Reporting from Cannes, Shannon Cotter watches Left-Handed Girl unfurl with quiet force, a luminous, street-level portrait of survival and shame in modern-day Taipei.
Shot on an iPhone, this deft tale of familial love, resentment and shame across three generations of women is as exuberant as the city it’s filmed in.
The beginning of Shih-Ching Tsou’s solo directorial debut sweeps across the bustling city of Taipei. Packed to the brim with people and vehicles, colours jump out in every direction. This is how five-year-old I-Jing (Nina Ye) sees the world as she, her sister I-Ann (Shih-yuan Ma) and their mother, Shu-fen (Janet Tsai), are forced to move into a grubby little apartment in order to make ends meet. Separated from her husband after a tumultuous relationship, the family is without a patriarch — a situation which throws them further into despair due to the misogyny that girdles the everyday dynamics. Still persistent, Shu-fen sets up a noodle stall in one of the local night markets, despite a hefty rental fee to reckon with each month.
It’s from here we watch the women’s struggles coincide, each one trying to make their way in the city. I-Ann, sharp-tongued, moody and ineffably intimidating, finds criticism in everything: their new apartment, working part-time in her mum’s stall, her mother’s still somewhat tepid relationship with her dad, who financially and emotionally bankrupted the family (a plot point touched upon later). She takes up a job as a Betel Nut Beauty (a betel nut being a popular stimulant in Taiwan), a role which relies as much on her appearance as it does her sales ability.
Engaging in sex with her boss, I-Ann has a hardness which results in endless lashings towards Shu-fen and I-Jing. However, as the story develops, we learn that I-Ann was formerly a straight-A student, propelling towards the best of Taiwan’s universities before suddenly dropping out of school. Financial difficulties, she claims, when reuniting with old classmates. Taking in the scope of the luxury at the same party, Ma’s disbelief is visible. The actress brings with her a natural charm that feels difficult to mimic (maybe due in part to the fact she was found by Tsou on Instagram — this marks her first acting role) and steals the screen with every icy glance. Perhaps more roles may be needed to distinguish her variety, but out of a very stellar cast, her ability to cross over to bigger roles feels the strongest.
That is not to say she is not kept up with. Tsai’s performance as a grizzled mother, trying to internally store her stress, is a knuckle-biting watch as the problems begin to pile up. Throw in a slightly kooky grandmother (Xin-Yan Chao), engaging in not-so-legal activities and favouring her only son among three daughters, it is a staunch reflection of an individual trying everything to get through and fearing it may not be good enough. At least Shu-fen’s storyline has the added levity of love interest Johnny (Brandon Huang) — an endlessly smiling stall neighbour who repeatedly accosts potential customers with promises of magic sponges and quick fixes, bringing in I-Jing to up the cuteness factor.
His insistence on helping Shu-fen, be it offering her money or trying to support her when short-handed, means each rejection by Shu-fen brings disappointment. It is a humbling reality, however, of the pride Shu-fen is forced to carry as a woman already shamed for her financial situation, broken marriage and place as a woman. Though I-Ann’s generation continues to evolve forward, misogyny still taints their life. The favouritism towards men throws inheritances askew, and one character even offers to pay for the adoption of an unborn baby, on the condition they are male.
This commitment to tradition also sees I-Jing’s grandfather (Akio Chen) guide I-Jing in believing the left hand belongs to the devil. Naturally left-handed, the frightened I-Jing attempts a new way of life – eating, drawing – with her family oblivious to her new habit. However, as they enter further financial turmoil, I-Jing, believing her left hand is a vehicle for evil, realises no crime is off limits, especially if it can support her mother.
Despite all the intertwining threads, Tsou is able to pack them into the film, flitting between storylines with ease. In fact, the film does border on overstaying its welcome — a black screen happens a little too pre-emptively and sets up a certain completion, only to be followed by more. But it is testament to Tsou’s and Sean Baker’s script that the territories the film enters remain memorable weeks later. A certain fascination follows her commitment to neo-realism. The overfilled streets and a bright palette give a kick to the screen, bringing an electricity to the everyday actions of characters — but Tsou never lets it stray from a griminess either. One nerve-wracking scene with I-Jing will cause viewers to shy away because it could be that type of film. Even with the verve jumping off screen, the precariousness of the characters’ situations, balancing atop one another, ensures this film could be a lot darker at any second. Tsou makes sure you know, considering how close these difficulties sit to reality.
It is hard not to write a review without acknowledging the Baker connections. As producer, co-writer and editor, there was a feeling at Cannes that this was a hot ticket, following the Palme d’Or-winning Anora. With Tsou having produced every one of Baker’s films since 2012 bar Anora, there is a certain crossover in style which draws favourable comparisons to The Florida Project. However, Tsou’s eye for images, I-Ann transporting I-Jing through the glowing city on her scooter, a sole dancer tearing up the stage of a disco bar, and the heart of her story assures this is very much her own.
Left-Handed Girl had its world premiere on 15th May 2025, in the Critics’ Week sidebar of the 78th Cannes Film Festival .
