Lifestyle
‘Left-Handed Girl’ takes on quiet shame across generations in Taipei
Shih-Yuan Ma as I-Ann, Nina Ye as I-Jing and Janel Tsai as Shu-Fen in Left-Handed Girl. The movie is streaming on Netflix starting Friday.
Left-Handed Girl Film Production Co./Netflix
hide caption
toggle caption
Left-Handed Girl Film Production Co./Netflix
Early on in Shih-Ching Tsou’s Left-Handed Girl, one of its protagonists, an adorable Taiwanese girl named I-Jing (Nina Ye), is told by her grandpa that her left-handedness is a curse. “Don’t use left-hand in my house,” he says to her, yanking a crayon from her left hand into her right and sending a bolt of fear through the impressionable 5-year-old. “Left hand is evil,” he scolds. “It belongs to the devil.” The premise of Netflix’s newest Mandarin-language film might seem trivial, but learning about her “devil’s hand” brings I-Jing a quiet shame that is difficult to shake. Internalizing an age-old superstition, I-Jing silently begins to navigate the bustling city of Taipei with her much weaker right-hand, which takes on a life of its own. What she doesn’t know is that the rest of her family has their own version of a “devil’s hand” too.
In Tsou’s charming solo directorial debut, I-Jing, her teenage sister and their mother have just moved back to Taipei after years away in the countryside. Their mother Shu-Fen (Janel Tsai), opens a noodle stand in the capital’s famous night markets in an attempt to start a new life for her family. But a fresh start is rarely an easy one. Day after day, Shu-Fen toils to keep her food stall and family afloat — trying to pay the stall’s rent while juggling the debt she accumulated from her ex-husband’s funeral, and taking care of her daughters, who couldn’t be more different. The youngest, I-Jing, is steeped in an innocent earnestness, while her older sister, I-Ann (Shih-Yuan Ma), carries the fierce determination of an angsty teen intent on proving she can support the family better than anyone else.

Tsou and longtime collaborator Sean Baker co-wrote and produced the project, and Baker edited. Their distinct style is abundant throughout Left-Handed Girl, which strikes a delicate balance between intimacy and playfulness in a story that centers those historically on the margins. The two have worked side-by-side since co-directing Take Out in 2004, with Tsou’s influence woven through films that launched Baker into the spotlight, from Tangerine to The Florida Project to Red Rocket. Shot entirely on iPhones, like 2015’s Tangerine, the film uses the city of Taipei as its canvas and shows its landscape through the lens of each of its characters. It’s a treat being immersed in the brightly-colored, and often overwhelming night market from the point of view of I-Jing, who interacts with each stall like it’s her personal playground before dashing off to the next one.
Nina Ye as I-Jing and Shih-Yuan Ma as I-Ann in Left-Handed Girl.
Left-Handed Girl Film Production Co./Netflix
hide caption
toggle caption
Left-Handed Girl Film Production Co./Netflix
Shih-Yuan Ma as I-Ann, Nina Ye as I-Jing and Janel Tsai as Shu-Fen in Left-Handed Girl.
Left-Handed Girl Film Production Co./Netflix
hide caption
toggle caption
Left-Handed Girl Film Production Co./Netflix
While Left-Handed Girl initially appears to center I-Jing and her cursed hand, the film pays equal attention to its female protagonists. Spanning multiple generations, Tsou offers the viewer a window into each character’s struggle between duty and desire, as they navigate a society where the personal largely remains private. Shu-Fen might be the caretaker of her three-unit family, but she remains the black sheep within her own. “A married daughter’s like water poured out,” her mother says to her after refusing to lend her daughter money, perpetuating a traditional belief that daughters are worthless once they are married. And during a family outing, Shu-Fen reluctantly opens up, only to have her sisters loudly bicker over her decisions as if they were their own.
Meanwhile, I-Ann spends most of her days at the betel nut stall, where she oscillates between flirting with older men for money, making snarky comments at the attractive young woman who just started working there, and sleeping with her sleazy boss. I-Ann’s stonewalled expression and high-pony attitude gives off the impression she doesn’t care about the job, and much less, her boss. But in moments of vulnerability, like after I-Ann attends a party with a former classmate who, unlike her, is attending college, cracks begin to appear in an otherwise tightly-wound facade. I-Ann’s commitment to and reluctance toward fulfilling her responsibilities are felt simultaneously in scenes of transit, as she whizzes through the streets and highways of Taipei on her scooter, en route to pick up her little sister, keep a watchful eye over the noodle stand, or sneak in her own small rebellions. I-Ann might scoff, but at the end of the day, she always shows up.
How much can a family bear before it begins to burst? Left-Handed Girl seeks to ask, as each character’s internal tensions bleed into broader family dynamics, culminating in more of an explosion than a slow unraveling. But perhaps the ultimate test of strength occurs when the dam breaks, Tsou seems to argue — when the water begins to flood, washing away old traditions and instead, creating something surprising and new.
Lifestyle
L.A. Times Concierge: Where can we go for a fun morning out with our toddler before nap time?
I’m looking for something that’s open early on the weekends (9 a.m.?) where we can take our 2-year-old daughter. We don’t want it to be an indoor play place or something that is solely designed for kids. Ideally, it would be something that adults enjoy too. Maybe something outdoors or with a restaurant/cafe where we can give ourselves a little treat. We are in Manhattan Beach and have to be back home by 12:30 p.m. for nap time. We’ve been able to make drives to Pasadena and Orange County and make it back in time (bonus of leaving on a Saturday or Sunday because there’s no traffic!) — Brittany Newell
Here’s what we suggest:
Finding places that will keep both you and your toddler entertained can be tricky. But don’t fret, Brittany! I’ve enlisted the help of some of my colleagues who are also parents that understand the need to flee the house before nap time. I’ve compiled a list of fun mini adventures that you can start early-ish.
For an activity close to home, Michelle Woo, The Times’ West Coast experiences editor, suggests renting a toddler bike trailer or bike seat from one of the local shops and taking a ride along the Strand from Manhattan to Redondo and back to Hermosa for a stop at Good Stuff, a beachside restaurant where you can enjoy a refreshing smoothie, mimosa or Woo’s go-to order, “the Good Stuff Breakfast with a pork sausage patty — simple yet comforting.” Then let your daughter play in the sand for a while. And if you haven’t been to the Roundhouse Aquarium before, it’s definitely worth a visit. The free, donation-based marine educational center is home to swell sharks, sea urchins, jellyfish and more that will leave visitors of any age in awe.
About 12 miles up the coast in Venice Beach is the newly renovated Windward Plaza Playground, a nautical-themed fun zone equipped with slides, swings, climbers and more. The best part is that it’s located on the sand at the beach just steps away from the famous boardwalk. Before you get to the park, my colleague Amy King suggests stopping by Breakaway Cafe for yummy breakfast burritos or Menotti’s for coffee.
For an early morning adventure, Times entertainment and features editor Brittany Levine Beckman recommends visiting the Riverside bike path in Frogtown, which opens at 6 a.m., so you can start as early as you’d like. She and her husband usually take turns pushing their 18-month-old daughter in a tricycle along the pathway and get their steps in. Afterward, she suggests going to Lingua Franca, a restaurant situated along the river. “We’ve arrived a few times as soon as the restaurant opens at 10 a.m. on the weekend and been the only early-bird brunchers,” she tells me. “We grab a table outside in the back and our daughter meanders without us feeling annoying.” The restaurant also serves a toddler-approved Dutch baby and a parent-approved bloody Mary, she adds. If you prefer to just grab a coffee, go to Tadaa.Coffee, which has a sand pit that your daughter can play in.
Another fun option is the Natural History Museum in Exposition Park, where you can wander through the awe-inspiring Dinosaur Hall, learn about the evolution of mammals, roam through the enchanting nature gardens and admire more than 2,000 gems and minerals from across the globe. The museum opens at 9:30 a.m., but there’s still plenty of time to explore before nap time. Levine Beckman also enjoys taking her daughter to the museum. “Our toddler loves the animal dioramas,” she tells me. “She likes staring up at the dinosaur bones too (and can say “roar” now), but the big stuffed animals are her favorite.” For food, my colleague Sophia Kercher recommends South LA Cafe, which is located at the museum.
Now for some rapid-fire ideas: Kercher suggests the Stoneview Nature Center, which is a plant-filled city sanctuary nestled in Culver City’s Blair Hills. Here you can chase hummingbirds, roam through the never-crowded garden and “visit Stoneview’s resident quails, which have their own fenced-in compound called, ‘Quallywood,’” she says. Times contributor Rachel Kraus, who recently wrote about the rise of mall parks in Southern California (and why parents are loving them), suggests the Proud Bird near LAX, which she calls “a one stop shop parent and kid utopia.” She adds, “You can order food and drinks (including from a full bar) and let your kids run around on the outdoor play structure, kick a ball on the turf or explore the vintage airplanes.” Also, be sure to check out our list of L.A. playgrounds that are close to coffee shops where you can get a jolt of energy if needed.
I hope these suggestions are helpful with planning your next morning adventure with your toddler and that you are able to create some fun new memories together. Happy exploring!
Lifestyle
Zendaya brings ‘The Drama,’ we bring the spoilers : Pop Culture Happy Hour
Zendaya in The Drama.
A24
hide caption
toggle caption
A24
The Drama is a dark and twisty comedy starring Zendaya and Robert Pattinson as a storybook couple preparing for their upcoming wedding. But just days before the big day, she reveals a horrifying truth about her past self that threatens to undo their nuptials, and their bond. In this spoiler-packed episode, we’re getting into that reveal, and all the surprising drama of the movie.
Follow Pop Culture Happy Hour on Letterboxd at letterboxd.com/nprpopculture
Lifestyle
At Catch One, a funk concert transports you to 1974 — and it’s immersive theater at its finest
The man I’m talking to tells me he has no name.
“Hey” is what he responds to, and he says he can be best described as a “travel agent,” a designation said with a sly smile to clearly indicate it’s code for something more illicit.
About eight of us are crammed with him into a tiny area tucked in the corner of a nightclub. Normally, perhaps, this is a make-up room, but tonight it’s a hideaway where he’ll feed us psychedelics (they’re just mints) to escape the brutalities of the world. It’s also loud, as the sounds of a rambunctious funk band next door work to penetrate the space.
Celeste Butler Clayton as Ursa Major and Ari Herstand as Copper Jones lead a group of theater attendees in a pre-show ritual.
(Gabriella Angotti-Jones / For The Times)
”Close your eyes,” I’m told. I let the mint begin to melt while trying to pretend it’s a gateway to a dream state. The more that mint peddler talks, the more it becomes clear he’s suffering from PTSD from his days in Vietnam. But the mood isn’t somber. We don’t need any make-believe substances to catch his drift, particularly his belief that, even if music may not change the world, at least it can provide some much-needed comfort from it.
“Brassroots District: LA ’74” is part concert, part participatory theater and part experiment, attempting to intermix an evening of dancing and jubilation with high-stakes drama. How it plays out is up to each audience member. Follow the cast, and uncover war tales and visions of how the underground music scene became a refuge for the LGBTQ+ community. Watch the band, and witness a concert almost torn apart as a group on the verge of releasing its debut album weighs community versus cold commerce. Or ignore it all to play dress-up and get a groove on to the music that never stops.
Audience members are encouraged to partake in a “Soul Train”-style dance exhibition.
(Gabriella Angotti-Jones / For The Times)
Now running at Catch One, “Brassroots District” aims to concoct a fantasy vision of 1974, but creators Ari Herstand and Andrew Leib aren’t after pure nostalgia. The fictional band at the heart of the show, for instance, is clearly a nod to Sly and the Family Stone, a group whose musical vision of unity and perseverance through social upheaval still feels ahead of its time. “Brassroots District” also directly taps into the history of Catch One, with a character modeled after the club’s pioneering founder Jewel Thais-Williams, a vital figure on the L.A. music scene who envisioned a sanctuary for Black queer women and men as well as trans, gay and musically adventurous revelers.
“This is the era of Watergate and Nixon and a corrupt president,” Herstand says, noting that the year of 1974 was chosen intentionally. “There’s very clear political parallels from the early ‘70s to 2026. We don’t want to smack anyone in the face over it, but we want to ask the questions about where we’ve come from.”
This isn’t the first time a version of “Brassroots District” has been staged. Herstand, a musician and author, and Leib, an artist manager, have been honing the concept for a decade. It began as an idea that came to Herstand while he spent time staying with extended family in New Orleans to work on his book, “How to Make it in the New Music Business.” And it initially started as just a band, and perhaps a way to create an excitement around a new group.
Ari Herstand as musician Copper Jones in an intimate moment with the audience.
(Gabriella Angotti-Jones / For The Times)
Celeste Butler Clayton (Ursa Major), from left, Ari Herstand (Copper Jones), Bryan Daniel Porter (Donny) and Marqell Edward Clayton (Gil) in a tense moment.
(Gabriella Angotti-Jones/For The Times)
Yet as the pair became smitten with immersive theater — a term that typically implies some form of active involvement on the part of the audience, most often via interacting and improvising with actors — Brassroots District the band gradually became “Brassroots District” the show. Like many in the space, Herstand credits the long-running New York production “Sleep No More” with hipping him to the scene.
“It’s really about an alternative experience to a traditional proscenium show, giving the audience autonomy to explore,” Herstand says.
Eleven actors perform in the show, directed by DeMone Seraphin and written with input from L.A. immersive veterans Chris Porter (the Speakeasy Society) and Lauren Ludwig (Capital W). I interacted with only a handful of them, but “Brassroots District” builds to a participatory finale that aims to get the whole audience moving when the band jumps into the crowd for a group dance. The night is one of wish fulfillment for music fans, offering the promise of behind-the-stage action as well as an idealized vision of funk’s communal power.
Working in the favor of “Brassroots District” is that, ultimately, it is a concert. Brassroots District, the group, released its debut “Welcome to the Brassroots District” at the top of this year, and audience members who may not want to hunt down or chase actors can lean back and watch the show, likely still picking up on its broad storyline of a band weighing a new recording contract with a potentially sleazy record executive. Yet Herstand and Leib estimate that about half of those in attendance want to dig a little deeper.
At the show’s opening weekend this past Saturday, I may even wager it was higher than that. When a mid-concert split happens that forces the band’s two co-leaders — Herstand as Copper Jones and Celeste Butler Clayton as Ursa Major — to bolt from the stage, the audience immediately knew to follow them into the other room, even as the backing band played on. Leib, borrowing a term from the video game world, describes these as “side quests,” moments in which the audience can better get to know the performers, the club owner and the act’s manager.
“Brassroots District: LA ‘74” is wish fulfillment for music fans, providing, for instance, backstage-like access to artists. Here, Celeste Butler Clayton performs as musician Ursa Major and is surrounded by ticket-goers.
(Gabriella Angotti-Jones / For The Times)
An audience member’s costume.
(Gabriella Angotti-Jones / For The Times)
Yet those who stay in the main stage will still get some show moments, as here is where a journalist will confront a record executive. Both will linger around the floor and chat with willing guests, perhaps even offering them a business card with a number to call after the show to further the storyline beyond the confines of the club. If all goes according to plan, the audience will start to feel like performers. In fact, the central drama of “Brassroots District” is often kicked off by an attendee finding some purposely left-behind props that allude to the group’s record label drama. Actors, say Herstand, will “loosely guide” players to the right spot, if need be.
“The point is,” says Leib, “that you as an audience member are also kind of putting on a character. You can stir the spot.” And with much of the crowd in their ‘70s best and smartphones strictly forbidden — they are placed in bags prior to the show beginning — you may need a moment to figure out who the actors are, but a microphone usually gives it away.
“They’re a heightened version of themselves,” Herstand says of the audience’s penchant to come in costumes to “Brassroots District,” although it is not necessary.
“Brassroots District,” which is about two hours in length, is currently slated to run through the end of March, but Herstand and Leib hope it becomes a long-running performance. Previous iterations with different storylines ran outdoors, as it was first staged in the months following the worst days of the pandemic. Inside, at places such as Catch One, was always the goal, the pair say, and the two leaned into the venue’s history.
“Brassroots District: LA ’74”
“It’s in the bones of the building that this was a respite for queer men and the Black community,” Leib says. “There’s a bit of like, this is a safe space to be yourself. We’re baking in some of these themes in the show. It’s resistance through art and music.”
Such a message comes through in song. One of the band’s central tunes is “Together,” an allusion to Sly and the Family Stone’s “Everyday People.” It’s a light-stepping number built around finger snaps and the vision of a better world.
“We are stronger when we unite,” Herstand says. “That is the hook of the song, and what we’re really trying to do is bring people together. That is how we feel we actually can change society.”
And on this night, that’s exactly what progress looks like — an exuberant party that extends a hand for everyone to dance with a neighbor.
-
South-Carolina1 week agoSouth Carolina vs TCU predictions for Elite Eight game in March Madness
-
Atlanta, GA2 days ago1 teenage girl killed, another injured in shooting at Piedmont Park, police say
-
Vermont1 week ago
Skier dies after fall at Sugarbush Resort
-
Movie Reviews4 days agoVaazha 2 first half review: Hashir anchors a lively, chaos-filled teen tale
-
Politics1 week agoTrump’s Ballroom Design Has Barely Been Scrutinized
-
Atlanta, GA1 week agoFetishist ‘No Kings’ protester in mask drags ‘Trump’ and ‘JD Vance’ behind her wheelchair
-
Entertainment5 days agoInside Ye’s first comeback show at SoFi Stadium
-
Politics1 week agoJD Vance says he was ‘obsessed’ with UFOs, believes aliens are actually ‘demons’