Monday, August 23, 2010

What makes a film "Asian"?

A few weeks ago, the Minnesota Film Arts invited me to advise the group on their plans to launch the first ever Minneapolis-St. Paul Asian International Film Festival in November. Or was it the Minneapolis-St. Paul Asian American Film Festival? I’m still confused.

MFA received a grant to develop a festival that would serve underserved communities. But “underserved communities” is a hazy definition, as is what constitutes the Asian (American) community. Some people might think I’m splitting hairs or even indulging in excessive political correctness. But to understand the difference is to understand the dilemma that has long flummoxed people of Asian descent in the United States.

I suspect organizers originally planned on devoting the festival to films created in China, Japan, South Korea, and Vietnam. There’s nothing wrong with that--Asia produces quality films as any other continent.

However, I’m not sure these films reflect the grant’s original purpose of serving underserved communities. The films might be high quality, but as a second generation American of Chinese descent, I don’t feel any special emotional affinity for films produced in China. I like a good flick like anyone else, but so do white, black, and Hispanic people.

Of course, films from Asia might resonate with more recent immigrant communities, like the Hmong or Laotians. I suspect, though, an entirely Asian film festival will attract people who normally enjoy foreign films with subtitles--mainly white people.

But what’s really missing in this country are films that reflect the Asian American experience-- the model minority stereotypes, the desexualization of Asian American men and the hypersexualization of Asian American women, the perpetual perception that people of Asian descent are foreigners even though many, like myself, have lived their entire lives in the United States and consider themselves primarily Americans.

I couldn’t think of any less served underserved community.

Two immediate films come to mind and they couldn’t be more different. In 2003, Better Luck Tomorrow, directed by Justin Lin and produced by MTV Films, nearly won the Grand Jury Prize at the famed Sundance Film Festival. The film centers around a group of high achieving Asian American high school students, who, perhaps bored with their high GPAs, AP classes, and Ivy League college applications, embark on a sociopathic crime spree that ultimately results in murder.

What’s striking about this film is that main characters both embody and defy the model minority stereotypes. No, not just defy, they literally and figuratively stab, beat, and shoot those stereotypes into smithereens. Pretty dark stuff.

I recall reading a story about the film’s screening when an audience member criticized Lin for not portraying Asian Americans in a more “positive” light. To which famed Chicago Sun Times movie critic Roger Ebert retorted something like: “I doubt you would have suggested the same thing to Francis Ford Coppola for his portrayal Italian Americans in The Godfather.”

Double standards are a real bitch.

The next film true to the Asian American experience is (don’t laugh…or then again, please do) is the stoner comedy Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle. No, I’m not saying Asian Americans particularly like weed and mini burgers (although I’m sure many do). But beyond the silly premise and the rock out cameo by Neil Patrick Harris, Harold and Kumar, like the kids from Better Luck Tomorrow, try to overcome the stereotypes that have made them an ideal target for every snarky remark about Asian Americans.

Kumar, an Indian American, does his best to defy his dad who desperately wants his son to become (you guessed it) a doctor. Kumar spends most of his time thinking of creative ways to sabotage his med school interviews. With his parted hair and always available lap top, Harold, a Korean American, is a dutiful, meek cubicle drone who does the work of his lazy, white colleagues. Oh sure, Harold is pissed off--he just can’t summon the courage to do anything about it. He’s similarly powerless in his affection for the hot girl who lives in his apartment building, for Harold possesses the sexual prowess of an pecan nut.

Unlike the kids in Better Luck Tomorrow, Harold and Kumar don’t murder anyone. But they do manage to ride a cheetah, steal a truck, hang glide off a cliff, win the girl, and yes, go to White Castle.

Now that’s what I call a happy ending!

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