Been Thinking About "Minari"...

and how I feel guilty for not liking it and if I should be rooting for everyone Asian

I can’t think of a movie I’ve wanted to like as much as I wanted to like “Minari.”

My family immigrated to Ithaca, a college town in upstate New York, in 1984. Like the family in the movie, we too are a family of four, with a son and daughter (except I’m the elder). My parents also moved to Little Rock, Arkansas (in 2010). The movie starred Steven Yeun, who in my eyes is the best Korean American actor working today. It was written and directed by Lee Isaac Chung, a Korean American. Plus it was produced by A24. 

On the surface, it had all the ingredients I’d been wanting in a movie about the Asian American experience. One that I hoped that I could relate to. But I struggled with it. Immensely. And a lot of it is my fault. 

There is a sense of racial or ethnic FOMO. Sometimes there’s the, “You didn’t watch it yet?!” I can’t decide if, “You didn’t like it?!” is worse or not. Sometimes I feel a sense of racial duty or need to do something in the name of racial solidarity. I get enough shit for not listening to KPop or watching KDramas. Or maybe it’s me interpreting people being surprised that I don’t as them giving me shit.

As “Minari” went on my excitement for it faded. I don’t even know how to describe how I was feeling. Mostly, I felt letdown. I felt bad for not liking it. I felt betrayed by the people who’d posted that it was a great film. I trusted y’all! It was impossible to escape the excitement around the film.

I felt like a bad Asian, a bad Asian American, a bad Korean, a bad Korean American, a bad immigrant. Like why did this not do anything for me? Why couldn’t I connect to it? Another Korean American told me that she cried throughout the whole movie and I was thinking, is something wrong with me?

In terms of the film, I feel like while the right elements were in place they weren’t fully realized nor fully explored. A lot of it felt surface-y. I had issues with the characters not looking like they were Korean American immigrants in rural Arkansas in the ‘80s. I had issues with their wardrobe looking too modern, like today’s version of ‘80s-inspired fashion. I had issues with Steven Yeun’s character’s undershirt being so white even when he worked the land. I had issues with the couple being too attractive. I had issues with the daughter’s character disappearing for big chunks of the film. I had issues with the weird white guy’s character feeling like he existed solely to be a weird white guy character. The boy was cute like every precocious little cute kid film character.

Mostly it just felt flat. I didn’t really care what happened to the characters. The shots were pretty. A24 does aesthetics and marketing really well.  

The only review I read that expressed similar frustrations with the film was in the New Yorker. I read the positive reviews too. Almost all of them mentioned that the movie was mostly in Korean, the controversy surrounding it being nominated in the foreign-language category, and the opportunity for it to make awards history. To me, it’s never a good sign when there’s more written about what the art represents or could represent than the actual quality of the art.

While reading one of the reviews, I realized what bothered me most about the movie. They mention a scene when the grandmother watches a video of a couple singing on TV. She turns to her grandkids and says, “Whenever someone made your mom and dad sing this song, they’d get all lovey-dovey.” You see the father eating alone in silence at the dinner table. His wife, standing away from the table with a distant look in her eyes says, “Did we?” and sits down to join him. It ends with the grandma saying, “They come to America and forget everything.” 

For me? I would have cut that last line from grandma. Instead, keep us there, make us sit in the uncomfortableness of the once “love-dovey” couple eating in silence as a song they once loved plays in the background. Make us feel grandma’s line instead of having her deliver it. I can’t for sure say that this was done throughout the movie but the feeling was that it was a pretty linear and literal story.

Perhaps, “Minari” couldn’t be that type of film. What if the lead characters weren’t so clean and easy on the eyes but looked rather like gritty working-class farmers of the rural‘80s that I envisioned? What if the kids were a little dark and twisted and kind and funny? What if the characters had more layers to them?

Most likely, we’re not ready for that movie. We as in society at large, Hollywood, and maybe Asian Americans. Maybe, I’m missing the point. Maybe we do need to see good-looking actors represent us. Maybe we do need to see a cute Asian kid character being cute because we rarely get to see them. Maybe we just want to feel good about ourselves when we see ourselves.

But then, should we not be critical when the creators are our own people? And what do we gain from not doing that? Can we get better without constructive criticism? Or are we afraid to do it when it feels like outsiders are looking in? Or are we afraid that if one doesn’t succeed there won’t be another?

I try to remind myself that change takes time. I try to remind myself that journeys are comprised of steps. I try to remind myself that it’s OK to not like things, regardless of who made them.

In my mind, creators in Asia are freer to create what they want without feeling the pressures of representing a whole mass of people. I’m more drawn to the weird and strange works of Korean directors than I am of the heavy-headed “representation” messaging in some of the recent works of American BIPOC directors. I wonder if it’s easier to push boundaries when you feel less bound to expectations.

The image at the top is from one of those such films. And to me, Steven Yeun is so much better in it. The characters stay with you long after you see it. His character gets under your skin. You’ll think about the movie for days.

See, I do like something Asian and Korean, you can’t fully revoke my Asian/Korean/Yellow Card, yet.

Do those even exist?