Cast: Putthipong Assaratanakul, Usha Seamkhum, Sanya Kunakorn, Sarinrat Thomas, Pongsatorn Jongwilas,Tontawan Tantivejakul
Genre: Comedy, Drama
Director: Pat Boonnitipat
In Irish Cinemas: 27th December 2024
The Thai box-office sensation How to Make Millions Before Grandma Dies is a heartwarming blend of comedy and drama that delves into themes of family loyalty, personal growth, and the lengths we go to for those we love. Balancing humour and sentimentality, the film navigates the chaotic life of a young slacker who reluctantly abandons his struggling game-casting career to care for his terminally ill grandmother. What begins as a begrudging act of duty evolves into a touching journey of self-discovery and familial bonds, culminating in a profoundly emotional, multi-tissue finale.
This intricately crafted, steadily paced crowd favourite marks the feature debut of Thai filmmaker Pat Boonnitipat and has smashed box office records in Thailand and across Southeast Asia. Anchored by a charismatic performance from actor and pop star Putthipong “Billkin” Assaratanakul and a moving portrayal by 78-year-old veteran actress Usha “Taew” Seamkhum, the film masterfully captures universal truths about love, loss, and the fleeting nature of time. Its heartfelt message—cherishing our loved ones while we can—resonates across cultures, making it a cinematic experience as relatable as it profoundly affects.
How many hit films begin and end in a cemetery? This unique setting bookends the story, introducing us to the formidable, opinionated Grandma of the title—a Thai matriarch of Chinese heritage. At the outset, she commands her extended family during the Qingming festival, a time-honored tradition to pay respects at her parents’ grave. These ancestors rest in what one of Grandma’s grown children tactfully describes as a “townhouse” burial arrangement—a layered gravesite, with one burial stacked atop another. Grandma, however, dreams of a prestigious solo burial plot for herself, a luxury that would cost millions of baht and is far beyond the means of her family.
Things take an unexpected turn when a minor accident lands Grandma in the hospital. Doctors deliver devastating news: she has Stage 4 cancer, and her return to the graveyard may come much sooner than anyone anticipated. Her three children—her practical daughter Sew (Sarinrat Thomas), her responsible elder son Kiang (Sanya “Duu” Kunakorn), and her wayward younger son Soei (Pongsatorn “Phuak” Jongwilas)—clash over how to handle the situation. Should they tell her the full truth? And what can they do to ease her remaining days?
Amid this family turmoil, Sew’s son, M (Assaratanakul), unexpectedly steps forward to care for Grandma. M, a directionless young man still living at home, doesn’t act out of a sense of duty or gratitude to the woman who helped raise him. Instead, his motives are far less noble—he hopes she might leave him her house. Despite this self-serving reason, M and his sharp-tongued grandmother gradually form an unlikely bond. Their dynamic evolves as M joins her in selling congee in the early mornings, accompanies her to hospital appointments for chemotherapy, and even takes her on a train journey to reconnect with estranged relatives.
Around the 70-minute mark, Grandma, known for her bluntness, begrudgingly acknowledges their growing connection. “It’s good to have you around,” she admits. “It’s fun.” What starts as an opportunistic arrangement transforms into a heartfelt relationship, underscoring themes of family, reconciliation, and the unexpected ways people can find common ground.
As M continues his quietly dutiful role within the family, he witnesses how his sacrifices ease the burden on his overworked single mother, Sew. In stark contrast, his siblings Kiang and Soei offer little support or care despite all their mother has done for them. This disparity underscores a broader societal critique woven into the screenplay by Boonnitipat and co-writer Thodsapon Thiptinnakorn: the persistent inequities faced by women in patriarchal Thai society. A poignant example of this comes from Grandma’s backstory, where her older brother refuses to provide financial assistance despite inheriting all the family’s wealth. This is especially galling given that Grandma was the primary caregiver for their parents. Sew sums up the systemic unfairness with bitter clarity when she laments, “Sons inherit the assets, and daughters inherit cancer.”
When Grandma’s health declines, instead of uniting, the family fractures into petty squabbles over the inheritance. Yet, the screenwriters inject moments of surprise with a few well-timed twists before the family matriarch is finally laid to rest. The film also provides a cultural showcase, with Assaratanakul, who shares Thai-Chinese heritage with Thiptinnakorn, delivering a standout moment as he performs a song in Cantonese, showcasing his vocal talents.
According to the press kit, Seamkhum, who landed the title role after being selected from over 100 candidates (despite prior experience limited to commercials), shines in her performance. Her portrayal of Grandma is feisty and spirited, steering clear of overt sentimentality and grounding the film with emotional depth.
One subplot, however, feels out of sync with the film’s narrative arc. It involves M’s attractive paternal cousin, Mui, played by model and actress Tontawan “Tui” Tantivejakul. As a skilled and compassionate nurse who embodies the ideal granddaughter, Mui’s storyline is compelling but insufficiently integrated into the main narrative. A tighter connection to the central themes could have enhanced the film’s cohesion and trimmed its somewhat overlong runtime.
Visually, the film opts not to highlight Bangkok’s bustling metropolis. Instead, its vibrant technical elements capture the charm of old neighbourhoods and traditional ways of life—scenes imbued with nostalgia for a generation that will soon fade with Grandma’s passing. These moments serve as a bittersweet tribute to the cultural heritage and personal histories the family must grapple with as they move forward.
Overall: 8/10
Movie Reviewer
