Grafted
Directed by Sasha Rainbow
Written by Hweiling Ow, Mia Maramara, Lee Murray, and Sasha Rainbow
Starring Joyena Sun, Jess Hong, Eden Hart, Jared Turner, Sepi To’a, and Xiao Hu
Runtime: 1 hour and 36 minutes
Streaming on Shudder January 24

by Vannah Taylor, Staff Writer

Think of every piece of skin you’ve tugged, hair you’ve plucked, creams or chemicals you’ve spread. Try to remember each of the countless metamorphoses your body has undergone in the pursuit of acceptance. No matter how far we have pushed for inclusivity, evolved past previous standards of beauty, or attempted to place a focus on “inner beauty,” the reality will always be that many of us have (or will) at some point be made to feel lesser than on the basis of our appearance. Beauty is a bloody endeavor in the New Zealand coming-of-age horror story Grafted, because there is no better way to explore the extent someone will go to feel comfortable in their own skin than through the lens of body-horror.

In her first narrative feature, director Sasha Rainbow brings to life a violently entertaining story originally crafted by Hweiling Ow, who anchored the script in her own experiences as an Asian immigrant in New Zealand. The story’s final form was developed through collaboration between writers Mia Maramara, Lee Murray, and Rainbow, resulting in an authentic tale of alienation that is sure to resonate with anyone who has existed in a realm of otherness. Grafted follows Wei (Joyena Sun), a young Chinese woman who moves in with her Aunty Ling (Xiao Hu) and cousin Angela (Jess Hong) after accepting a scholarship from a university in New Zealand. With access to a biochemistry lab, Wei picks up where her late father left off in his pursuit of a revolutionary skin grafting technique that could rid him and his beloved daughter’s faces of their birthmarks–a grisly experiment that took his life in the tragic opening scene of the film. Unfortunately, her ambition takes a violent turn, and the journey towards an improved outer self results in the loss of her inner self.

When Wei first arrives in New Zealand, she is bombarded with her aunt’s remarks about fancy concealers and billboards advertising beauty products that will bring out the “real you.” With her birthmark always strategically covered by her hair and a scarf, the weight of her insecurities causes her to fold in on herself. Her first experience with culture shock ironically comes from within her own family after being introduced to her English-speaking, headstrong, and confident cousin, Angela. Despite being a daughter of a Chinese immigrant herself, Angela is far from a comforting presence for Wei. Angela and her girl group take every opportunity to make their disgust evident, whether it is towards Wei’s offerings at the altar made to honor her father, the way she slurps her noodles, or the chicken feet she orders at a local Chinese restaurant.

The relationship between Wei and her cousin holds a particular weight as foils for one another. Wei is new to this country, feeling alone and far from home, while Angela was born in the diaspora.

Unable to communicate in her mother’s native tongue and ashamed to admit that chicken feet are her favorite food, Angela feels a disconnect from her culture that causes a pain within her that she is unable to admit. The lack of any real bond to either of her parents is triggered by Wei’s ancestor worship because she perhaps is jealous that Wei is able to connect with her deceased father while Angela begs for the attention of her own, who is alive and well. Because of this, tensions continue to rise, culminating into a fight between Wei and Angela that leaves Angela fatally injured. Having seemingly cracked the code on her father’s skin graft research, the only thing Wei thinks to do is grab a scalpel and slip into her cousin's skin.

Grafted is a Mean Girls (dir. Mark Waters, 2004) meets Frankenstein body-swap romp. Modern stories that take inspiration from Mary Shelley’s timeless monster have continuously used the tale of this sympathetic monster as a vehicle for tales of the woes of weird girls. May (dir. Lucky McKee, 2002) is a film that says, “if you don’t have a friend, make one;” Lisa Frankenstein (dir. Zelda Williams, 2024) says, “if you can’t find a boyfriend, make one;” and now Grafted says “if you don’t have a beautiful face, make one.” The most endearing element of Grafted, despite its gooey and gory exterior, is that much of it feels not as hyperbolic as one might expect from the genre it plays within–chemicals, dyes, surgeries, and injections are all considered quite reasonable measures taken to emulate those who are deemed beautiful by modern society, meaning the audience can easily see life through Wei’s eyes. There are all these ways we continuously morph ourselves into new people, something that is brilliantly done by actresses Sun, Hong, and Eden Hart, who all portray Wei at some point in the story. As Wei takes on the persona of each girl, trying to hide the trail of bodies left by her quest for beauty, it's amazing to see each actress step into the character, all using the body language established by the original Wei and the clever costume design by Kyle Callanan. Across the board, the cast taps into the various pressures felt by young women and teases out the intersections of gender, race, privilege, and the experiences of those existing in a diaspora.

After only working on documentary films and music videos, Rainbow has taken her affinity for telling “hyperreal” stories a step further with Grafted. Although the pace slows to an almost dreamlike crawl that might leave the typical body-horror fan wishing for more, Grafted shows a clear understanding for how to find the beauty in all of the ugliness, and the humor hiding in our darkest moments.

Support MovieJawn Staff

〰️

Support MovieJawn Staff 〰️

Support Vannah Taylor

With the death of so much print media and meaningful journalism, it is important now more than ever to support the writers and outlets you love.
If you enjoyed this article, show your support by donating to our writer. All proceeds go directly to the writer. Recommended donation is $5.