Pierce is the debut feature film from Singaporean director Nelicia Low. Set in modern-day Taipei, the psychological thriller explores the complex relationship between two estranged brothers, Jie and Han, through their shared passion for competitive fencing.
While fencing requires anticipation of an opponent’s every move, the brothers struggle to see each other with clarity. Han is released from juvenile detention after serving time for a fencing accident that turned tragic. Jie cherishes the bond they once shared, despite their mother’s insistence that Han poses a threat. As the two tentatively reconnect, long-buried secrets resurface and trust is tested like never before.
Low displays impressive control of the cinematic craft. Subtle performances and intricate visuals keep viewers as unbalanced as the characters. We’re drawn into Jie’s turmoil as he weighs reality against desire. Which brother does he really know—the guiding light of memory or something darker? A climactic twist challenges expectations in a way consistent with the film’s psychologically layered depth.
Pierce immerses audiences in a world where personal perception shapes truth as much as facts. Through the brothers’ athletic art form and inner conflicts, it confronts the blurry lines between love and deception, innocence and guilt. This review explores how the film navigates these complexities to craft a thought-provoking family drama.
Entangled Bonds
The story centers on two brothers from Taipei, Han and Jie, and the complex bond between them. Han was once a champion fencer but is now released from juvenile detention after seven years.
We learn he killed an opponent during a match, though he claims it was accidental. Jie admires his big brother deeply, despite their mother insisting Han is dangerous. She forbids Jie from seeing Han after the incident.
As a talented fencer himself, 16-year-old Jie trains hard, hoping to one day match Han’s skill. When Han is granted early release, Jie eagerly considers reconnecting. But his mother has moved on and tells a story of Han living abroad to explain his absence.
Han surprises Jie at fencing practice, challenging him to a secret duel. Quickly, Han takes on a mentoring role, refining Jie’s technique. Through their sessions, Jie improves significantly and makes the team competitive.
Yet ambiguities emerge around Han. Flashing between the brothers’ joyful childhood and Han’s creepy manner now, questions arise. Did he truly kill by accident as a hotheaded youth? Or is there more to the story?
Jie desperately wants to believe in the brother he admires. But clues suggest Han may manipulate others for his own gains. A looming tournament brings matters to a head as Jie must separate truth from idealization.
The brothers’ bond is tested like never before. Nuanced performances leave viewers as unbalanced as Jie, weighing brotherly love against potential threats. Every subtle interaction could point either way in this intricately woven psychological drama.
Memories on the Mat
Director Nelicia Low crafts Pierce with a keen visual style. She utilizes fencing as more than just a backdrop, employing it as a perfect metaphor for the story’s psychological themes.
Low shoots in a 1.66:1 academy ratio, fitting for the elegant sport at the film’s core. Cinematographer Michal Dymek seamlessly switches between wide shots capturing full matches and tight close-ups intensifying vulnerable moments. His camera fluidly follows action while finding nuance in faces.
One standout scene pans between brothers during a flashback, joyous then yet tinged with unease. Another steadily circles the characters as tensions mount before a bout, putting us in their focused headspace. These showcase how visuals enhance evolving moods and hints of murkier depths beneath surface bonds.
Subtle color choices also shine, bleaching traumatic memories to grainy implausibility. During one confrontation, spotlights highlight the literal masks competitors don, just as they obscure identities in this narrative of shifting realities.
Low’s direction spotlights fencing’s strategic mindgames, a perfect mirror for the brothers’ internal battles. Their dances of feint and parry become projections of entangled affection, mistrust, and what lies unspoken between blade tips. Like the sport, this film thrives in intimacy and implication, inviting interpretations as keen and unpredictable as every polished thrust.
Beneath the Masks
At the heart of Pierce are the complex brotherly bonds entwining Han and Jie. Portrayed brilliantly by Tsao Yu-Ning and Liu Hsiu-Fu, these characters undergo journeys of self-discovery amid shifting dynamics.
Tsao imbues the charming yet ominously enigmatic Han with subtle layers. Warmth shines through practiced smiles even as an underlying frostiness hints at manipulative cunning. We glimpse fleeting vulnerabilities but can’t fathom his true motives.
Liu, in his debut, brings Jie’s earnest idealism to life whilst conveying underlying fears. We feel his turmoil as devotion clashes with maternal warnings and growing suspicions. Liu allows us to view events through Jie’s hopeful eyes, sharing his dilemma over shadowy realities versus romanticized memories.
The brothers form a fractured yet poignant bond. Their fencing scenes radiate competitiveness fused with affection’s lingering trace. Subtexts of envy, loyalty, and longing emerge between winning point and next salute.
Ding Ning commands as the protective yet conflicted Ai Ling. Concealing past pains, she hovers between maternal wisdom and her own denial. Ning ensures we grasp what drove this divide yet ache for resolutions.
Secondary performances deepen the tapestry, from Rosen’s tender portrayals to Lin Tsu-Heng’s compassion. But the brothers remain the beating hearts, their relationship dissected via piercing gazes, chance touches, and the truths waiting beneath every meticulously crafted mask.
Pierce triumphs through its characters. Low and her cast delve into troubled psyches with care, peeling back layers to reveal humanity on each side of every divide. Themes of perception, deception, and reconciliation are powerfully woven into families, lovers, and lives defined by what remains unsaid.
Harmonic Resonance
Sound plays a vital role in Pierce’s atmosphere. Composer Piotr Kurek’s score intensifies unease while embedding familiar melodies that tug at nostalgia.
The brothers’ favorite song, Neil Sedaka’s “Oh Carol,” recurs to bittersweet effect. Hearing its cheery tune during flashbacks of their youth, one detects sorrow beneath carefree laughter.
Meanwhile, Kurek crafts his own pieces to unnerve. Scraping, shadowy notes echo the creeping dread beneath facades of normalcy. During intense bouts, his strains intensify dread of exposure through the fencer’s mask.
Production design similarly hints at depths below surfaces. Set designer Anthropic envisions a gleaming yet icy Taipei. Subtle color choices paint scenes in tones mirroring conflicts beneath polite exchanges.
Costumes likewise imply tensions beneath fabrics. The cut of Ai Ling’s glamorous gowns belies private torments, while Han’s utilitarian garb covers motivations less transparent than his blades.
Most potent are moments of wordless expression. In a duel’s breathless pause, sound designer Tu Duu-chih’s absence of noise speaks volumes. His capturing of each lung’s crisp whoosh imbues routines with renewed stakes.
Together, Pierce’s artisans forge an immersive experience where aesthetic elements resonate with psychological nuance, enhancing the film’s ability to impact hearts as deftly as the brothers’ foils.
Reflections in the Mask
Pierce delves into a few profound themes resonating well beyond its familial storyline.
Identity and perception emerge as central subjects. Jie questions who his brother truly is—the guiding light of memory or something darker. We too view events through his eyes, left doubting realities.
This reflects how we all perceive varying facets of ourselves and relationships over time. Memories may blend truth with desire, shifting our understanding of past and present alike.
Brotherly bonds form another layer of exploration. Affinity strains against suspicions in Jie and Han’s bond. Behind facades, affection’s durability withstands distrust’s corroding.
Their connection echoes all close ties conditioned by past puzzles and present perplexities, hints of redemption tempered by wounds left festering too long.
Low leaves interpretation of these themes ambiguous, as life often does. Jie reaches no definite clarity, merely a gut choice over bewildering contradictions.
Pierce resonates beyond its Taiwan setting too. Cultural norms of family, justice, and social integration underlie current interpersonal dilemmas worldwide.
Overall, it ponderingly reflects our fallibility when perceiving life’s gray areas through lenses of past pains or present yearnings. Fences drop in fencing’s last moments, unveiling hidden facets of ourselves and each other.
Masks Falling
In Pierce, Nelicia Low crafts a nuanced psychological drama that leaves lingering impressions. Through her direction and committed performances, subtle themes emerge of memory’s fallibility, identity’s complexity, and love’s resilience in the face of life’s ambiguities.
Low’s sophisticated treatment of these intricate subjects deserves praise. Intimate moments ring true while overarching mysteries retain their intrigue. Striking visuals and nuanced sound further a multifaceted experience as compelling as the brothers’ mental feints.
While certain flourishes feel heavy-handed, Low succeeds far more in her understated mastery. She invites reflection on perceptions and connections forged from what lies unsaid between people. Like fencers anticipating each other, viewers are kept unbalanced yet invested.
Ultimately, Pierce resonates through refraining from clear conclusions, much as life offers few. But Low’s empathy for flawed characters and their entangled bonds rings authentic. Her debut proves that beneath stylistic masks lie depths demanding close scrutiny, just as within relationships’ intricacies reside resilient threads of caring when rumination replaces rush to judgment.
In welcoming ambiguity over easy answers, Pierce challenges viewers as much as it moves them. Its memories linger in thoughtful meditation on what we see in others and bring to relationships, along with hopes for understanding where certainties fall short. Low emerges as a director warranting keen attention with her nuanced portrayals of humanity in all its shadowed complexity.
The Review
Pierce
Pierce proves a thought-provoking debut from Nelicia Low, worthy of appreciation for its understated psychological portraiture and invitations to contemplation. While not without flaws, on the whole it effortlessly immerses viewers in a multilayered family drama to explore the resilience of intimacy amid life's obscure zones.
PROS
- Nuanced direction and performances that bring complex characters to life
- Evocative cinematography and use of soundtrack to set moody tone
- Subtle exploration of meaningful themes like identity, perception, and love
- Ambiguous narrative kept viewers engaged and thinking
- Captured familial tensions with empathy and subtlety
CONS
- Certain flashback/fantasy scenes felt heavy-handed.
- Ambiguous endings may frustrate some looking for closure.
- Potentially some slow pacing for less patient viewers
