Debut: ‘Single Residence Occupancy’ Finds Hope Within Four Walls
A hauntingly beautiful narrative rooted in realism, Single Residence Occupancy offers a window into the soul of a family living in forced proximity within a single-room apartment. Led by the matriarch Mrs. Zhao (Kathy Wu), the family’s love continually defies their circumstances, even as the harsh reality of being a first-generation immigrant in America is felt in every frame. Omer Ben-Shachar’s direction is precise; each shot is rich with character, aided by intricately detailed mise-en-scène and set design.
Mrs. Zhao lives in a cramped one-room apartment with her youngest son, Benny (Darren Shen-Kao), and her oldest daughter, Mina (Lauren Mei). The space is filled to the brim with personal items, school projects, and family photos. Though far from ideal, the apartment exudes personality, taking on a life of its own, especially given that the entire short takes place within its four walls.
The family is excited about an upcoming relocation as Mrs. Zhao has promised they will move by the end of the year. Their life of ice-cold communal showers and using hairdryers for warmth will be left far behind. The severity of their current situation is fully realized. Early shots of the children feature them huddling under towels, desperately attempting to get warm after being chilled to the bone—all from a shower, something most take for granted.
The family’s bond is undeniable, especially Mrs. Zhao’s devotion to her children. While her care is often misperceived as strictness by Mina, her motivations are driven by love, which is clear from a viewer’s perspective. When Mrs. Zhao receives devastating news that her application for Section 8 housing has been denied, the promises she had been so excited to deliver are instantly shattered, and hope for a fresh start now lies barren on the floor.
As Mrs. Zhao processes the news, Mina is photographing Benny for a school project. Photography is clearly her passion, but it butts heads with her mother’s embarrassment at the state of their home, especially now knowing they are stuck there. In a one-room apartment, there is no space to decompress; emotions must be felt and processed within the same room, colliding, with nowhere to run.
Disappointed, and choosing to protect her children’s feelings, Mrs. Zhao hides the truth. In a reaction stemming from shame and a lack of space to breathe, she asks Mina to stop taking photos. Unaware of the burden her mother is carrying, Mina takes this to heart and becomes frustrated with her mother, as most teens would. The claustrophobia of the apartment would naturally put a strain on most relationships, and this family is no exception.
The film excels at encapsulating the weight of what Mrs. Zhao must endure alone. She is a single mother, a first-generation immigrant, and someone struggling financially in a country where systemic racism and inequalities compound her every hardship. Not to mention, she is not just battling for herself, but must carry her two children through every step—an incomprehensibly large task. Kathy Wu’s performance is brilliant, as she balances stoicism with deep vulnerability. Mrs. Zhao feels completely genuine, a remarkable effort from Wu and director Ben-Shachar, given the short’s limited runtime.
When Mina and her friend Sabrina (Madison Paige) stop by to pick up a camera lens, Sabrina asks to use the bathroom. Mina’s embarrassment is immediate. “Benny made a mess last night. It usually doesn’t look like this,” she says, even though the apartment looks no different than usual. She overcompensates, feeling the need to apologize just for her home. The two eventually settle in until Mrs. Zhao comes home.
Mrs. Zhao’s discomfort is palpable. She politely asks Sabrina to leave, but her anger is apparent. The second the door closes, she asks, “Did you think about how this place looks to others?” The moment encapsulates the shame both mother and daughter carry, especially when comparing their lives to privileged families and their white counterparts, namely Sabrina in this instance.
The argument escalates to the point that Mrs. Zhao finally reveals the truth: their housing application was denied. “There is no new home. Our petition got denied. You happy now? Now you can take as many photos as you want. Show your classmates what a great mom you have.” Mina responds with one of the film’s most devastating lines: “But you never even looked at any of them.”
These words have an impact on Mrs. Zhao, who looks through Mina’s photos that night. They are breathtaking. Her daughter’s talent and passion are undeniable. Waiting until the end of the short to show them was a wise choice, as they frame the apartment in a completely new light— there are photos of the family laughing, Benny touching light-up stars on the ceiling, and a beautiful close-up of Mrs. Zhao. The photos tear down the confines of the room, as their collective love as a family unit knows no limit. Mrs. Zhao sheds a tear; her daughter has completely reimagined their state of life, and it becomes clear that no matter where they are, they have a home within each other.
The apartment grows alongside the family. Initially cold and cramped, it emerges as a character of its own, becoming a home. In the final frame, Mrs. Zhao sits in a long shot that features the apartment in its totality, now feeling warm—a stark contrast from the freezing showers in the beginning. While nowhere near perfect, no family is. What is important is that it is theirs, and that can be felt through every inch of the room. While the immigrant experience in America is often shaped by hardship, Single Residence Occupancy is a reminder that it is just as defined by love, family, and unity.