The architecture of the ensemble film rests on the pleasing coincidence of lives intersecting, often beginning with a moment of contained chaos. Worth the Wait builds its world from such a moment, a shared ride to a hospital that tangles together a set of strangers who will become essential to one another.
The film’s narrative unfolds across Seattle and Kuala Lumpur, asking the viewer to follow multiple threads simultaneously as paths cross and futures are subtly redrawn. There is the promising new romance between Leah, a hospital aide, and Kai, a businessman, which is kindled just before an ocean separates them. We also follow the high school love between Blake and Riley, a bond tested by the watchful eye of her overprotective guardian.
A far heavier story tracks the married couple Teresa and Nathan as they navigate the profound, silent tragedy of a stillborn child. Elsewhere, two celebrity ex-lovers, actress Amanda and director Scott, find their past and present colliding on a film set. Through these carefully intertwined stories, the film presents a broad, thoughtful examination of human connection in its many forms—romantic, familial, and the simple, unexpected solace found in a new friendship.
Orbits of Varying Light
The film’s central romance between Leah (Lana Condor) and Kai (Ross Butler) provides a stable, if somewhat conventional, anchor. Their chemistry is immediate, sparked in a hospital meet-cute, but their story is defined by the conflict of a long-distance relationship.
This separation is bridged by a clever visual motif where moments of deep emotional intimacy place them in the same room, collapsing the thousands of miles between them into a single, shared space. A brighter and more emotionally resonant spot in the film’s constellation is the subplot involving teenagers Blake (Ricky He) and Riley (Ali Fumiko Whitney).
Their dynamic, complicated by Riley’s gruff uncle Curtis (Sung Kang), injects a necessary dose of humor and heartfelt sincerity. Their attempts to date openly evolve from sitcom-style antics into a genuinely mature relationship, producing one of the few arcs that demonstrates a complete and believable evolution.
In stark contrast is the story of Teresa and Nathan, a couple reeling from loss whose grief gives the film a somber, weighty core that sits uneasily alongside the lighter fare. The weakest link in this chain is the narrative of Amanda and Scott.
Their storyline feels perfunctory and emotionally thin, their history as celebrity exes reduced to shorthand, leaving their characters underdeveloped and difficult to invest in. The very structure of the film creates this inherent unevenness; in its ambitious attempt to capture a wide spectrum of life, some stories are inevitably left in the shadows while others get their moment to shine brightly.
The Fabric of Being
Beneath its romantic-comedy surface, the film dedicates significant space to weightier human conditions. It confronts the difficult subject of stillbirth and depression through Teresa and Nathan, portraying their pain not as a plot device but as a quiet, lived-in state of being.
The camera watches as Teresa endures punishing runs to escape a home filled with furniture for a child who never arrived, and it captures Nathan’s silent struggle with his own grief and feelings of inadequacy. Their slow path toward healing, facilitated by support groups and unexpected friendships, is depicted without saccharine shortcuts.
This maturity extends to its other characters. Curtis evolves from a one-note guardian into a man capable of admitting that the fear of failing his late sister is the source of his controlling behavior. Female characters are afforded similar depth; Riley sees her ambition for college as equal to her romantic affections, and Teresa discovers a new strength in offering solace to others.
The film’s most significant statement, however, may be its very existence. With a predominantly Asian and Asian-American cast, it presents a world where cultural identity is a given, not a spectacle. The portrayal of Kuala Lumpur avoids the lens of exoticism, seen in a simple scene where Kai and Leah eat durian, the focus remaining firmly on their interaction. Small details, like references to confinement dishes, are integrated naturally, grounding the story in a specific, authentic reality.
A Modest, Sincere Polish
The film is carried by the strength of its performers, who elevate the often-familiar material. Lana Condor and Ross Butler possess an easy, lived-in rapport that sells their transatlantic romance. Ricky He provides effortless comedic charm and surprising pathos as Blake.
The clear standout is Sung Kang, who gives Uncle Curtis a surprising emotional weight, revealing the deep well of tenderness beneath a stern and protective exterior. Director Tom Lin’s presentation is clean and effective, though it rarely rises above a functional, modest aesthetic that feels suited for the small screen. The visual language is straightforward, lacking the kind of distinctive style that elevates a film from pleasant to memorable.
Worth the Wait is ultimately a work of sincere, well-intentioned filmmaking. Its power comes not from formal innovation or narrative perfection but from its heartfelt performances and its quiet insistence on placing these characters and their world at the center of the frame. The experience is warm and familiar, a picture whose earnest sincerity manages to overcome its structural imperfections and occasional narrative missteps.
Worth the Wait is a romantic comedy-drama that premiered digitally on May 23, 2025, on Tubi across the U.S. Set between Seattle and Malaysia, the film follows interwoven stories of love, loss, and unexpected encounters among Asian-American characters navigating fate and choice.
Full Credits
Director: Tom Lin Shu‑yu
Writers: Maggie Hartmans, Dan Mark, Rachel Tan, Roberto Girault
Producers and Executive Producers: Vincent Xie, Rachel Tan, Dan Mark, Marcus Englefield, Roberto Girault, George Lee, Matt Drake, Lana Condor, Andrew Koji, Andrew Ooi, Jim Yu
Cast: Lana Condor, Andrew Koji, Ross Butler, Sung Kang, Elodie Yung, Karena Lam, Osric Chau, Kheng Hua Tan, Ali Fumiko Whitney, Ricky He, Yu‑Beng Lim, Maia Rose Michaels, Jessica Lee, Carolyn Adair, Chris Bradford
Director of Photography (Cinematographer): Hana Kitasei
Editors: Richard B. Molina
Composers: Jina Hyojin An, Shirley Song
The Review
Worth the Wait
Worth the Wait is a warm and well-intentioned ensemble piece that succeeds more on the strength of its heartfelt performances and sincere cultural representation than on its narrative construction. While the film’s structure feels uneven and some of its storylines lack depth, its charming cast and mature handling of complex emotional themes create a genuinely pleasant viewing experience. It is a familiar, comforting film whose moments of authentic connection and emotional honesty make it easy to recommend, even if it never quite breaks new ground for the genre.
PROS
- A sincere and charming cast with standout performances from Sung Kang and Ricky He.
- Authentic and meaningful representation with its predominantly Asian and Asian-American cast.
- Mature and sensitive handling of difficult themes like grief and loss.
- Some subplots are genuinely heartfelt and emotionally effective.
CONS
- An uneven ensemble structure where some storylines feel underdeveloped.
- The overall plot can be predictable and follows familiar rom-com conventions.
- A functional but visually unremarkable directorial style.
- Some character arcs feel rushed due to the crowded narrative.