The movie will make you laugh, cry, and look back with a smile on all those wonderful memories you shared with your grandparents.
I am a softie when it comes to certain things. My heart goes all mushy for animals (they don’t have to be baby animals; I love animals, period), cute stuff, and old people. I’ve always held a soft spot for the elderly, maybe because for most of my childhood through my early teen years, I was raised by my maternal grandmother. For many, many years she was my favorite person, my ally, my constant.
That’s why when the Thai film How to Make Millions Before Grandma Dies trended on social media, I knew I must watch it. I missed it in cinemas so I had to patiently wait for it to stream on Netflix, which it finally did two weeks ago. (The title’s a mouthful so let’s call it by its initials HMMBGD moving forward.)
HMMBGD stars Putthipong Assaratanakul (aka Billkin) as M the grandson, Tu Tontawan of Thai Meteor Garden fame as his cousin Mui, and Usa Semkhum as the titular grandma. It has a pretty straightforward premise with the title as a giveaway: grandma gets sick, then grandma dies.
Coming into the film, I knew it was going to be a sobfest. It sure is, but it also draws much of its charm from its humor. M taking care of his grandma didn’t entirely stem from filial piety, and this is where the chuckles come in. But as our grandma-grandchild tandem grows closer, while death becomes even more imminent, M finds himself becoming a better, more selfless person. This is where the tissue box comes in.
Without revealing too much because those little surprises add to the film’s appeal, what made the film work more than the plot (at least for me) was the acting. I was floored when I learned that this was the 78-year-old Semkhum’s very first acting role! In Gen Z lingo, grandmother grandmothered! Both she and Billkin played their roles so well, they might as well be real life mag-lola.
Semkhum’s Meng Ju strikes the perfect balance between grumpy and sweet like my own grandma, and probably like yours, too! Oh, she’s a hoarder, as well, tucking away all those trinkets and abubot like they’re real treasures. Billkin’s M, meanwhile, is your typical Gen Z slacker whose life revolves around gaming, but he eases into his role so earnestly that he didn’t come across as annoying, even when his intentions weren’t initially altruistic.
Their grandma-grandson dynamics is so believable and the bickering so natural, I could watch them all day. When it comes to family, we know it’s not always roses and unicorns, especially when you’re the primary caregiver of an elderly loved one. There will be frustrating moments, especially when lolo or lola is feeling especially irritable or makulit. But the gentle and sweet moments always outweigh the exasperating ones, for sure.
I think the film resonated deeply among Asians, specifically Southeast Asians and the Chinese, because it touches on one of the commonalities our disparate cultures have: the concept of filial piety.
The practice of filial piety is often associated with East Asian societies, especially because of the strong historical influence of Confucianism (most evident in the case of China and Japan), “which articulated the doctrine of filial obligation very explicitly as the centerpiece of the moral order of society,” as per an article by Akiko Hashimoto and Charlotte Ikels, published by Cambridge University Press. This concept, however, is just as embedded in Southeast Asian societies like ours.
For better or worse—particularly with many toxic families out there—filial piety today is not merely a historical vestige of the “traditional” family, but an ongoing practice of belonging, security, and surveillance, the article continues. Children, for instance, are expected to provide care to elders, which here in the Philippines can be associated with “utang na loob.” A highly disputed topic, utang na loob can be a beautiful thing when done out of free will, but can be fraught with resentment when forced or manipulated into doing.
We’re here for the former; the latter, we can save for another day’s essay. As mentioned earlier, my maternal grandmother, my dear Nanay, raised me as much as my parents did. And when it was time to have someone take care of her as she descended quite quickly into dementia, I happily took on the role for seven years until her death in 2013. It was a sad but also a beautiful time, those seven years, and HMMBGD reminded me of this—of her.
This is also why HMMBGD struck a chord in millions of people who have watched it. Sure, many of us have the misfortune of being born into less than ideal families. But for those of us who are fortunate enough to have experienced loving familial bonds, taking care of the ones who came before us, in my case my Nanay and my Mama, is one way to give back to those who gave so much of themselves to us.
Directed by Pat Boonnitipat, the film earned THB1billion (approximately $27 million) and achieved 10 million admissions, according to Variety. In Indonesia, it saw 3.5 million admissions and became the highest grossing (non-local) Asian film in the country’s box office history. It stands as the highest-grossing Thai film in Myanmar, Singapore, Malaysia, Vietnam, and the Philippines. In China, where filial piety permeates everyone’s lives, HMMBGD took the box office by storm, earning some THB100 million in its first 24 hours of screening, per The Nation.
How to Make Millions Before Grandma Dies is not groundbreaking nor is it mind-blowing, but it touches on a familiar aspect of many people’s lives in a way that feels earnest and relatable. That’s why I loved it and many million others as well. If you are close to your lolo and lola, you will love this movie, too, and will make you want to hug them a little tighter and a little more often if you’re lucky to still have them around.
How to Make Millions Before Grandma Dies is now streaming on Netflix.