Written and directed by Nelicia Low, Pierce infuses family drama with elements of psychological thriller, effectively giving us a thought-provoking tale about what it takes to love and forgive.
The film stars Liu Hsiu-Fu as Zijie, a teenage fencer who is trying to land a spot on his school’s team. He’s decently skilled with a sabre, but nowhere near as talented as his national-champion old brother, Zihan (Tsao Yu-Ning). What Zijie needs is to focus, but, as of late, he can’t seem to shake the memory of his near-downing years ago, an incident that involved Zihan. Zijie’s anxiety worsens when he learns that Zihan, who is serving a prison sentence for the death of a fencing opponent a few years back, is about to be released earlier than planned.
However, at the same time, when his brother unexpectedly shows up at his training facility, wanting to reconnect (and give him some fencing and dating tips along the way), Zijie can’t resist the desire to have Zihan back in his life again. For Zijie, whose father died from cancer and whose mother Ai Ling (Ding Ning) has all but emotionally abandoned him in favour of her blossoming new romance, Zihan seems to be the only family he has left. But despite the fun they’re having, the question on Zijie’s mind is: did Zihan want him to drown all those years ago — and, by extension, can he really trust his brother again?
Interestingly, Low gives us the answer at the beginning of Pierce, in a scene where we very clearly see Zihan charming his case worker to get what he wants (which is presumably why he’s being released early). But this early revelation is far from detrimental to the film: instead, Low makes full use of the undercurrent of anxiety that simmers from this point as we watch Zihan worm his way back into his naive younger brother’s life. Even when he’s coaching Zijie about the psychological aspect of fencing — how it’s about studying your opponent and knowing when they’ll strike, while also hiding your own intentions — it’s all very pointed, but nonetheless dread-inducing precisely because we might be privy to who Zihan is, but we don’t entirely know what he wants.
It helps that Tsao is equally chilling and captivating as Zihan. He charms without laying it on too thick, and he schemes in a way that feels playful — like an older brother teasing his younger sibling. But there’s also a dark edge to his performance that suggests a disturbing truth about his character. Opposite him, Liu holds his own as Zijie, striking the perfect balance between naive and hopeful. He’s a kid who has had to grow up too quickly, and Liu’s vulnerability reminds us of the foundational human desire for love and family.
A sports film, a family drama, and a psychological thriller, there are a lot of generic elements in Pierce that, on paper, might not seem well-matched, but Low is in full control of the film, weaving a taut mystery that is, at once, heartfelt and unnerving. Chances are you won’t expect the way it ends, and it’ll leave you with a lot to consider, but it works for this film. After all, humans (and human relationships) are complicated. Like a broken blade, they’ll leave their mark.
The 28th edition of the Toronto Reel Asian International Film Festival runs in-person and online November 13-24. For tickets, scheduling, and other details about this year’s programming, visit the festival’s website.
