How fast do you have to run to truly escape your past? This is a question that has been posed in many different ways over the centuries, with the idea of disappearing into the ether and starting anew in entirely different places being a theme that has fascinated artists for generations. It is also a subject that we find informs a lot of immigrant stories, especially in terms of looking at those who attempt to escape homelands torn apart by war or where they are otherwise unable to thrive in the way that they feel meets their abilities. Bing Liu uses this as the central conversation that guides Preparation for the Next Life, his audacious second directorial outing and his first narrative feature. He adapts the novel of the same title by Atticus Lish, which follows Aishe, a young Uyghur woman, who finds herself getting off the bus in New York City – her past is entirely ambiguous, and we are not sure of the circumstances that led to her present situation. However, she is focused on the future more than anything else, which is aided considerably by a chance encounter with Skinner, who has recently returned to the United States after serving in the military in the Middle East, and who is also trying to start a new life in New York City, hoping that he can shed the challenges that come with having served for a country that simply does not show the appreciation for their troops, at least in his opinion. Over the course of a few months, Aishe and Skinner engage in a torrid, complex romance in which their sincere affection for one another is frequently undercut by a sense of impending doom, especially since Aishe is hiding large parts of her past, which include the fact that she entered the country entirely illegally, and doesn’t even have a valid form of identification, rendering Skinner’s plans to marry her (both as a means to consolidate their love for one another and to help her gain the right to stay in the United States) entirely futile, one of the many challenges that this couple faces as they navigate a volatile, frustrating relationship. Liu has proven to be an essential voice (his debut Minding the Gap is a masterpiece), and while it may sometimes feel lacking in focus, Preparation for the Next Life is nonetheless an incredibly well-crafted, meaningful film that underlines several important topics with precision and sincerity.

Many complex ideas inform Preparation for the Next Life, which is a film that is built around the subject of love as both an emotional connection and a political statement. The idea of falling in love with a stranger from outside our culture has been widespread, and it is certainly not at all unique as far as subject matter goes. However, it does prove to be quite effective in how it handles a number of very complex ideas, never aiming for the most obvious points of discussion as far as its thematic material goes. At a glance, the film is essentially a story of an immigrant trying to adapt to her new home in the United States – for about as long as it has been recognised as a country, there has always been the topic of the American Dream, with the idea that it is truly a land of endless possibilities and prosperity for those willing to put in the work being one that has often lingered over how many view the country. However, we often see that this is not always the case, and now more than ever before, we’re witnessing challenges relating to immigration, a subject that is out of the scope of this discussion, as far as details are concerned. However, it’s clear where the director was drawing a lot of his inspiration, particularly in how he realises that the original novel, while certainly a fascinating exploration of the immigrant experience, is about much more than this, and has many intriguing nuances that ultimately do make it surprisingly quite refreshing in a way that is sometimes difficult to pin down into precise words. It’s essentially the story of two lost souls finding themselves in the most famous city in the United States – one who snuck in to escape her home country, the other returning from a similar place, but who doesn’t recognise the country he is returning to. They both feel invisible, chasing after ghosts that exist solely within their mind, and in the process, they manage to find one another, becoming the remedy to what ails them both. It’s a compelling deconstruction of loneliness and the challenges that come with existing in a world you cannot ever truly understand, leading to a film that is bold, daring and uncompromising in its vision.

Based on its subject matter, it is reasonable to assume that Preparation for the Next Life is going to be primarily a character study, a two-hander built around dual perspectives that drives the overall narrative. This is indeed where Liu settles for the most part, which is extremely easy when taking into account the fact that he finds incredible collaborators in the form of Sebiye Behtiyar and Fred Hechinger, who are extraordinary in the film. Behtiyar is making her film debut, and very rarely do we find someone delivering their first performance in any medium being this wholeheartedly impressive, which is a credit to both the director for finding her and the actor for taking the time to very quickly develop the necessary skills to play this role. Her inexperience is a feature rather than a flaw, since she brings a naturalism and honesty to a character that would have likely been heavy-handed if given to someone with a more substantial body of work. The brilliance in her performance is how open and direct she is, and while she doesn’t get too many opportunities to emote, she is working with a director who understands some of the most incredible moments of acting are those that involve reacting, which is exactly what we find drives Behtiyar’s extraordinary performance. Hechinger, conversely, has been steadily rising in profile – a rambunctious young actor who is as talented as he is effortlessly charismatic, he proves that he is as adept at drama as he is comedy, bringing the role of Skinner to life with a quiet restraint that never feels like he is playing a stereotype, even when the film tries to mislead us into thinking that he is nothing more than the archetypal former soldier trying to re-assimilate into society. As a film about lost souls finding each other and trying to make sense of a world none of them understand, Preparation for the Next Life is superbly cast, and while there aren’t any other standout performances (the supporting cast is kept at a distance on purpose, as a means to reflect the alienation these characters feel), the two leads capture every emotional nuance required to make this film effective.

The director certainly did have his work cut out for him in terms of handling the emotions present throughout this film. Despite being, at its core, a love story about two people finding one another and becoming a balm that helps them recover from past trauma, this is an extraordinarily sad film, and one that doesn’t contain too much joy. In the hands of another director, Preparation for the Next Life would likely be hopelessly overwrought, a melodramatic affair without any nuance or tact, and which presented the trials and tribulations of this couple in a way that underlined the sadness, rather than developing it in an authentic, detailed way. This is where Liu truly thrives, since he is not someone who particularly seems to care for bold swings – it’s far more effective to keep everything simple and recognisably human, since it is in here that we find many of the most interesting conversations. Such conversations feel earnest, sincere, and ultimately resonate much more deeply. The filmmaking is kept simple and mostly unfurnished, which allows the film to play out in a way that is much quieter and more sincere, a moving depiction of two people who navigate hostile surroundings in the hopes of progressing forward. However, something that the director does seem to focus on is redirecting the story away from just being about the relationship between these characters (it’s a surprisingly unromantic film), and instead looks at them as individuals, two hopelessly lonely people who don’t understand how to exist, and who genuinely believe that companionship will give them a sense of belonging. It’s not surprising that Preparation for the Next Life ends on such a sombre, ambigious note – this is something that anchors the film, and prevents it from becoming too heavy-handed or sentimental, a choice that may not be all that endearing, but has an honesty and cynicism that we can truly appreciate.

Preparation for the Next Life does not give us the happy ending we crave, nor does it tie up the loose ends in a way that is satisfying or comforting. Instead, it delivers a stark and direct statement on the nature of love and how it can sometimes be much harder to exist in dialogue with someone than it is to be isolated from the rest of society. We all likely know the feeling of standing in the middle of a busy street, watching the hustle and bustle pass us by, while still feeling a crippling loneliness – this film captures this exact sensation, and while it can be quite bleak and depressing at times, there’s an honesty and integrity to how Liu sets out to explore this subject, a kind of quiet elegance that is difficult to put directly into words, but which ultimately does serve a vital purpose in the development of this film and its core ideas. Anchored by exceptional performances by Behtiyar and Hechinger, who commit fully to bringing this story to life, and beautifully directed by someone who sees the potential to make unique statements on very common concepts in the most unexpected of places, the film is an immense achievement. It’s small and intimate, but it feels like it is touching on a raw nerve that is often missing in a lot of similarly themed films. Preparation for the Next Life is an incredible spectacle of a film, a daring and provocative achievement that is truly extraordinary in how it handles certain ideas with tact, nuance and an enigmatic sense of curiosity towards the human condition, proving to be one of the year’s most enthralling and captivating gems.