Crazy Rich Asians
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Constance wu
henry golding
michelle yeoh
I chose to help my husband run a business, and to raise a family. For me, it was a privilege. But for you, you may think it’s old-fashioned. But all this — doesn’t just happen. It’s because we know to put family first.
~ Eleanor Sung-Young
Quick fox: A - | Copper
winding dragon
Crazy Rich Asians is one of the most talked about movies of 2018 — for better and for worse. As the first Hollywood blockbuster to feature a predominantly Asian cast since The Joy Luck Club in 1993, the microscopic scrutinization on this film is arguably on a higher level than recent culturally-relevant productions such as Coco (2017) or Black Panther (2018). Fair or not, the expectancy for Crazy Rich Asians, is that it not only represents Asian-America but all of Asia. This is not an outlandish statement; do some quick Internet research and you will discover that most of the criticism for Crazy Rich Asians is because it: excludes Singaporean culture, perpetuates Chinese dominance in both America and Singapore, stars Awkwafina using a black accent, transposes a Gatsbyesque plot with Asian actors, and adheres to Western ethics of family and romance.
All of this can be summed up in one statement: Crazy Rich Asians is not Asian enough.
Let me reiterate: Crazy Rich Asians is not Asian enough.
Let that sink in. The first Hollywood attempt at depicting Asian-America in over two decades is being asked to be perfect on the first try. I don’t know how much more harmful or stereotypically Asian you can get. But it’s kind of fitting for a movie that’s a Cinderella tale of a young, Asian-American woman who meets her boyfriend’s family and discovers that they’re not just Asian — they’re crazy rich Asian.
Based on Kevin Kwan’s novel, the “Cinderella” of our story is NYU economics professor Rachel Chu (Constance Wu), who is in a wonderful relationship with a charming, handsome “prince” named Nick Young (Henry Golding). Nick invites Rachel to meet his family; although, this will be a special occasion as his best friend Colin (Chris Pang) is getting married to Araminta (Sonoya Mizuno) in their native country of Singapore. Oh, but something seems to have slipped Nick’s mind: the Young family is the most powerful, wealthiest family in all of Singapore. When Rachel arrives, she visits Peik Lin (Awkwafina), a friend from college, whose home is gilded in so much gold Peik Lin comments that it’s like living in Trump’s bathroom. Yet, Peik Lin’s home pales in comparison to the Young estate. Rachel stumbles her way through an overwhelming pre-wedding party — a taxidermy tiger lunges from the corner of the hallway, she sits on furniture older than Singapore itself, and watches the tan hua flower bloom, which occurs only one night a year. However, the most imposing part for Rachel is meeting Nick’s mother, Eleanor Sung-Young (Michelle Yeoh). It’s clear Eleanor does not approve of Rachel. The reasons are plenty — from being a mere Economics professor to not understanding certain Chinese customs — but most of all, Rachel is an American. (In other words, she’s not Asian enough. Sound familiar?) No matter what Rachel does, she’s playing with a losing hand — if Nick chooses Rachel, he loses his family; if they break up, Nick will resent his mother. No matter what, Rachel is trapped in a Cinderella story, except Eleanor is the one holding the glass slipper.
The narrative structure of Crazy Rich Asians is like a modern day fairy tale — an Asian version of Kate Middleton marrying Prince William. And that’s on purpose. Director Jon M. Chu explained that he wanted to create a familiar Hollywood romance (in other words, stories that have traditionally featured white characters) to demonstrate that Asianness does not diminish major audience appeal. Here’s the perfect example of what Chu is talking about: Kevin Kwan was actually approached by a movie producer to adapt his novel…but wanted to whitewash Rachel. Kwan was so horrified at the prospect that he sold his book rights to Color Force for $1, provided he retain the right to be heavily involved in the casting process. If the box office has anything to say about it, Jon Chu has been completely validated, as Crazy Rich Asians is the highest grossing romantic comedy in over a decade.
Crazy Rich Asians deserves credit for not just settling for being a political prop piece. Consider the history of Hollywood blatantly letting Asian narratives and characters fall to the wayside (and yes, I’m just going to call out a bunch of films, so go look up the reasons why yourselves): 21, Aloha, Argo, Batman Begins, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Doctor Strange, Exodus: Gods and Monsters, Ghost in the Shell, The Great Wall, The Last Samurai, The Last Airbender, The Martian, Sixteen Candles, and Speed Racer. Keep in mind, these are literally just the ones I could think up off the top of my head. It would have been easy for Crazy Rich Asians to settle for being a political gesture in Hollywood, but instead, it takes risks I rarely see in romantic comedies.
While Crazy Rich Asians is certainly hilarious and visually-dazzling (it sure as hell better get nomination for Best Production Design and Best Costume Design at the 91st Academy Awards), it shines most when it’s at its most simplistic. The purpose of the movie is building Rachel towards her realization that she doesn’t quite belong in Nick’s universe, and perhaps, never will. Spa days with women wearing bikinis that probably cost more than Rachel’s entire salary, passive-aggressive comments about honoring tradition while Rachel is making dumplings with Nick’s family, helicopter rides to Southeast Asian islands — it all leads to a metaphoric Mahjong game between Eleanor and Rachel. Gone are the fireworks and fancy ornamentation; it’s a small Mahjong parlor occupied by ordinary men and women keeping to themselves. I’m not going to give away what’s said in this scene, but everything hinges on brilliant acting performances from Constance Wu and Michelle Yeoh. The dialogue in this scene (and honestly, the whole movie has a great screenplay) is very clever because it’s a final message from Rachel to Eleanor. Although the message could be applied within the confines of the film itself, it’s also a final statement to the audience watching: being Asian enough isn’t a standard other people define — we define it for ourselves.
Crazy Rich Asians is a major victory for Asian-America, because the film knew it was never going to represent every single issue facing Asian-Americans, so it provided us with a specific story and told the hell out of it. More importantly, it figured out that the best way to appeal to a mass audience is to be honest with taking an indescribable standard — not being Asian enough — and giving the audience an emotional, tangible example. The idea of not being [___] enough is something that all people can understand, even if you’re not Asian.
I’m not sure if I would call Crazy Rich Asians the most important socio-political film of 2018, but it might be the most entertaining. Putting politics aside for a moment, this is an impressive movie on its acting and art direction alone. The balance of modernistic and naturalistic environments blend wonderfully, and Michelle Yeoh’s performance is one of my favorites I’ve see so far this year. She’s regal, graceful, and acts as somebody with complete discernment. Her subtle facial expressions of disappointment and judgment when she meets Rachel make the viewing worth it alone. Some of the humor may fall flat (especially if you’re not as big a fan of Ken Jeong or Awkwafina), but Crazy Rich Asians does not fail to provide a wild spectacle.