Christopher Makoto Yogi’s second feature is a lush and meditative ghost story, sometimes undermined by its languid pace. A terminally ill man (Steve Iwamoto) spends his last days ruminating on his early marriage, failings as a father, and, of course, what must spiritually follow.

The performances are especially poetic, particularly from the dismally under-used Constance Wu as the spectre of his dead wife. But ultimately the film ends up as emotionally remote as its dying patriarch, despite raising rich and captivating questions about heritage and death.

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