Jimmy Thong Tran’s review of Crazy Rich Asians
Spoiler alert: Crazy Rich Asians is not the movie you think it’s going to be about.
Rachel Chu (played by Constance Wu), an American-born Chinese game theory professor in New York is invited by her boyfriend, Nick Young (played by Henry Golding, who didn’t have any prior acting experience), to attend his best friend’s wedding in his native Singapore, only to discover that Nick Young has a secret: he’s comfortable. Time to get our Trump on right? We get drone shots of comically luxurious estates, shipping container parties adrift between the Indian and Pacific oceans attended by drugged out twenty-somethings (#ketamine), and the gaudiness of Wye Mun Goh’s family (played by Ken Jeong) not even Missy Misdemeanor could save in 2018 (though Ken Jeong exists to be gaudy). Crazy Rich Asians is not a pronouncement of the (duh!) rising tide of China/Asia as the world’s superpower, nor is it a call to make more Lil Tays — it’s not even about the inner lives of the well-to-do Youngs, notably Eleanor Young (played by legendary Michelle Yeoh). At the heart of the film, Crazy Rich Asians is truly about Rachel Chu and her inner life.
Story is vital— the stories that are told to us by people who grew up just like us, to inform the stories we ultimately tell ourselves. Story is how we survive. You rarely see an Asian American woman (or man) at the center of any big-budget Hollywood production, hence all the fervor around it being the first all-Asian cast in 25 years (though, let’s not forget Better Luck Tomorrow). The best female Asian American representation we could hope for is a humanized accessory to what is someone else’s story (I haven’t seen Killing Eve nor Grey’s Anatomy yet, but I wager there is some great character work being done with Sandra Oh given her recent nomination).
Rachel Chu’s struggle is that of modern universality: she wants to be both professionally and personally satisfied. She wants to be comfortable by earning her keep, her way. Her inner struggle isn’t the docile rose-plucking of he loves me, loves me not which we as a culture often characterize as a woman’s inner-dialogue. Rachel’s moral quandary is that of game theory: given her ambitions, is Rachel’s love for Nick, a zero-sum game? Is she, the daughter of a poor single mother (Kerry Chu, played by Kheng Hua Tan), the gold digger that everyone else is projecting on her? What is the story she is telling herself? What is the story she needs to tell herself? Constance is not going to win an Oscar for Rachel, though, soon enough, your younger sister, your PG-13 cousins in Southeast Asia, or you will be asking yourselves “Am I being Rachel?” and it will hit more close to home than NBC ever did. You are not alone, someone has gone through exactly what you are going through. Stories are necessary because stories make us matter.
Kick me in my smart a$$, Crazy Rich Asians is super fun. They got Peik Lin Goh (played by Awkwafina) to be that cool drink of water when thangs got salty, Kina Grannis (of YouTube fame) to feature as the best wedding singer anyone could dream to book, and Katherine Ho’s Yellow is my new Faye Wong’s Dreams. The whole film production crew is at the top of their game. Crazy Rich Asians is as aesthetically mouthwatering as a Singaporean Night Market — Every Frame A Painting to come— the chat text messaging sequence is the most resplendent I have ever seen it executed, and just marvel at Constance Wu in the Cinderella dress, or a shirtless Nick Young — damn G, #goalz. You will want to lick the screen.
In 2018, how do we consume story? Jon and Kevin were close to signing a huge offer trilogy deal with Netflix, opting to give Crazy Rich Asians the red carpet treatment. Netflix is currently undeniable, yet the content juggernaut is still beholden to internet service providers (ISPs). Google Fiber is not omnipresent and net neutrality passed — oh how fast we all turn off any streaming content when UDP is under-performing, when crafted cinematic beauty is victim to digitally staggered missed connections. In the age of the internetz, how do you want your work of art seen for the first time? Statements matter, well, more to the point, download transfer speeds matter. Don’t worry, Crazy Rich Asians will of course end up on one of the streamers (as of April 2019: it’s on HBO) after the theatrical run is up regardless.
Eleanor Young’s declaration of Rachel Chu’s inadequacy (“You will never be enough”) reverberates as you read initial comments about the film from your friends and friends of friends on Facebook. With high-profile marketing comes high expectations: we expect this film to fulfill all of our needs (we need to be more Danish). Despite what the title suggests, Crazy Rich Asians is actually a working class film about Rachel Chu, made for the 99%, as 99% of stories are (to get to that 1% Friends money). I’ll say it, it’s a masterpiece in the rom-com genre, a bid for a box-office trilogy (how will Rachel have it all?), and as imperfectly perfect as being Asian American can be.
