2024 Edinburgh International Film Festival Review

Blue Sun Palace opens with a couple having dinner. Didi (Haipeng Xu) is eating spicy chicken with her partner Cheung (Lee Kang-Sheng). During the meal, Didi pulls the meat off the bone and eats with her fingers, despite cutlery being on the table. As they eat, Didi and Cheung bond over the food, discussing whether Cheung often visits the restaurant and talking about their future. The night continues with karaoke, and when Cheung misses the bus, Didi invites him to stay at her place.

The next day, we see Didi at work at the massage parlor, which explicitly states that they do not perform sexual acts; however, that isn’t entirely accurate. It’s here that we meet Amy (Ke-Xi Wu), who works alongside Didi and two others. Didi is an energetic character, and watching her connection with her colleagues and the bond they share is heart warming. Unfortunately, tragedy strikes after the title card, sending the film into a downward spiral.

Based on the description, you might assume that Didi is the main lead, but unfortunately, she serves merely as a vessel for the true leads, Cheung and Amy. The story primarily focuses on how Cheung and Amy cope with the aftermath of the tragedy and form an unlikely connection. As a narrative subversion, I don’t object to Cheung and Amy sharing the lead roles, but neither is as compelling as Didi. Cheung is a cheater who uses women to satisfy himself, primarily by having Amy fill the void in his life. Moreover, he is a deadbeat dad who spends money meant for his family on Amy.

Having an unrelatable character is not inherently problematic, but when combined with Amy’s poor development, it results in a very bitter mix. Following the tragedy, she is understandably suffering from depression. She has experienced true heartbreak, and watching her suffer in silence is harrowing. Her appearance changes dramatically due to this heartbreak; before the tragedy, she is upbeat and optimistic about the future, but afterward, she becomes a ghost of her former self. Consequently, when she is emotionally manipulated by Cheung and later assaulted by a patron at the parlour in a key scene, it adds little to her character.

A key motif is the leaking roof in the parlour. Instead of fixing the problem, Amy places buckets under the leak, and Cheung attempts a patch job. This approach can be seen as a metaphor for mental health—while you can temporarily patch the issues, the only real solution is to address them at their core. This could have been a powerful message, but the characters are not developed enough for it to be truly effective.

If only the narrative were as beautiful as the visuals. Every location exudes authenticity, from the massage parlour featuring scenes in both English and Mandarin to the way the restaurant’s interiors are laid out it is a sight to behold. The cinematography is stunning, with each frame composed to be truly picturesque.

At the core of Blue Sun Palace, there is something special about how it handles grief and overcoming loss. However, these elements get lost in the shuffle with characters that are intended to be flawed but come across as merely unlikable and underdeveloped. As a result, the final product is disappointing.