A Not-So Review: Waves

After finishing the film, I was weirdly preoccupied by this thought: Why was it called 'Waves'?

In that moment, as I lay flat on my back, with only a flattened cardboard box shielding me from the cemented floor, I found myself overthinking. I knew that the harder I tried to make sense of it, the more crumpled my face became. Gripping my phone, my mind wandered elsewhere, yet I tried to snap myself back to my consciousness. Despite the trance, I was still attuned with Colors and Sounds lulling during the film's credit scene. When the screen flickered to pitch blackness and all sounds faded away, I returned to my initial wonderment:

So, why was called 'Waves'?

“Waves,” among other A24 films I know, is by far the most emotional and heartrending movie I have watched. With a runtime of over two hours, I initially thought it would only outline the redemption arc of high school senior, Tyler Williams, as he and his family dealt with loss, forgiveness, and love. However, as soon as his story concluded behind bars, another story began. I distinctly remember tapping my screen to check the time when the perspective shifted to his sister, Emily Williams. It was around 1:02:00, almost exactly halfway through the film.

While the first half felt like an adrenaline rush, with nail-biting jitters conveyed through camera works and suspenseful music, the second half left me feeling quenched—as if I had just taken a refreshing gulp of ice-cold water after being out in the scorching afternoon. 

Emily Williams, after the imprisonment of her brother, carried on with her life without a choice. The aftermath of what happened to their family drained the remaining hope she had and consequently left her feeling castaway. In the sea of people, where it felt suffocating for her, a boy from the same university swam toward her and randomly offered her a blueberry lollipop. Their story soon deepened as they navigated their way together toward healing and acceptance.

From Wind-Blown Ripples...

Now that I reflect on it, this film didn’t rely on familiar associations to emphasize the symbolic significance of the title. We were reintroduced to different elements and their literal and interpretative uses in both cinematic and literary experiences. The beauty of changing seasons, the birth of a new dawn, the ominous darkness, the hopeful connection of sunrise, the constellations and their grip on our future, and the dramatic rain—all of these have been widely used to define universal life. They also deviate from their common usage to offer a fresh perspective.

In the film, I appreciate how its metaphorical sense hasn’t been explicitly laid out for viewers’ easy understanding. Like an ever-unpredictable wave, the story mimicked its movement and aligned it with the course of human life. The film began with a burst of energy—pumping and gripping. The music strategically wove through the rush of scenes, especially during Tyler’s pursuit of his domineering father’s high expectations. 

Personally, as I watched the early parts of the first half, I felt like I was listening to Lorde’s Ribs. The tension kept rolling in and building, spontaneous and continuous, leaving me breathless, as if I were running in circles with my eyes closed. I wasn’t exactly on edge, but I leaned so close in my chair, weirdly focused and perplexed about where this tension would lead. And then it happened. After his father learned about Tyler’s shoulder injury, everything seemed to unravel. Tyler lost himself in the effort to save face. As hopelessness set in, he surrendered to his impulses, seeking solace that night with his pregnant girlfriend. No one, not even Tyler himself, expected that the same night would temporarily ease his pain, only to become a lifelong torment—this time behind bars.

As Tyler’s story closed, another one opened: Emily’s.

Just like the waves, unpredictable and ever-changing, all the built-up tension, vertigo-inducing camera work, agitated music, and frame ratios were compensated by shifting the focus of the story to his sister, Emily. As cheesy as it might sound, she came across like a breath of fresh air.

To Serene Stillness...

The toning down of the story, as the perspective shifted to Emily, put me at a greater ease. Clearly, the aftermath of her brother’s tragic downfall had shattered her hope for herself and her family. Although introverted, her solitude seemed deliberate—a self-imposed isolation from others, and likewise, people avoided her. Then, a chance encounter with a guy altered the trajectory of her university life. While waiting her turn in an audition, the same guy approached her with a sheepish demeanor. Despite the embarrassment and awkward gestures, he invited her out for an afternoon snack. Before bidding her goodbye, he handed her a blueberry lollipop, keeping one for himself.

The breaking of a wave cannot explain the whole sea...

In the latter part of the film, there is this shared moment between Emily and her father. Personally, I felt a mix of emotions toward her father—disgust, empathy, and frustration. Obviously, he was the driving force behind Tyler’s self-destructive path, pushing him relentlessly to earn his approval.

It’s sad to say that some parents display their sacrifices to their children’s faces, making them feel worthless. I understand that parents endure trials and hurdles, sacrificing their dreams and well-being to provide for their children. Yet, I don't comprehend why do they insist on imposing the same struggles on their children? Is it necessary for children to experience firsthand the hardships they endured? After all, it was them who ended that turmoil, so why impose the same burden on their children?

Under immense pressure, Tyler kept his shoulder injury a secret from anyone. Fearing disappointment from his father, he persisted despite the doctor’s advice to stop competing. This led to a tragic outcome and a series of misfortune events. 

That fateful night, Emily saw Tyler sneaking into their prom. Despite a sense of foreboding, she couldn't bring herself to move and see his brother's unwelcomed presence. Their parents also had a hint of Tyler’s whereabouts, but like with everyone else, they were too late—they found Alexis bloodied and lifeless.

That moment, while fishing together, Emily and her father grappled with regret. Emily harbored resentment toward her brother, blaming herself for not stopping him. Her father, equally regretful, questioned his role as a father. Both longed for their past lives and wished they could still be a family once again.

I agree with Emily’s father when he told her:

You have so much love to share with the world and so much life yet to live.

My heart crumbled when I heard those words. Parents, like their children, aren’t perfect. They, too, grapple with the weight of their roles. I recall an emotional scene from the hit K-Drama “Reply 1988.” Deok-Sun’s father explained that becoming a parent doesn’t automatically make someone a seasoned dad or mom. Each child is a unique journey, and it’s still their first time navigating parenthood.

As I reflect on Emily’s father’s sentiment, I wonder how it would feel to hear those words directed at me. 

Is there someone out there who believes I have love to give to the world and a life left to live? 

Approaching my 26th year next month, I’ve been wrestling with loads of emotion. Perhaps my frustrations and anger stem from unexpressed love? Love I’ve kept hidden, bottled...waiting for that moment to share.

Am I a lovable person?

I wonder…