Abang Adik, dir. Jin Ong

Jin Ong's debut feature has a remarkable first two acts: hand-held camera-shots and naturalistic lighting prevent the premise–two brothers, having lost their parents and their birth certificates at a young age, have to eke out a hand-to-mouth existence in Kuala Lumpur–from descending into exploitative poverty porn.

It quickly sets its heart (and ours) on the brothers' physical intimacy (something rarely seen in Asian cinema). There is tenderness amidst their fraternal disputes (especially regarding the younger brother's involvement with human trafficking) and mutual teasing. The younger one joshes the older one, on their tiny shared bed, about the latter's burgeoning relationship with a neighbour from Myanmar.

Two scenes stood out. One where both brothers on a motorbike weaving through Kuala Lumpur traffic, bearing a slaughtered bird for delivery, approached the transcendence of Tarkovsky's long drive on Tokyo highways in Solaris. (Kuala Lumpur is its own character here: steaming, crowded, unforgiving neon-lit jungle that our duo must fend with.)

The other scene has both of them on a dim dance floor at their adoptive transgender mother's birthday party, Chinese nightclub torch song reverberating through the walls. It's heartbreaking, swooning, and gorgeous.

Yet, this realist portrayal of Malaysia's urban poor cannot make up for a maudlin, overcooked, exhausting final act. An unnecessarily violent accident (that did not need to happen) hurls the narrative into unearned and emotionally manipulative tragedy. A thread about migrant workers (whom the younger brother was swindling) gets egregiously forgotten, a failure for a film that sets out to depict urban poverty.

Still, the cast more than delivers here: Wu Kang-ren as the older brother gives a heart-breaking existential monologue in sign language whilst his hands are in chains, and Jack Tan (playing the younger brother) swaps out his Tony Leung-esque cheekiness for a Tony Leung-esque desperation.

Fellow arthouse debut Tiger Stripes is rightfully selected Malaysia's submission for the Oscars. In the end, Abang Adik squanders its potential to deliver trenchant social commentary, and settles for cheap heart-wrenching soap opera.