Ms. Purple

Chu’s performance is astonishing.

The burden of familial obligation permeates Ms. Purple — who carries it and who passes it off, who outruns it and who lets it overrun them. It’s a ripe topic Chon clearly feels deeply, rendered in beautiful cinematography and delicate storytelling. It’s also a uniquely Asian-American story, rooted in loving specificity and beating with a universally human heart.

Ms. Purple is the kind of low-budget film, with inexpensive-looking slo-mo effects and an overwhelming score (the filmmakers anticipate any and all requests that the violins be cued) one usually sees only in local film festivals.

Ms. Purple is lived-in drama, expanding off familiar beats with fresh POVs, an authentic setting, and a DIY style that never feels cheap

[A] gorgeously shot and sensitively acted drama, a demonstration of range from the actor-turned-director.

The performances work, despite their requisite flatness. It’s just that the few flashes of heightened drama and the gentleness of the Kasie/Octavio scenes aren’t enough to lift the weight these characters and this story carries.

Subtlety dissipates as Justin Chon’s film grasps for something louder and more obvious.