What ‘How To Make Millions Before Grandma Dies’ taught me about intergenerational relationships

A breakout success all over Asia, Pat Boonnitipat’s How to Make Millions Before Grandma Dies has struck a chord in many hearts. This poignant tale of love, family, and growth follows the journey of M, a young video game streamer, as he takes on the role of caretaker for his terminally ill, yet fiercely independent grandmother. 

Spoilers ahead!

The film's main focus is M’s growth as he progressively cares more about his Ahma, Mengju, as he spends more time with her. He initially volunteers to be his Ahma’s caretaker in hopes of inheriting her estate after her passing. In fact, he went as far as to list her house for sale the moment he moved in. Yet, as he spent more time with his Ahma, he started to care for her not out of greed or obligation, but out of genuine love. By the end of the film, he uses the money she left behind for him to fulfil her final wish - a large burial plot that would bring the family together.

Many see the film as a heartfelt reminder to spend more time with our older family members, and while that is a meaningful and valuable takeaway,  I found myself reflecting on a different question: why was M so distant from Mengju to begin with? Was it selfishness? Indifference? I don’t think it’s that simple.

M and Mengju’s struggle to connect with each other becomes evident early in the film, when their family is paying respects to their ancestors at the Qingming festival. M finds it difficult to understand the importance of the festival or why Mengju insists on doing things in a certain way. Mengju, in turn, gets frustrated with M’s unwillingness to follow traditions and struggles to understand his carelessness about the festival. This difficulty M and Mengju face in connecting shows a deeper issue many of us can relate to: generational differences that make understanding one another’s perspectives difficult. 

These differences are visible in the little things: M can’t wake up early enough to sell congee with Mengju, and she disapproves of his habit of microwaving water to make tea. M and Mengju’s contrasting values and communication styles make it difficult for them to connect and understand one another. Mengju values tradition, while M struggles to see its significance. Mengju adopts a sarcastic tone, showing her affection through her actions and not her words. M on the other hand, finds it difficult to decode her words. The difficulty in understanding one another’s perspective is also evident in M’s relationship with his mother, Sew. As a video game streamer, M faces a lack of understanding and support for his career choices. While his mother’s concerns about his financial stability are reasonable, they add to M’s sense of alienation. 

While these differences may seem small, they can make communicating and building relationships complex. These dynamics illustrate something important to acknowledge about relationships: they are rarely black-and-white. It’s easy to judge M or Mengju, but while everyone has their flaws, much of the struggle to connect comes from contrasting values and personalities. When it comes to interpersonal relationships, there are very rarely “good guys” and “bad guys”. M isn’t a perfect grandson, but his distance from Mengju is in some ways understandable.

But what the film also shows us is that it is possible to grow and change. As M gets to know his Ahma, his perspective towards her shifts. He grows closer and more caring towards her, and starts to look after her because he cares about her, not simply because he wants her inheritance. He starts to express genuine love for her, even when she isn’t around to see it. These shifts are evident in small but meaningful ways - like when M declines money from his uncle to take care of Mengju, even though money was the initial reason he offered to care for her. Another touching moment was when M prayed for his Ahma to win the lottery, a silent gesture that shows his care for her. Over time, Mengju, too, changes. Though she is not someone that overtly expresses her emotions, she shows her growing affection for M in her own way. At the start of the film, we see Ahma criticising M and getting frustrated because she found it difficult to understand him. However, as the film progresses, she offers him encouragement and apologises for past criticisms despite their differences. Towards the end of the film, she even tells him he did an impressive job taking care of her - a significant gesture from someone who never verbally expressed gratitude at any other point. While subtle, these meaningful shifts bring them closer together.

While this isn’t possible in every family or situation, in this case, both the younger and older family members put in the effort to grow closer to one another. M’s cousin, Mui, who cared for her aging grandfather for years, said that what the elderly craved was time with their families. Mui’s words don’t just apply to caring for the elderly, they apply to building relationships as a whole. Building stronger, closer, intergenerational relationships takes time. It takes time to get to know one another. It takes time to understand one another’s needs. It takes time to unlearn the patterns we grew up with. This is especially true with intergenerational relationships, where generational differences might mean it takes a little more time and graciousness to understand one another. Relationships have no end goal. Rather, they are always changing and growing just as we are. It’s not about achieving the perfect relationship, but about continuously nurturing it.

Previous
Previous

Under the Surface: Mental Health and Struggles among LGBTQ+ Communities in India and Singapore

Next
Next

Let’s set mental health intentions for 2025