Ms. Purple
There are parts of “Ms. Purple” that speak to me deeply. If you’ve ever had to be caretaker to a loved one, whether it’s a parent or family member, there are moments in Justin Chou’s film that will resonate with you. There’s the stress of the day-to-day care, and the fact that your life must be lived for someone else, as much as it is lived for you. That dynamic is not the same as it is for a couple, because in this scenario, the other person is almost entirely dependent on you. This is something “Ms. Purple” does very well.
The film begins with a flashback to Kasie being told how beautiful she is as they prepare to go see her mother as she’s a kid. Flashbacks of her and her brother, Carey, being taken by their father to go see her father are throughout the film, and they are genuinely affecting. The illuminate the character dynamics at work as we see Kasie (Tiffany Chu) trying to take care of her dying father by herself, hiring, and trying to keep, live-in help; we see one quit early on who suggests she put him in hospice. She cannot abide by that, though; she tries reaching out to Carey (Teddy Lee), whose relationship with their father has been tension-filled, who does help out, and even has some good ways of doing so. Kasie continues to try to make end’s meet, however, as a hostess at a Koreatown karaoke bar. At some point, she has to figure out a way to live for her, however, and that time may be fast approaching.
We see the responsibilities of taking care of her father wearing on Kasie’s face, not physically, but the psychological toll. She spends a lot of time pleasing a wealthy businessman, whom is happy to give her money for her company and affection, but even when she’s at his home, we feel as though she is overwhelmed by the responsibility, and not happy in her life. Having Carey around helps lessen the burden, but it still weighs heavily, especially since her arrangement with the businessman reveals someone who, ultimately, does not respect her. This is the heart of the film, and it’s an emotionally engaging journey, which makes it hard for me to admit that I’m not as enamored with Chou’s film as I wish I was. While Kasie’s line of work is an important part of her story, it feels like an unnecessary subplot explaining how she makes her money rather than an important aspect of her character’s journey. There are some good moments in these scenes, but they don’t really justify their inclusion in the story, however. The emotional journey Kasie goes on to make the choices she does in the end with her father is what matters, and it’s an emotional journey I wish resonated with me completely.
