Parida Tantiwasadakran’s “Young People, Old People and Nothing In Between” centers on the friendship between a 7-year-old named Juice (Deedee Piamwiriyaku) with ADHD and her friend, an elderly woman named Grandma Lovely (Suwinya Kungsadan), who is slowly descending into dementia. With such a wide age gap between them and a limited understanding of everything that surrounds them, Juice becomes Grandma Lovely’s connection to the outside world. She draws maps of the neighborhood for Grandma to use when going for a walk (she refuses to learn how to use a GPS) and makes videos of their conversations together. When Grandma suddenly refers to Juice as “my sister,” Juice cannot comprehend this scale of memory loss.
Juice is seven years old, of course, but many who have dealt with a family member with dementia will recognize the stages of denial and adaptation that Juice goes through. Pictures from Grandma’s past, pocket mirrors, and mental exercises don’t help. Eventually, as Juice learns, you just have to care for them, and if she gets confused, constant correcting isn’t always the answer. The title “Young People, Old People and Nothing In Between” takes on multiple meanings, as the communication gap widens, despite Juice’s best efforts to steer Grandma in the right direction.
Tantiwasadakran sets the viewer up for the loss to come, then uses an extended video interview between the two (very homemade and shaky) that goes on for a long time until we’ve almost forgotten about the initial set-up. Tantiwasadakran also lets their characters be who they are when they’re apart. Grandma has her social circle with whom she plays cards and Juice competes in music competitions where she baffles the judges and gets a participation medal. The scenes between the two have lots of charm, but it also becomes clear what brings these two together. A kid like this always loves to feel entrusted with responsibility and can thrive in it; the elderly in this situation are grateful not to have a middle-aged grown-up around to treat them as infants (even if maybe that’s what’s necessary at the time).
Tantiwasadakran clearly has a personal stake in this, becoming all the more moving at the end when we learn about the film’s origins. It’s not a movie with a sole aim to underline the horrors of dementia, but to provide a sense of hope for anyone going through the same thing. If that seems like an odd word for something that has yet to have a cure, hope comes in other forms for someone losing a loved one to the disease. “Young People, Old People and Nothing In Between” is a film that listens instead of talks. For some people in this difficult situation, that’s the better thing to have.
Q&A with director Parida Tantiwasadakran:
How did this come about?
The film is based on someone who raised me as a child but could no longer recognize me. After college, I worked in Thailand for three years; in that time, I got to see her twice. I heard that she had developed some form of Alzheimer’s, but I was so sure she would remember me. It was impossible to me that she would not. But at the restaurant, as I sat across from her, I was given another story. She was her normal smiley and laughing self but would mix me up with my mother constantly. She’d talk about rescuing me from the river and just like Juice, I said “No Grandma it’s me, don’t you remember?” She’d laugh and say of course how could she not, then go back to calling me by my mom’s name and referencing timelines that I was not a part of. I tried to smile and converse with her, to keep it a pleasant night, but I was stunned, crushed. I sat there and stared at her, realizing that no amount of money in the world could bring her memory back to me.
What pained me most is that I was not certain I was able to get her to understand what a positive influence she was in my life. I was not sure if she knew how much of a good person she was if she was not able to recall all the tender and caring moments I shared with her. Even so, as her memory waned, she kept pictures of me and my sister in her wallet, so I knew her memory wasn’t completely lost. That was the last time I saw her. She died a few years later during the pandemic (for causes unrelated to COVID) so I could only attend her funeral virtually. It crushed me all over again. However, I wanted the film to celebrate her joy and the love that she gave me, which is why the story is told in such an exuberant and vivacious way.
How did you go about casting your leads?
We found them on Facebook. My producer had put out an open call in a group. The audition process was virtual. We couldn’t have in-person auditions because COVID was still floating around. Normally I would have adamantly resisted virtual auditions, but we had no choice. However, when we ran the audition, the choice was so obvious for both roles.
Deedee had this playful authenticity to her that was quite hard to find when casting among this age group. Many of the young actresses are taught to conform to stereotypes- to be “girly”, “cute” and demure to receive roles. But Deedee was rebellious and unafraid to be herself. I asked her what she liked about the character and she said that Juice didn’t like washing her hair and neither did she, and that Juice loved rock music and so did she. For the audition, I assigned the scene where Juice goes downstairs to breakfast, and Grandma Lovely fully forgets her for the first time and begins calling her her sister. That is the most difficult scene in the film for the actress playing Juice, and Deedee had such great intuition about it. It blew me away.
There was a specific note I planned to give to each actress during every audition, and that was to have her bring her hands to her chest when she says “It’s me, Juice! Can you still remember me?” But Deedee already did that herself in the first read. Her body language was so expressive and she was so responsive to notes. When it was over, I closed the laptop screen and turned to my friend. We both looked at each other, shook our heads in disbelief at our luck, and without saying a word, knew we had found Juice.
It was a similar situation with Aunty Kungsadan. For auditions, I had assigned the scene where Grandma Lovely shakes her boobs when she and Juice are sunbathing outside and Juice tells her that she wants big boobs. It was the hardest scene for the actress who would play Grandma Lovely because it took a great deal of vulnerability, a massive sense of humor, and the gall to throw caution to the wind. These aren’t easy traits to find among people in general, and especially not among elderly people. However, Aunty Kungsadan ran the scene perfectly and shook her boobs with absolutely no hesitation. She seemed to revel in it actually, which just won me over all the more. When I followed up and asked her if it made her shy or not, she responded “Why would it make me shy? They’re just boobs” and then proceeded to shake them once more.
How did you let Piamwiriyaku and Kungsadan form their relationship off-screen?
We were able to have two rehearsals before shooting with everyone masked. I wanted them to meet each other before filming so that they weren’t strangers on set. There was a moment when Deedee took Aunty Kungsadan’s hand and walked her to her car after rehearsal. I thought that was sweet.
Was it a challenge for you as a director to have two leads, who share many scenes, with such a wide age gap?
Not at all. They were such naturals with one another, and both truly put in their best work. I had a feeling that they cared deeply about doing a good job, and understood the importance of teamwork on set. I don’t remember directing very much because it felt like a breeze the majority of the time. I’d set them up, call “action,” and watch them go, then make adjustments. When I had designed the characters and cast the actresses, I was looking for a child who was slightly more perceptive and mature, and a grandma who was child-like and youthful. I think these two traits minimized that age gap, and brought them closer.
What has the response been like from people in similar situations (regardless of age)?
The response has been astounding. When the film was on the festival circuit last year, several people would come up to me and tell me how it reminded them of their grandmother or a similar situation they had been in with their loved ones. A fellow filmmaker I met said that he was never able to completely process what had happened to his late grandfather towards the end of his life, but that the film offered him some comfort and answers. It wasn’t one specific place either. It happened almost everywhere I went: Berlin, Busan, Park City, Vancouver, San Diego…Even when the film was playing at a children’s festival, the chaperones, teachers, and parents would come up and speak to me afterward. At KUKI Berlin, I played four different shows in an auditorium full of classes from elementary schools around the area. One of the festival hosts told me that many kids in this generation were in a similar situation as Juice, so it was beneficial for them to see themselves reflected in the film even if they may not have been able to fully grasp the situation.
What’s next for you?
I’m currently writing what I hope will be my first feature. It’s a who-dun-it comedy mystery called “A Hole in The Sky” based on a true story that happened at my high school. The story follows a scandal in which AP tests are stolen multiple times and the only clue left is a hole ceiling. Everyone’s scores are under the threat of cancellation until the culprit is caught. I could akin the idea to a “teenage ‘Knives Out.’” I would love to go into production next year, but it seems like a distant dream since I have no idea how to go about it. I suppose I’m also trying to learn how to finance the film in tandem with writing it.
Watch it here.
