AZN MAN
Sep 2nd, 2008, 12:32 AM
I received this URL from HK a couple of days ago; the article is written by a film critic regarding AA films and thought that some of you may be interested in reading it. Since it's a subscription site, I listed the full article.
http://www.scmp.com/portal/site/SCMP/menuitem.2c913216495213d5df646910cba0a0a0/?vgnextoid=a3569af758d0c110VgnVCM100000360a0a0aRCR D&vgnextfmt=teaser&ss=Film&s=Life
Play it for laughs
Asian-American filmmakers are leaving the ethnic niche to reach a wider audience
Richard James Havis
Aug 31, 2008
If you think that all Asian-American films are self-conscious affairs about cultural identity, think again. After the hit Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle and its sequel, Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay - cheerful pieces of hokum about a Korean-American and an Indian-American - some Asian filmmakers here have been trading introspection for laughs.
Ping Pong Playa, a comedy about a table tennis team, is among the latest. "Comedy has always been missing from the Asian-American film scene so we thought we'd make one," said its director Jessica Yu after its screening at New York's Asian-American International Film Festival (AAIFF) recently, to whoops of approval from the audience.
Asian-American comedy has certainly been rare, but there have been other examples. Take Justin Lin's Finishing the Game, a mockumentary about Bruce Lee clones auditioning to complete the kung fu master's unfinished Game of Death.
Ping Pong Playa is equally funny. Set in a nondescript suburb, it's a knockabout comedy about a Chinese team battling against the odds to win a local table tennis competition. Although some of the laughs come from witty jibes at racial stereotypes, the emphasis is more on fun than cultural analysis.
The change is all down to evolution, says Jimmy Tsai, a charismatic performer who co-wrote and starred in Ping Pong Playa. Asian-American filmmakers realise they have to make more varied films to avoid atrophy, he says. "We've realised that we can't keep making the same kind of introspective films over and over again. We really do need to evolve as a genre."
Tsai hopes to see "more action and horror movies where the characters just happen to be Asian. We need to have more films that are not just focused on our ethnic identity." It is happening, but it is a slow, evolving process, he says.
"Asian-American cinema became very self-indulgent, and that's part of the reason it got the reputation of being sterile," Tsai says. "We need to start making films in which identity is not so much of an issue. That's one of the ideas that inspired us to make Ping Pong Playa. It's a very broad comedy."
Steve Mallorca, a Filipino-American, agrees. He produced his debut movie Slow Jam King by raising cash from small investors. The film churns comedy and tough street drama into a frenetic whole. Although some of the jokes reference the Filipino community here, the humour is accessible to all. Slow Jam King found a US distributor and was favourably reviewed by The New York Times.
"I think people's first projects usually focus on identity issues," Mallorca says. "But they often decide to do something else for their second film." Filmmakers now realise they need to put a new twist on the idea of identity, he says. "Everyone worries about getting stuck with the reputation of being a self-conscious filmmaker."
Making films in genres such as crime or horror can also help, adds Mallorca, as they are more palatable to investors. It's difficult to interest investors in Asian-American drama. "You write stuff that comes from you, that tells your story, and you want to keep working on it," he says. "But then you start to think, Well, am I making life more difficult for myself? Should I be working on something that's easier to sell?"
According to John Woo, a long-time authority on Asian-American films and head of the AAIFF, Justin Lin's 2002 suburban crime film Better Luck Tomorrow is a model for what's happening now: it features an Asian-American cast, but doesn't make a point about their ethnicity.
The film broke the stereotype, Woo says. "Lin took the stereotypes and used them as springboards to create different types of characters. They were played by Asians, but he didn't focus on that."
Today, filmmakers don't set out to make films that only appeal to Asian-Americans. "They want to tell the stories that are close to them in a way that has universal appeal," he says. "Because of the politics and economics of filmmaking, you have to make your story appeal to the widest audience possible."
Films about identity politics are still being made, says Woo. They're often the first choice of students and first-time directors. Others explore different areas. "Filmmakers don't want to be categorised or thought of as ethnic filmmakers," he says. "Their main aim is to tell a good story that will appeal to all."
Interestingly, what's generally considered the first Asian-American feature film did just that. Wayne Wang's Chan is Missing, made in 1982, is as much an independent film as an Asian-American one.
Made at the height of the New York independent boom, Chan sits nicely alongside works by Jim Jarmusch and others as a classic of indie filmmaking. Wang went on to define the typical Asian-American film - exploring social and family issues - with The Joy Luck Club.
Recent Asian-American successes include Alice Wu's Saving Face, which sought to expand the genre by dealing with same-sex love in a romantic context.
It's tempting to conclude that Asian-Americans feel more secure of their place in US society, and that's why they're able to laugh at themselves.
But Mallorca disagrees. "The social issues are still there. I don't think people are any more comfortable with them than before. It's more that filmmakers want to present themselves in a different kind of way." He says special film festivals have widened the audience, which has become more discerning and demands variety.
Woo thinks there's still work to be done. "There is a small group of Asian-Americans who identify themselves as Asian-Americans, but not everyone wants to be a part of that. We point out that our films are not about typical Asian-American issues ... that there's a variety of products out there."
Ping Pong Playa's Tsai thinks the scene is healthy. "Some filmmakers still want to make films about Asian-American issues, and some want to make more mainstream films. There are enough of us for both approaches," he says.
"If you can go out there as an Asian-American and make a bigger mainstream movie, all the more power to you. We can build a power base. That's the way we'll get more Asian-American films made."
http://www.scmp.com/portal/site/SCMP/menuitem.2c913216495213d5df646910cba0a0a0/?vgnextoid=a3569af758d0c110VgnVCM100000360a0a0aRCR D&vgnextfmt=teaser&ss=Film&s=Life
Play it for laughs
Asian-American filmmakers are leaving the ethnic niche to reach a wider audience
Richard James Havis
Aug 31, 2008
If you think that all Asian-American films are self-conscious affairs about cultural identity, think again. After the hit Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle and its sequel, Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay - cheerful pieces of hokum about a Korean-American and an Indian-American - some Asian filmmakers here have been trading introspection for laughs.
Ping Pong Playa, a comedy about a table tennis team, is among the latest. "Comedy has always been missing from the Asian-American film scene so we thought we'd make one," said its director Jessica Yu after its screening at New York's Asian-American International Film Festival (AAIFF) recently, to whoops of approval from the audience.
Asian-American comedy has certainly been rare, but there have been other examples. Take Justin Lin's Finishing the Game, a mockumentary about Bruce Lee clones auditioning to complete the kung fu master's unfinished Game of Death.
Ping Pong Playa is equally funny. Set in a nondescript suburb, it's a knockabout comedy about a Chinese team battling against the odds to win a local table tennis competition. Although some of the laughs come from witty jibes at racial stereotypes, the emphasis is more on fun than cultural analysis.
The change is all down to evolution, says Jimmy Tsai, a charismatic performer who co-wrote and starred in Ping Pong Playa. Asian-American filmmakers realise they have to make more varied films to avoid atrophy, he says. "We've realised that we can't keep making the same kind of introspective films over and over again. We really do need to evolve as a genre."
Tsai hopes to see "more action and horror movies where the characters just happen to be Asian. We need to have more films that are not just focused on our ethnic identity." It is happening, but it is a slow, evolving process, he says.
"Asian-American cinema became very self-indulgent, and that's part of the reason it got the reputation of being sterile," Tsai says. "We need to start making films in which identity is not so much of an issue. That's one of the ideas that inspired us to make Ping Pong Playa. It's a very broad comedy."
Steve Mallorca, a Filipino-American, agrees. He produced his debut movie Slow Jam King by raising cash from small investors. The film churns comedy and tough street drama into a frenetic whole. Although some of the jokes reference the Filipino community here, the humour is accessible to all. Slow Jam King found a US distributor and was favourably reviewed by The New York Times.
"I think people's first projects usually focus on identity issues," Mallorca says. "But they often decide to do something else for their second film." Filmmakers now realise they need to put a new twist on the idea of identity, he says. "Everyone worries about getting stuck with the reputation of being a self-conscious filmmaker."
Making films in genres such as crime or horror can also help, adds Mallorca, as they are more palatable to investors. It's difficult to interest investors in Asian-American drama. "You write stuff that comes from you, that tells your story, and you want to keep working on it," he says. "But then you start to think, Well, am I making life more difficult for myself? Should I be working on something that's easier to sell?"
According to John Woo, a long-time authority on Asian-American films and head of the AAIFF, Justin Lin's 2002 suburban crime film Better Luck Tomorrow is a model for what's happening now: it features an Asian-American cast, but doesn't make a point about their ethnicity.
The film broke the stereotype, Woo says. "Lin took the stereotypes and used them as springboards to create different types of characters. They were played by Asians, but he didn't focus on that."
Today, filmmakers don't set out to make films that only appeal to Asian-Americans. "They want to tell the stories that are close to them in a way that has universal appeal," he says. "Because of the politics and economics of filmmaking, you have to make your story appeal to the widest audience possible."
Films about identity politics are still being made, says Woo. They're often the first choice of students and first-time directors. Others explore different areas. "Filmmakers don't want to be categorised or thought of as ethnic filmmakers," he says. "Their main aim is to tell a good story that will appeal to all."
Interestingly, what's generally considered the first Asian-American feature film did just that. Wayne Wang's Chan is Missing, made in 1982, is as much an independent film as an Asian-American one.
Made at the height of the New York independent boom, Chan sits nicely alongside works by Jim Jarmusch and others as a classic of indie filmmaking. Wang went on to define the typical Asian-American film - exploring social and family issues - with The Joy Luck Club.
Recent Asian-American successes include Alice Wu's Saving Face, which sought to expand the genre by dealing with same-sex love in a romantic context.
It's tempting to conclude that Asian-Americans feel more secure of their place in US society, and that's why they're able to laugh at themselves.
But Mallorca disagrees. "The social issues are still there. I don't think people are any more comfortable with them than before. It's more that filmmakers want to present themselves in a different kind of way." He says special film festivals have widened the audience, which has become more discerning and demands variety.
Woo thinks there's still work to be done. "There is a small group of Asian-Americans who identify themselves as Asian-Americans, but not everyone wants to be a part of that. We point out that our films are not about typical Asian-American issues ... that there's a variety of products out there."
Ping Pong Playa's Tsai thinks the scene is healthy. "Some filmmakers still want to make films about Asian-American issues, and some want to make more mainstream films. There are enough of us for both approaches," he says.
"If you can go out there as an Asian-American and make a bigger mainstream movie, all the more power to you. We can build a power base. That's the way we'll get more Asian-American films made."