Bing Liu’s first two feature-length documentaries, 2019’s Minding the Gap and 2021’s All These Sons, showed his penchant for tackling challenging, tragic topics like abuse and gun violence with a dash of hopefulness. His fiction feature debut, Preparation for the Next Life, adapted by Martyna Majok from Atticus Lish’s 2014 novel of the same name, continues that trend. Liu approaches the story of young love between an immigrant and a recently discharged U.S. soldier with an uncommon sensitivity, bringing a touch of optimism and pathos to the film while keeping it grounded and unsentimental.
When Aishe (Sebiye Behtiyar), an Uyghur woman fighting to stay in the U.S., and Skinner (Fred Hechinger), an American soldier struggling with PTSD, lock eyes on the streets of New York City, Preparation for the Next Life briefly flirts with preciousness. But soon after this meet-cute, the film settles into a more acutely observational mode, its scenes marked by a refreshing emotional candor, with as much said through facial expressions and touch as dialogue.
Liu observes his main characters with patience and a pointed curiosity—that is, with a documentarian’s eye—as in an early scene when Aishe and Skinner flirt inside a small club. Aishe has the drive and gritty toughness shared by many immigrants, and in the spirit of competition, she pounds a Corona before nodding to Skinner, cueing him to do the same. Across this scene, which unfolds without the characters saying a word, the camera is alive to erotic pull of the club as a catalyst for romantic passion and Aishe and Skinner’s playful game of seduction.
One small, shrewd decision after another allows Preparation for the Next Life to sustain its naturalism to the end. Indeed, the decision to focus on Aishe outside of her relationship with Skinner prevents the film from overstating its case on the importance of love in even the harshest of circumstances. Newcomer Sebiye Behtiyar beautifully balances Aishe’s desire for that romantic connection with her more pragmatic needs to earn a living without proper documentation and to find, with little assistance, a way to legalize her status in a country growing ever-harsher to non-white immigrants or refugees.
From trying to find a way to get free advice about the potential benefits of marrying an American, to bickering with her boss (Eddie Yu) at a Chinatown restaurant for stiffing her for overtime she worked, Aishe exhibits a toughness and resilience that rings true to her character. Yet, the film never sugarcoats her situation or buys into the false reality that because she has a strong work ethic and street smarts, she’ll somehow find a way to navigate her way out of her nearly impossible situation. She experiences joy in the first act as she falls for Skinner, though it’s mostly fleeting, as the weight of both of their situations forces them to confront the limited choices that are available to them—economically, romantically, and politically.
While the story is mostly focused on Aishe and her relationship to Skinner, we get glimpses into his battle with PTSD, complicated by his dishonorable discharge losing him his veteran benefits. We initially get the sense that he and Aishe would be stronger together than apart, for being better able to support each other, but the film questions how much of that may be wishful thinking given Skinner’s random outbursts of frustration and inability to function in society. Liu doesn’t shy away from the toxic aspects of Aishe and Skinner’s relationship, even confronting the fact that it’s far more beneficial for her to keep the flame alive than it is for him.
It’s all part and parcel of Preparation for the Next Life’s clear-eyed portrait of life on the edges of American society, where the disappearance of social safety nets has made that life that much tougher to endure. Aishe and Skinner are left without any avenues for assistance or support outside of one another, and the film smartly recognizes that a relationship may not be able to survive if one partner can’t help themselves. In this regard, it’s an honest and heartfelt film, and it’s all the better for not wallowing in misery or manipulatively jerking at the heart strings. Rather, it’s as unvarnished in its understanding of the hurdles that disrupt the lives of people like Aishe and Skinner as it is of the joys that are still to be found amid such circumstances.
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