I’m Anne Lee, and this is my testimony about the mental scramble of sharing your name with a movie character film

TThe messages started over a year ago. “I’m blown away by the title,” my cinephile friend Matt texted me, along with a tweet announcing a new musical called Anne Lee, starring Amanda Seyfried and directed by Mona Fastvold, about the leader of the 18th-century Shaker movement. Why would the good news of the film please him so much? Well, because my name is Anne Lee too.

“Yes! Fame at last!” I answered. I have responded in a similar way to all letters since then from other friends eager to tell me that my name was in the lead in a prestigious Hollywood film. I was really entertained and excited; For most of my life, Anne seemed like the biggest name to me. Lee, or Li as it is also written, is one of the most common surnames in the world and is shared by over 100 million people in Asia. I was sure there were many Anne-Lies out there. But when do you get a movie title dedicated to it? Now you’re starting to feel like your name might be special after all.

The title became The Reign of Ann Lee, a musical as energetic and ambitious as its heroine, who struck out on her own from humble beginnings in Manchester, the daughter of a blacksmith, determined to conquer America with nothing more than her Christian faith, an unwavering belief in gender equality, and a small band of loyal followers. Fastvold co-wrote the script with her partner, The Brutalist director Brady Corbett, and there are exciting rumors that Seyfried could make the Best Actress Oscar shortlist.

I’ve Googled my name before to see what other Ann Lees characters there are, and my search turned up crappy results. The other claim to fame that My Name has had in the past is that it featured a 90s singer best known for the Eurodance hits 2 Times and Voices. Now when I Google my name, I get pages and pages about Ann Lee’s will. Obviously, Ann Li will now be seen as the final one.

When I was invited to watch a preview followed by a Q&A with Seyfried and Fastvold, I immediately accepted. At night, I gave my name to the PR representative who was reviewing the guest list. “Wait, what did you say your name again?” he asked. I laughed and told him how happy I was that people would finally learn how to spell my name correctly. You might think it wouldn’t be that hard to mess up with a simple name like Ann Lee, but you’d be wrong. I’ve lost count of the number of times people have spelled my name Anne or called me Anna or thought Ann-Lee was my first name.

My friend Branca likes to remind me of the time we went to a press preview for an exhibition and I gave my name to the person at the reception. “Important to me?” I asked in confusion. Clearly I need to learn how to articulate better. As a film journalist, many people have “jokingly” asked me over the years if I’m Ang Lee, the Taiwanese director who directed Brokeback Mountain, a question I’ve answered with a forced smile and an inward glance. Yes, we are both Asian and have similar names. cheerful. I certainly didn’t mention that when I interviewed him in 2017.

When I finally saw The Covenant of Ann Lee, I was swept away by the animal enthusiasm, the thundering dance sequences, and composer Daniel Blomberg’s rousing songs (Shaker chants turned into real folk music). Seyfried is fierce in her portrayal of “Mother Anne,” a woman so disgusted by sex that she avoids it altogether and makes celibacy a staple of her new religious cult. Instead of having sex, she and her followers indulge in a dance of ecstasy. They beat their chests like drums, sway like branches in the wind, and their faith beats like a heartbeat in their bodies.

Despite some wonky Mancunian accents among the actors, I found Fastvold’s surreal approach to Lee’s story very compelling, though I would have liked to have seen some aspects of her life and religion examined in more depth. However, I was relieved by it for me The movie, as I began to call it, was really good, and my name would not forever be associated with turkeys. For every Inside Llewyn Davis, Erin Brockovich, and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, there’s a John Carter or Gigli not far behind.

During the Q&A session, I couldn’t help but stare at my name plastered on the screen behind the cast and crew in block letters, a name I’d been writing down ever since I could hold a pen. It was hard not to feel delighted to see the same name now so widely celebrated. Even though the movie is about someone else, the name still belongs to me.

I imagine there aren’t many Donnie Darkus, Ferris Buellers, or Forrest Gumbs in the world, but what about the likes of Charlie Wilson, Michael Clayton, or Sarah Marshall? Were they as excited as I was to have their names appear in the film’s title? Or were they excited about it? Does having the name Bridget Jones mean a lifetime of jokes about big underwear, your memoir writing skills, and whether you’re Team Darcy or Team Cleaver?

One person who has shared what it means to share their name with a movie is John Wick, a Wisconsin businessman who died last year. His grandson, screenwriter Derek Kolstad, named the fictional dog-loving killer, played by Keanu Reeves in the John Wick film series, after his grandfather. Wick told Wisconsin Life in 2024 that it was “a lot of fun” to have a franchise named after him, but he never watched any of the films because he was hard of hearing.

Sinners actor Michael B. Jordan recently spoke to Jesse Plemons, in one of Variety’s Actors on Actors videos, about what it was like to grow up with the same name as Michael Jordan, the basketball star. “Your name is important,” he said. “It’s how you present yourself… and how the world responds to you.” “But when there’s someone else, I think it’s created a healthy segment [on my shoulder]. Wanting to be competitive… Wanting your own identity in some way… I wanted to be great at something, and I didn’t know what it would be… I just wanted to be great at it.

Will sharing a name with Lee, “the first American feminist,” as Fastvold described her to The New Yorker, propel me to greater things? Only time will tell. Lee may now be the final Ann Lee, but there is still time for me to forge my own path to glory – I think that is an ambition she would have approved of.