![‘We Are All Strangers’ Review: Anthony Chen’s Tender Family Drama Makes His Bid To Become The Millennial Edward Yang [Berlin]](https://cdn.theplaylist.net/wp-content/uploads/2026/02/17110751/We-Are-All-Strangers.jpg "‘We Are All Strangers’ Review: Anthony Chen’s Tender Family Drama Makes His Bid To Become The Millennial Edward Yang [Berlin]")
If Anthony Chen were any more indebted to Edward Yang, the director’s latest film, “We Are All Strangers,” might have to be titled “Singapore Story” after the Taiwanese New Wave filmmaker’s own “Taipei Story.” The final chapter of Chen’s “growing up” trilogy offers more than just a longitudinal family saga. Like the works of the gentle cinematic giant in whose shadow this work exists, the film encompasses the transformations and tussles of his city-state home on a much broader sociopolitical canvas.
One does not need to be an expert on Singapore’s state of affairs to understand how macro-level forces shape micro-level decisions in “We Are All Strangers.” This multigenerational, multiethnic cast of working-class characters is just trying to live and love as best they can. Over 157 minutes, Chen gives himself plenty of opportunities to reveal the subtle yet sudden ways in which change creeps in, influencing how everyday people perceive their place in the world.
Watching “We Are All Strangers” come together mirrors the way Chen shoots the preparation of a noodle dish in two bookending sequences of the film. It starts with quick cuts of discrete, methodical actions as the various component ingredients are prepared. Then the camera holds on the thermal process of combining them in a pot over a flame. This film offers similar sustaining nourishment as it comes together, too, only for the world-weary soul rather than the empty stomach.
These characters, especially the young adult protagonist Junyang (Koh Jia Ler), may believe their destiny is solely in their own hands. But Chen gradually reveals that these individual journeys will become inextricably linked through the crucible of economic hardship. With the passage of time, “We Are All Strangers” acquires rich, soulful flavoring, just as it does in a bowl from the humble noodle stand of Boon Kiat (Andi Lim).
It’s not necessary to know that Chen has spent a longer span documenting the development of star Jia Lier than Richard Linklater did with the protagonist of “Boyhood.” Yet it does inform the fitful progression through life’s stages into adulthood, which comes to fruition in the director’s subsequent films, “Ilo Ilo” and “Wet Season.” Chen also has a built-in guard against navel-gazing solipsism with actress Yeo Yann Yann, his other recurring cast member. Her role in “We Are All Strangers,” the beer server Bee Hwa, serves as her characters often do: to provide necessary wisdom without ever existing solely as a tool to further a young man’s development.
In a stratified society increasingly able to self-segregate inside its screens, a middle-aged woman stuck waiting tables and a fresh-faced young man recently sprung from his military conscription think their lives have little in common. Yet Junyang and Bee Hwa share remarkably parallel trajectories. Chen’s greatest accomplishment in “We Are All Strangers” is to make it feel surprising yet inevitable that their two lives ultimately converge and merge.
These two leading figures of “We Are All Strangers” each experience a love story: he predictably with his fellow young K-pop enthusiast, Lydia (Regene Lim), she unwittingly with her food hall coworker, Boon Kiat. As Bee Hwa assumes the role of Junyang’s stepmother, their blended family is anything but a smooth mix. The tiny domicile once occupied by the father and son grows to accommodate partners and a child, even as their cash flow does not keep pace.
Boon Kiat assiduously refuses to raise the prices on his customers, but the country does not repay his kindness. Chen’s film captures a country torn between honoring tradition and embracing the future, as the central family is. The Lims are on the losing end of stratification in a Singapore that increasingly caters to the wealthy, especially to the influx of Chinese nationals. For Bee Hwa, history is repeating itself. She now endures a second economic overhaul in a nation that cares little whether the shifts leave her behind.
But for Junyang, who his father laments as “smart but lazy,” there’s still a chance to end up a winner. The most vibrant stretch of “We Are All Strangers” unfolds as he lands a job working for a luxury real estate agent who caters to Chinese buyers. It’s here that Chen finds the most harmony between the two scales of his storytelling. Junyang’s work requires him to embody the changes looming over Singaporean society, even adopting the English name “Steve” to make himself more palatable to foreign customers. His heritage and lineage are all too easily sacrificed in the name of money and power.
“We Are All Strangers” is not some Horatio Alger tale of rags-to-riches, however. In place of triumphalism, Chen offers tentativeness with tenderness. This disposition does grow a bit strained by the film’s final act, which solidifies the interconnected nature of Junyang and Bee Hwa’s livelihoods. (And he does so by sidelining Lydia in the narrative altogether.) Chen clearly understands the mechanics and mindset of the livestreaming industry that mark Junyang’s latest gambit to strike it rich. But that medium’s unavoidable direct-to-camera addresses speak what lurked so eloquently in subtext before.
The reservoir of goodwill Chen builds up across “We Are All Strangers” is mighty enough to hold even when the closing section gets slightly wobbly. His grace notes resound so profoundly that they still echo when the film hits other notes less confidently. Chen’s heartfelt humanism renders his film’s title a lie. Modernization and digitization may be forces driving isolation. But in their wake, the hard-earned grace found in a shared struggle for dignity strips away unfamiliarity between unsuspecting individuals. [B+]
