“Dear You” Closes New York Asian Film Festival, Leaving an Entire Theater in Tears

By Richard Ren | LAPost

NEW YORK, July 26, 2026 — On the final night of the 25th New York Asian Film Festival (NYAFF), it was not a Hollywood blockbuster or a celebrity-studded gala that lingered in audiences’ memories, but a deeply personal story from China’s Chaoshan region.

On Saturday evening, Dear You served as the Closing Night Film of the festival, making its North American festival premiere at New York’s SVA Theatre. Director Lan Hongchun, executive producer Zheng Xuanxuan, and lead actress Li Sitong traveled from China to attend the screening, introducing the film before the lights dimmed and participating in an extended post-screening Q&A with audiences.

Demand exceeded expectations. Tickets for the screening sold out almost immediately after the closing film was announced. Festival organizers responded by opening an additional screening room, which also sold out within hours. Before the screening began, long lines stretched outside the theater as moviegoers waited to enter—a sight that even seasoned New York festival attendees described as unusual.

For a Chinese-language film with little prior international exposure, being selected as the closing film of NYAFF’s 25th anniversary edition was already a significant honor. As the house lights faded and the film began, that anticipation gradually transformed into something quieter and more profound.

When Lan Hongchun stepped onto the stage before the screening and introduced himself simply as “the director of Dear You,” he was greeted with warm applause. It was his first visit to the United States—and his first time in New York—having arrived from Guangdong only two days earlier after a 15-hour journey.

Instead of beginning with the film itself, Lan spoke first about home.

“My hometown is Chaoshan in Guangdong Province, China,” he told the audience. “For overseas Chinese viewers, I hope this film is like a warm dish brought from home—something that lets you rediscover familiar flavors and memories. For American audiences, I hope it offers a different taste, filled with sincerity and warmth.”

He then drew an unexpected comparison between filmmaking and Chaoshan cuisine.

“The essence of Chaoshan food is preserving the original flavor of every ingredient,” he said. “Dear You follows the same philosophy. We wanted to preserve the story in its purest and simplest form. It may not rely on elaborate techniques, but like a humble hometown dish, we hope it reveals deeper layers of emotion the longer you experience it.”

The remarks were understated rather than sentimental, setting the tone for what followed.

Lead actress Li Sitong, who portrays Li Nanzhi in the film, described the project as “an experience of healing.”

“The first time I read the script, what struck me most was its warmth,” she said. “Throughout the filming process, I felt that warmth myself. I hope it can be shared not only with Chinese audiences in New York, but with people from every culture. I believe emotions like these can travel beyond language and reach everyone’s heart.”

Then, smiling at the crowd, she added one final piece of advice:

“Did everyone remember to bring tissues?”

By the end of the evening, many clearly wished they had.

As the story unfolded—with its themes of family, separation, migration, and the historic qiaopi letters exchanged between overseas Chinese and their relatives back home—the atmosphere inside the theater changed. Quiet sobs spread through the audience. Handkerchiefs and tissues appeared throughout the auditorium as viewers wiped away tears.

One Chinese international student told LAPost after the screening, “Watching this film made me miss home more than ever.”

The emotional response was not limited to Chinese audiences. During the post-screening discussion, several American moviegoers said that although they had known little about Chaoshan culture before the film, they connected immediately with its universal themes of family, memory, and longing.

As the festival’s closing film, Dear You accomplished something increasingly rare: it did not overwhelm audiences with spectacle, but invited an entire theater into a shared silence.

Chinese American film critic Richard Ren later wrote on social media, “This may have been the best possible American debut for Dear You.”

He noted that the 25th edition of NYAFF featured an exceptionally strong lineup, including appearances by acclaimed filmmakers and actors such as Joan Chen, Gianna Jun, Daniel Wu, and Andrew Lau. With Gianna Jun’s COLONY opening the festival and attracting significant media attention, serving as the closing film carried equal symbolic weight.

“For a Chinese-language film making its first official appearance in the United States,” Ren wrote, “the most important thing is not necessarily the biggest stage, but the right stage. Over the past 25 years, the New York Asian Film Festival has earned the respect of the film industry, critics, and passionate cinephiles. It is exactly the kind of place where a film deserves to be seen by people who truly love cinema.”

Audience enthusiasm reflected that sentiment. Tickets disappeared within hours of the festival’s announcement, prompting organizers to add another screening that also quickly reached capacity.

Commercial success is often measured in box office receipts. Film festivals, however, have a different metric.

When the credits rolled on Dear You, few audience members hurried toward the exits. Instead, they remained in their seats, applauding the filmmakers before engaging them in a lengthy conversation about the film’s inspiration, the history of qiaopi letters, family memories, and the creative process behind the story.

For one evening in New York, Dear You did not introduce itself to North America through blockbuster marketing or commercial fanfare. It arrived instead as a heartfelt letter—to a grandmother, to a hometown, and to generations separated by oceans—and left behind something more enduring than applause: a theater united by tears.

For any Chinese-language film seeking an international audience, it was perhaps the most meaningful beginning it could have hoped for.