Set against the backdrop of Singapore’s moody weather period, Anthony Chen’s Wet Season unpacks the melodrama of a language teacher at an emotional crossroads. Ling (Yeo Yann Yann) has a lot on her plate: she’s trying (and failing) to go through IVF treatment, she’s taking care of her sick father-in-law, there’s political unrest in her native Malaysia, and she’s trying to get her Mandarin students on the right track as final exams creep around the corner. In the midst of her various crises, Ling finds solace in one of her students, who has an equally sad and confusing home life. Wet Season is a quiet and gorgeous ticking time bomb, but when the clock hits zero, there’s not enough time allowed for anyone to truly reflect. Wei Lun (Koh Jia Ler) feels hollow compared to Ling’s lush and textured turmoil, but that could also be the result of them being at drastically different stages of life. While Wet Season often revels in the predictability of the student-teacher relationship trope, there’s a profound earnestness just under the surface.