Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
STARTING SIX GUEST LISTS
Why should I have all the fun? I invited some valued friends and colleagues to submit their own suggestions for the starting six Asian American films you need to see.
Renee Tajima-Peña is one of the finest documentarians out there, having been responsible for everything from Who Killed Vincent Chin? (along with Christine Choi) and My America. She's also training the next generation as a Community Studies professor at UCSC. She wants you to know, "oh, I hate canons but if forced," she suggests these "oldies but goodies."
Renee Tajima-Peña's Starting Six (Plus 2)
1) Dragon Painter (WIlliam Worthington, 1919)
2) Chan is Missing (Wayne Wang, 1982)
3) AKA Don Bonus (Spencer Nakasako, 1995)
4) Better Luck Tomorrow (Justin Lin, 2002)
5) Fall of the I-Hotel (Curtis Choy, 1985)
6) Dupont Guy: The Schiz of Grant Avenue (Curtis Choy, 1976)
+1) History and Memory (Rea Tajiri, 1991)
+2) Whose Going To Pay For These Donuts, Anyway? (Janice Tanaka, 1992)
Brian Hu is the managing editor for the finest Asian/Asian American arts and culture publication I know, Asia Pacific Arts. The web-magazine has extensive coverage on Asian American cinema, including yearly "best of" lists of their favorite flick picks.
Here's what he had to preface with: "A starting six should make no excuses. There should be no qualifications like "good for an Asian American film" or "we should support it because it's by an Asian American." A starting six shouldn't engage the viewer with theory. Rather, it should directly engage the viewer as any film should: via the senses, as spectacle, as sheer bodily pleasure. They should first and foremost move us into wanting to explore more."
Brian Hu's Starting Six
1. History and Memory (Rea Tajiri, 1991)
An Asian American film can look like this. History and Memory is a documentary about the images a Japanese American mother can no longer recall, and the images her daughter has created so a generation will not forget. Rea Tajiri's visuals, culled from Hollywood clips, home video footage, and self-performance, are fragmented and unruly, just as our memories are. History and Memory is one of the highest artistic achievements by an Asian American in any medium. and is available on DVD for the educational market from Women Make Movies. See also: Chan is Missing (1982)
2. The Wedding Banquet (Ang Lee, 1993)
An Asian American film can taste like this. You can practically tell this story of generational conflict through Ang Lee's depiction of food: what people eat for what occasions, where people eat, who eats with whom, who cooks for whom, etc. Of course, there's more to The Wedding Banquet than the cooking, but for Asian Americans, what evokes the affection and anxieties of home better than food? Taste also: Catfish in Black Bean Sauce (1999), Eat a Bowl of Tea (1989)
3. Mississippi Masala (Mira Nair, 1991)
An Asian American film can touch like this. One of my favorite sex scenes in Asian American cinema is between an Indian American woman from Uganda and an African American man from Mississippi. In the film, much is made about the interracial romance ("Is she Mexican?" some ask), but in the scene in question, they are just two shimmering shades of naked brown, locked in passion. Having Denzel Washington helps too. Experience also: Charlotte Sometimes (2002)
4. aka Don Bonus (Spencer Nakasako, 1995) and Refugee (Spencer Nakasako, 2004)
An Asian American film can smell like this. Sure, I'm using smell a little conceptually here, as scent is perhaps the hardest sense for cinema to evoke. But there's certainly an olfactory tactility in Spencer Nakasako's work: a cinema that is genuinely moved by the stenches of everyday life -- the grime of the Tenderloin projects, the sweaty bodies of Cambodian Americans unaccustomed to the heat of their fathers' homeland. Asian American cinema should not -- in fact must not -- simply harvest the gentle potpourri of upper-middle class suburbia. Smell also: the sweat and dank of the tropics and the dumpsters of Santa Ana in Journey from the Fall (2006)
5. Colma: the Musical (Richard Wong, 2006)
An Asian American film can sound like this. In fact, it can sing! For his catchy lyrics and catchier tunes, H.P. Mendoza should be a national treasure. Colma: the Musical isn't the resurrection of a classical American genre, but is its much-needed low-fi awakening. Richard Wong's direction complements Mendoza's explosive charm well, and no scene better breaks down their collaboration than the split-screen, long-take nerd-out, Christmas-light fantasy "Crash the Party." Hear also: Fruit Fly (2009)
6. The Sixth Sense (M. Night Shyamalan, 1999)
I prefer Shyamalan's Unbreakable (2000), but I couldn't resist the appropriateness of the title of his Best Picture-nominated breakout hit. Love him or hate him, Shyamalan is, along with Michael Bay, Hollywood's only pure stylist -- though unlike Bay, Shyamalan consistently applies his mad genius long takes, odd framings, and sound design for the sake of character development and emotional arousal. But the "sixth sense" I'm speaking of here is the ability to appreciate that even films not explicitly about Asian Americans can still be representative "Asian American cinema." It's the ability to see race when nobody else does, but without insisting on it. It's the ability to hear impassioned, though sometimes inadvertent, alternative voices embedded beneath the dominant clatter. In other words, it's the ability to see the living that the mainstream doesn't even know is alive.
Also: anything by Gregg Araki (The Living End), Jon Moritsugu (Terminal USA), Jessica Yu (In the Realms of the Unreal), Ang Lee (The Ice Storm), Wayne Wang (Last Holiday), James Wong (Final Destination), Jay Chandrasekhar (Beerfest), Tarsem Singh (The Fall), Karyn Kusama (Girlfight), and Justin Lin (Fast & Furious)
I got to know Valerie Soe back in the '90s, probably through NAATA and definitely strengthened by having her come, several times, as a guest lecturer to my AA film class at UC Berkeley to talk about experimental AA works. That's not just her field of expertise as a professor at SF State; that's also her mark as a filmmaker too. (Small world coincidences: I found out, years later, that my wife was a research assistant for Valerie's Picturing Oriental Girls short from 1992).
Valerie Soe's Starting Six
First Person Plural, Deann Borshay, 2000
An emotional look at a Korean adoptee’s search for her family and her identity, with some surprising conclusions. One of many excellent Asian American personal documentaries (see also New Year Baby; AKA Don Bonus; Refugee)
The Debut, Gene Cajayon, 2000
A charming little family drama set in the heart of Pilipino-America, this flick celebrates the Pin@y cultural movement of the 1990s, with break-dance battles, kulintang, turntablism, girl groups, tinikling, cha-chas, lumpia, car culture, and basketball--all in one night at a debutante party.
Imelda, Ramona Diaz, 2004
An amazing documentary portrait of Imelda Marcos, featuring a lengthy interview with the main subject herself as she laments the ugliness of the weapon of her would-be assassin, describes her elaborately embroidered wardrobe which blinded several overworked seamstresses, and otherwise fails to understand why the world and the Pilipino people have turned against her.
The Motel, Michael Kang, 2005
An unsentimental, completely unconventional coming-of-age story about a misanthropic Chinese American kid and his dysfunctional family running a fleabag motel on an interstate on the East Coast. Bunny hand puppets will never be the same—
Never Forever, Gina Kim, 2006
Vera Farmiga, David Lee McInnes, and Ha Jung-Woo make up a love triangle in this intriguing look at the conflict between passion and duty. Notable for featuring not one but two extremely hot and desirable Korean American men.
Colma: The Musical, Richard Wong & HP Mendoza, 2006
Exhilirating cinematography, engaging performances, great tunes, and poignant coming-of-age stories invigorate this neat little flick set in the drab Bay Area suburb of Colma, where fog and cemeteries define the landscape.
Phil Yu is THE Angry Asian Man; act like you knew. There's no voice on the internet more trusted than bringing you the latest news of note to the API community and he's been a major force in helping get the word on an all things AA cinema related.
Phil Yu's Starting Six
Flower Drum Song, Henry Koster, 1961
I agonized over what to include in this last spot. Yet again, I had to go with a movie that is arguably not even an Asian American film, but a relatively conventional, cookie-cutter Hollywood studio production, chock full of cheesy Chinese moments to roll your eyes at. It will also blow your mind. If we're talking about films as a jumping off point, this Rodgers and Hammerstein musical is a particularly intriguing artifact to examine (and, I'll admit, enjoy) nearly fifty years after its release.
Chan Is Missing, Wayne Wang, 1982
By a lot of measures, this is the film that started it all. Wayne Wang's landmark Chinatown narrative was an announcement: modern Asian American independent cinema was here, and would not be ignored. Nearly three decades later, it's rather amazing how this film still holds up.
Who Killed Vincent Chin, Renee Tajima and Christine Choy, 1989
This film changed my life. Like a lot of young, college-aged Asian Americans, watching this documentary was a profound moment in the politicization of my identity. It's not readily available, but to me, it's required viewing. Seek it out and watch it if and when the opportunity arises.
Better Luck Tomorrow, Justin Lin, 2002
This has to be on this list, right? Justin Lin's solo debut feature roared out of Sundance like a deafening wake-up call, giving us something unlike anything we'd ever seen, and ushering in a new era for Asian American independent cinema. Few films have replicated the impact of this film, but it provided us with a unique model as the Little Asian American Indie That Could.
Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle, Danny Leiner, 2004
I know, I'm cheating. This film is neither written nor directed by Asian Americans. It also probably doesn't need to be on this list, since it's fairly recent and was widely distributed. But it does feature two of our guys in the title roles. And as unremarkably crass and low-brow as this stoner comedy is, I'm going to put it out there that this unlikely movie is actually one of the most significant, revolutionary films for Asian American representation in the last decade. Come on, Asian American film scholars. I know you won't admit to it, but in your heart, you're with me.
Saving Face, Alice Wu, 2005
Marvelously written with some wonderful performances -- particularly from Joan Chen as Michelle Krusiec's illegitimately knocked up mom -- Alice Wu's charming, highly entertaining romantic comedy is simply a near-perfect example of a post-BLT independent Asian American film done right.
Honorable mentions: aka Don Bonus, Refugee, The Motel, Enter the Dragon
Labels: starting six
--O.W.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
A RESPONSE TO "HOLLYWOOD AND ASIANS: WHY PROTESTS ALONE WON'T CHANGE ANYTHING"
Angry Asian Man reported on a post by Philip Chung as to why protesting against anti-Asian scenes or characters in Hollywood films won't make a difference without market clout. To quote, "until Asian Americans as a whole are willing to put down our money to support the work of our Asian American filmmakers—nothing will change. We can protest all we want, but real change will not happen until Hollywood knows we are an economic force that can make a difference in their bottom line."
He goes into some detail in his analysis, including comparisons between the African American, Latino American and Asian American filmgoing audiences. He also acknowledges that part of the problem with Asian Americans supporting Asian American film is because:
- "a lot of Asian American films suck. And I agree with that. It’s hard to muster enthusiasm and support when you keep getting bombarded with these emails about how you have to support such and such film to show Hollywood that we have box office clout and you go to the theater and wind up watching one crappy movie after another."[1]
The one point I was waiting to hear Philip make - what, in my opinion, is the fundamental point - never came, much to my surprise. That is: the main reason why "Asian Americans as a whole" don't support Asian American film is because "Asian Americans as a whole" do not exist.
What I'm saying here should not come as some big revelation; the basics of the idea have been around for decades and the logic is rather intuitive.[2]
Asian Americans are a diverse conglomeration of very different ethnic groups - each with their own linguistic, cultural, religious, and political histories/traditions. Especially since Asian America is still a majority foreign-born population and overwhelmingly a 1st and 2nd generation immigrant community, our differences are far more numerous than our similarities.
The term "Asian American" is useful as a political identity and as a symbol of solidarity (or desire for such). It's a convenient fiction but one that also comes with some inconvenient truths, not the least of which is that it is unreasonable to expect that such a diverse community is going to unite around common causes, least of all cultural products.
In this regard, you really can't compare Asian Americans to African Americans who have an entirely different history, culturally and politically, that has contributed to their consumer clout. You can't compare Asian Americans to Latino Americans - the latter may also be pan-ethnic but there's no equivalent of Spanish language and Catholicism in the greater Asian American community to act as points of commonality. We also lack the demographic clout of both other groups given their larger population numbers.
Most importantly: there are still rampant examples of anti-Black and anti-Latino imagery in Hollywood. However viable "Black Hollywood" may be that has not suddenly made mainstream Hollywood politically enlightened when it comes to how Black men and women are portrayed. What is different - at best - are the shades of racism. You probably would not have seen a comedic scene where a White man is beating up a Black man, yelling "Kunta Kinte." But that doesn't mean there aren't more subtle forms of anti-Black racism being played for laughs elsewhere; it's just less unbelievably blatant than what we saw with The Goods. (The Angry Black Woman blog makes this same basic point too).
That's certainly a reflection of the different kind of political power African Americans can wield in this respect relative to Asian Americans. It also reflects the consumer demographic clout being spoken about too. But my point is that even with that, it doesn't prevent/insulate. These images have currency that exceed the level of political or economic will that could be brought to bear to prevent/attack them. Let that sober you up for a moment.
On another point: the lack of Asian American support for Asian American cinema is problematic for reasons that don't need to be rehashed but I think it's misdirected to argue that "we're not doing enough to support" without first trying to tackle this question: what is "our" motivation to support?
Why would Korean Americans care if a new film, directed by a Vietnamese American filmmaker, comes out? Will anyone besides Taiwanese Americans (and Dawson's Creek fans) flock to go see Formosa Betrayed?[3] And what about South Asian American cinema - a far far bigger genre than most (who are not South Asian) are even aware about? I never see people urging me to go see the latest Indian American comedy but I do get those emails when it's an East Asian American director. What does that say about "us"?
This is not even about political allegiances, it's about asking a more basic question that's been kicked around for years (and no one can answer for good reason): what kind of Asian American stories are going to have mass appeal across the AA spectrum? I can't imagine what the equivalent to an Asian American Tyler Perry would be since his films, whether you like them or not, could be said to be tapping into a critical mass of desire for certain images and characters that is big enough to be commercial viable. I don't know what the Asian American equivalent would be since it'd have to be pan-ethnic and pan-generational.
That's why I respectfully disagree with Philip's assertion that, "Nothing will change, if our community won’t step up and show Hollywood the green." There is no "community" that is meaningful here, at least not in the way Philip is trying to speak to. Suggesting that we aren't doing enough to support "our own" films makes large assumptions regarding the nature of a collective AA identity and community.
In essence, I'm questioning the underlying logic as to "why AAs don't go see AA films." It's not because of the quality of those films (though poorly made AA films don't help the cause). It's not because producers aren't doing enough to market. It's not because audiences are cheap/lazy/ignorant bastards. It's because there's no such thing as an "Asian American film" that could possibly speak to more than a fraction of AAs.
The best you could ask for, at least for the time being, is a film that happens to include Asian American filmmakers and/or actors but whose themes are more - and I seriously hate this word, but it gets batted around enough - "universal." The problem here, for me, is that "universal" is shorthand for "White" or, at best, "a Will Smith film." So to make a "successful" Asian American film in terms of box office would likely mean making a film that isn't actually distinguishable as "Asian American" except by its casting or staffing. Once you get to that point, you're walking a fine line where Asian American involvement can go from "incidental" to "irrelevant" and thus, "disposable" which puts us back at square one.
This is all getting off-tpic though; I think if things are going to change in terms of our images in mass media and Hollywood in particular, it will have to happen through other means than pushing for AA to unite as a consumer bloc.
***
First of all, there is one group that is far smaller than Asian Americans yet wields tremendous influence in Hollywood - Jewish Americans. Is there still anti-Semitism in Hollywood? Absolutely. But in terms of shades of difference, the kind of anti-Semitism that does exist is far more coded, on average, than the blatant forms of anti-Asian racism you see. That's for at least two reasons: 1) Jewish American political organizing has given them a great deal of clout to make their protests heard faster and taken more seriously than those of other groups. 2) As some of you may have heard, there's, uh, a lot of Jews in Hollywood, at every level in the industry. There's many reasons for this, not the least of which is that the entertainment industry was an avenue open to Jewish immigrants and their children at a time where anti-Semitism kept them out of other, traditional routes to upward mobility. That aside, what you have is a vertical integration of Jewish Americans in Hollywood from writers up to directors up to studio heads. A really terrible, anti-Jewish joke is going to have to make it past, in most cases, a lot of Jewish American eyes - and signatures - to get green-lit into production.
Asian Americans have made great strides to become better represented in Hollywood but we're just not at the same level and I think the fact that we're also not as well politically organized (for all the same reasons I laid out above), also limits the influence of individual AAs placed in the Hollywood structure.
This speaks to my second point: I think many people in Hollywood understand, on some basic level, you don't try to play up anti-Semitism for laughs (unless you happen to also be Jewish...see Sasha Baron Cohen in Borat for example) unless you really feel like having your bosses, JDL and Jewish American politicians come after your ass. (Despite this, you can still find plenty of examples of anti-Semitism in Hollywood...which goes back to my earlier point that these images have currency no matter what kind of influence you can hope to wield elsewhere).
I don't think there is a similar culture of avoiding anti-Asian humor in Hollywood. I think Asians are still easy, fair game by writers who have not gotten it into their head that, "this will get me into trouble." THAT is the real change that would need to happen - a shift in the culture of those working in the industry to stop and contemplate possible repercussions. Would an Asian American consumer bloc help with that? Absolutely. But so would greater involvement by Asian Americans in the industry itself. And so would greater Asian American political clout as we have seen through grass roots movements to protest those images we find offensive.
Philip's post was trying to say, "protests aren't enough," and while I agree with him to a certain extent, I feel like his post is throwing the baby out with the bathwater. If NOT for protests, then you have very little public awareness. And the less public awareness you have, the less likely it will be that you will affect change within the minds of writers, directors, studio heads, etc. who generate or green light bad characters and scenes to begin with.
Yes, we can speak with our green but that shouldn't minimize how effective, in many ways, public protests have been in changing the culture of Hollywood. It may be that folks are slow to listen but that alone isn't reason to stop hollerin'.
***
Notes:
[1] The irony is that in the comments section, someone was urging people to go out and support a new AA film which personally, I thought was terrible when I screened it for the SFIAAFF. Given that the film hasn't actually come out for release, I thought it was unfair to put it on blast but I just feel depressed that there's such a push to get people to see it. Then again, if it comes out and makes gobs of money, even if I think it's a bad film, it still could be said to be doing some good.
[2] It would be apropos to mention the two main texts dealing with these issues: Yen Le Espiritu's work on Asian American panethnicity or Lisa Lowe's seminal essay, "Heterogeneity, Hybridity and Multiplicity."
[3] Based on the previews of that film, I'm really tempted to call it Taipei-ssippi Burning but again, it's probably best to suspend judgement until it comes out.
In essence, I'm questioning the underlying logic as to "why AAs don't go see AA films." It's not because of the quality of those films (though poorly made AA films don't help the cause). It's not because producers aren't doing enough to market. It's not because audiences are cheap/lazy/ignorant bastards. It's because there's no such thing as an "Asian American film" that could possibly speak to more than a fraction of AAs.
The best you could ask for, at least for the time being, is a film that happens to include Asian American filmmakers and/or actors but whose themes are more - and I seriously hate this word, but it gets batted around enough - "universal." The problem here, for me, is that "universal" is shorthand for "White" or, at best, "a Will Smith film." So to make a "successful" Asian American film in terms of box office would likely mean making a film that isn't actually distinguishable as "Asian American" except by its casting or staffing. Once you get to that point, you're walking a fine line where Asian American involvement can go from "incidental" to "irrelevant" and thus, "disposable" which puts us back at square one.
This is all getting off-tpic though; I think if things are going to change in terms of our images in mass media and Hollywood in particular, it will have to happen through other means than pushing for AA to unite as a consumer bloc.
First of all, there is one group that is far smaller than Asian Americans yet wields tremendous influence in Hollywood - Jewish Americans. Is there still anti-Semitism in Hollywood? Absolutely. But in terms of shades of difference, the kind of anti-Semitism that does exist is far more coded, on average, than the blatant forms of anti-Asian racism you see. That's for at least two reasons: 1) Jewish American political organizing has given them a great deal of clout to make their protests heard faster and taken more seriously than those of other groups. 2) As some of you may have heard, there's, uh, a lot of Jews in Hollywood, at every level in the industry. There's many reasons for this, not the least of which is that the entertainment industry was an avenue open to Jewish immigrants and their children at a time where anti-Semitism kept them out of other, traditional routes to upward mobility. That aside, what you have is a vertical integration of Jewish Americans in Hollywood from writers up to directors up to studio heads. A really terrible, anti-Jewish joke is going to have to make it past, in most cases, a lot of Jewish American eyes - and signatures - to get green-lit into production.
Asian Americans have made great strides to become better represented in Hollywood but we're just not at the same level and I think the fact that we're also not as well politically organized (for all the same reasons I laid out above), also limits the influence of individual AAs placed in the Hollywood structure.
This speaks to my second point: I think many people in Hollywood understand, on some basic level, you don't try to play up anti-Semitism for laughs (unless you happen to also be Jewish...see Sasha Baron Cohen in Borat for example) unless you really feel like having your bosses, JDL and Jewish American politicians come after your ass. (Despite this, you can still find plenty of examples of anti-Semitism in Hollywood...which goes back to my earlier point that these images have currency no matter what kind of influence you can hope to wield elsewhere).
I don't think there is a similar culture of avoiding anti-Asian humor in Hollywood. I think Asians are still easy, fair game by writers who have not gotten it into their head that, "this will get me into trouble." THAT is the real change that would need to happen - a shift in the culture of those working in the industry to stop and contemplate possible repercussions. Would an Asian American consumer bloc help with that? Absolutely. But so would greater involvement by Asian Americans in the industry itself. And so would greater Asian American political clout as we have seen through grass roots movements to protest those images we find offensive.
Philip's post was trying to say, "protests aren't enough," and while I agree with him to a certain extent, I feel like his post is throwing the baby out with the bathwater. If NOT for protests, then you have very little public awareness. And the less public awareness you have, the less likely it will be that you will affect change within the minds of writers, directors, studio heads, etc. who generate or green light bad characters and scenes to begin with.
Yes, we can speak with our green but that shouldn't minimize how effective, in many ways, public protests have been in changing the culture of Hollywood. It may be that folks are slow to listen but that alone isn't reason to stop hollerin'.
Notes:
[1] The irony is that in the comments section, someone was urging people to go out and support a new AA film which personally, I thought was terrible when I screened it for the SFIAAFF. Given that the film hasn't actually come out for release, I thought it was unfair to put it on blast but I just feel depressed that there's such a push to get people to see it. Then again, if it comes out and makes gobs of money, even if I think it's a bad film, it still could be said to be doing some good.
[2] It would be apropos to mention the two main texts dealing with these issues: Yen Le Espiritu's work on Asian American panethnicity or Lisa Lowe's seminal essay, "Heterogeneity, Hybridity and Multiplicity."
[3] Based on the previews of that film, I'm really tempted to call it Taipei-ssippi Burning but again, it's probably best to suspend judgement until it comes out.
Labels: commentary
<< Home