjue Li in flashbacks, Fiona Fu in the present), and the two begin a new life in America, leaving Yuan behind. Now, old and struggling to be involved with his daughter, Angela (Christine Ko), he reflects on his life, and the decisions he made that got him where he is.
With influences from the likes of Edward Yang and Wong Kar-wai, Alan Yang paints a vibrant and leisurely portrait of Grover’s life. It feels like memories being brought to life, relishing in the textures, the music, and the emotions that informed his childhood before being pulled down to reality once the hard decisions are made, and his old life is left behind. The dreamy aesthetic takes a turn for the gritty as the young couple make a living in New York, and as time passes, Grover becomes more isolated as his relationships dwindle, with Zhenzhen divorcing him once their kids are out of the house.
The relationship that gets the most emphasis is that between Grover and Angela. As he grew up being told to not be emotional, his stoic, distant quality has had an adverse effect on the way he raised his kids – or didn’t raise as Zhenzhen puts it, talking about how he was always away. Angela is dealing with her own issues, and Grover can’t help but feel she has maybe inherited some of his stubbornness, which leads them to a path of reconciliation.
As compelling as all this sounds, I was left feeling a bit underwhelmed with Tigertail. The film is made up of so many interesting pieces, but they are put together in a way that doesn’t allow its bright spots to fully shine, and make the necessary impact. Some of it has to do with its structure. The flashbacks don’t have a clear trigger or relevance to scenes that came prior, so many of these sequences come across as interrupting each other, even if the scenes are perfectly good in and of themselves.
Yang also misses several opportunities to explore different elements of the story, which could have made this more distinct from your average immigrant story. The opening scene involves Chinese soldiers bothering Grover’s grandmother while he hides, an aspect of his childhood that is never seen or addressed significantly again. We only get very brief glimpses into Grover and Zhenzhen’s marriage, and we never once see their son, who gets one mention late in the film. Angela is just going through a breakup that is done in a way that implies some kind of understanding on our part, but there simply isn’t any. The film is full of details waiting to be explored, but instead, they are talked about in passing.
Despite the faults I had with Tigertail, I think Alan Yang shows a lot of promise as a filmmaker. He has an empathetic eye and a knack for lush visual storytelling that, over time, can really flourish into something special. Tigertail boasts some wonderful qualities, especially in the performances, Tzi Ma carries the film with so much grace and heft. But the film leaves so many blanks for its audience to mentally fill in that not only would have added a specificity that prevented any feeling of being generic, it would have also added so much more emotional weight to the themes that Yang is exploring. It’s by no means a bad film, it’s still pretty good for all those individual elements that work. I do like the film, but when it was over, I really wished I loved it.