Lulu Wang and Nicole Kidman’s ‘Expats’ Is a Culturally Rich—And Captivating—Exploration of Grief and Identity

While filming the show may have been a once-in-a-lifetime experience, it came with a weight of responsibility, too. Over the past decades, Hong Kong has consistently made headlines as the influence of the Chinese Communist Party has slowly encroached on local government, compromising the democratic freedoms it previously enjoyed after becoming a semi-autonomous region of China in 1997. For Wang, it would have been remiss not to explore these political tensions. “It was very natural, and it was one of the first things that the other writers and I talked about,” she says. The show is very purposefully set in 2014, at the height of the Umbrella Movement—and what begins as something glimpsed in news channels scrolling on TVs in the background slowly moves to the forefront, as a pair of characters within Mercy’s orbit find themselves drawn into the protests, with alarming consequences.

“I think 2014 was a moment where the city was on the precipice of something transformational,” Wang continues. “There was a lot of hope, and I think many people still hold onto a lot of hope. The show is really about resilience and strength, and while 2014 wasn’t the only time Hong Kongers have shown that, it was a particular year where I think there was a tremendous amount of it.” For Wang, it was important to remain open to the feedback of her largely local crew throughout the filming process to ensure she was painting an accurate picture of the city and its inhabitants. “I think what was really important for me was to say to them, ‘Don’t treat this like a hierarchy, where you feel like you can’t tell me that I’m wrong.’ It’s actually really helpful to me if you tell me that I’m wrong, or I’m portraying something in a way that could be better or more authentic.”

For all its attention to detail, though, what Expats leaves you with after watching is its broader emotional strokes: the tenacity and complexity of the three women at its core, brought to life by a trio of extraordinary performances, and the reminder that in life, there’s no such thing as an easy, orderly ending. “I think that I want it to leave people with a sense of grace, and a sense of hope,” says Wang, after a pause. “And also humility, in that we don’t really know people in the way we might assume we know them. Hopefully, the show is like an onion that we slowly pull back: we set it up so that you don’t like one character, but then you peel off a layer, and you start to have more compassion for them. I didn’t want it to be tidy or neat.”