The Joy Luck Club

Representation in Hollywood is something that has been given more attention in recent years, with boundaries continually being overcome in terms of portraying different races, cultures, and genders, but it’s hard to wash out the truly disgusting past examples that many minorities have had to deal with. Whether through being marginalized and forced into a one-note ‘’culturally acceptable’’ stereotype that has no awareness of the fluidity of culture, or just being flat out rejected due to fears of not being able to appease a ‘’dominantly white demographic’’, many minorities have had to climb an extra rocky mountain in order to finally get recognized respectfully in media. The Asian community is still in some parts facing similar strives, with limited leading roles, a familiar feeling of stereotyping, portrayals that mismatch different parts of a culture for something more basic or just being unable to present an Asian-based narrative through a mainstream lens without it being labelled as a ‘’foreign film’’. The 1993 American drama, The Joy Luck Club, was hoping to remove a lot of these hurdles when it was released, yet in spite of its success at the time and the hope that it blossomed, it never truly bloomed.

After the death of her mother, Suyuan Woo (played by Kieu Chan), her daughter, June (played by Ming-Na Wen) is the subject of a farewell party as she plans to travel to China in order to reunite with her long-lost sisters, whom her mother was forced to abandoned during the Japanese invasion of China in World War II. Those attending the party included Suyuan’s best friends and fellow Chinese immigrants, Lindo Jong (played by Tsai Chin), Ying-Ying St. Clair (played by France Nuyen) and An-Mei Hsu (played by Lisa Lu) along with their respective daughters, Waverly Jong (played by Tamlyn Tomita), Lena St. Clair (played by Lauren Tom) and Rose Hus Jordan (played by Rosalind Chao). During this party all about reflecting on the relationship between a mother and a daughter, each mother/daughter pair recollect about their fractured bonds, how it came from the mother’s harsh experiences in China, and how they were able to evolve past these issues and grow stronger together by finding home within a new land, which is what June herself will need to contend with now that her mother is gone and she is about to meet a previously unknown part of her family.

While The Joy Luck Club did well at the box office and was liked by critics, it wasn’t the trailblazer that the creative team hoped it would be, with many still viewing it as a foreign film despite its obvious ‘’Americanized’’ elements. Regardless of the film’s legitimate issues, this movie is respectfully likeable with a solid presentation of a solid source material, nice technicals, an atmosphere that balances a Chinese tonality with a more casual Western feel, and pretty great performances that showcase eight main leads in a very effective manner.

Based on the 1989 novel written by Amy Tan (who also helped write the film’s screenplay), the original novel was mostly well received, but did face some backlash for its portrayal of the Chinese American experience and for its regressive and even cruel take on China and Chinese men (who are all portrayed as one-note misogynistic boorish monsters). While these criticism should be addressed and were issues the film also dealt with, its main theme about mothers and daughters coming together after breaking down the generational barriers that separated them, is a universal theme that not only makes this film heartwarming and earnest, but also acts as a nice tool for integrating a Chinese-based narrative into a Western mainstream landscape, which was a major purpose behind making this feature. Unlike other examples that highlight a specific culture, it’s appreciated that this film actually contains a good chunk of talent who are of Chinese descent both in front of and behind the camera, which breaths a sense of believability or at least honesty in its showcase of Chinese-based content.

The director  was Hong Kong filmmaker, Wayne Wang, who was considered one of the first Chinese-American filmmakers to hold a steady career in Hollywood, producing a mixture of typical American movies like Smoke, Because of Winn-Dixie, Maid in Manhattan, Last Holiday and The Center of the World, as well as contemporary Asian-American stories which highlighted domestic issues like Dim Sum: A Little Bit of Heart, Eat a Bowl of Tea, Chinese Box, and A Thousand Years of Good Prayer. His direction for this film is fairly effective even though it does contain certain goofier elements that do in retrospect feel a little awkward, but in some strange way, these faults and this presentation may actively work in the film’s favor. The story is actually pretty great, and the script written by Tan and Ronald Bass (who is best known for writing the screenplay for Rain Man) does a very nice job adapting the book’s content into a condescend manner while still staying true to its inner voice and purpose. The dialogue is beautifully worded, its characters are surprising well laid out despite how many there are, and the direction by Wang brings a Western quality that in some ways, achieves the film’s desire to produce an approachable Chinese story for Hollywood without watering down its roots. Maybe a more stable and grounded approach could’ve been more effective (especially in today’s market where this kind of narrative wouldn’t be so abnormal), but for the time and what it hoped to achieve, it does feel like it was the right call.

For a story of this magnitude with a total of eight leading characters, it would be very difficult to fit all of that material into a roughly two-hour running time. However, against the odds, this movie is able to achieve just that through its tight scripting, which details each women’s unique backstory (both the mothers and the daughters), provides a sensible amount of personality and context to make each feel distinct, and even offers a quick resolution to each of their arcs without losing focus on the film’s overall message as well as its central purpose. Each of these mother/daughter pairings contain their own level of intrigue, a fair share of sentimentality that is matched with a nice sense of genuine connection underneath a lot of hardship, and a lot of these moments are carried by a good sense of direction, very effective writing that is worded in a lyrical fashion yet doesn’t come across as pretentious or confusing, and some very good performances by all eight actresses. While this film doesn’t handle many of its male characters in the most flattering or at best, most interesting light (Asian or otherwise), its presentation of Chinese American and Chinese-immigrant women is quite strong, each being given a sense of dignity, struggle, and inner turmoil to make them feel complex, flawed yet not bad, and genuine in a way that doesn’t feature any sense of stereotyping.

Lindo’s backstory is pretty well detailed, the actress playing her as a young girl (Irene Ng), does pretty great with such a small part, and the resolution between her and her daughter is pretty touching, Ying-Ying’s past is arguably the most bare, but it still has its startling elements and the way it ties into her daughter’s own toxic marriage leads to a nice ending, and An-Hei’s past is easily the most fleshed out and fascinating, and while her daughter’s romantic struggle is not as harsh or abusive, it definitely results in a satisfying end. Tsai Chin, France Nuyen, and Lisa Lu are very good at narrating their stories and authentically performing their parts, and Tamlyn Tomita, Lauren Tom and Rosalind Chao also do well with their brief, but still impactful parts as the daughters having to cope with more contemporary issues in a new country but are still able to relate with their mother’s and the struggles they went through. Ming-Na Wen as the lead does get a little less screen time than the rest of the cast, which can also be said for Kieu Chinh as her mother, but her plot is pretty emotionally engaging (especially the ending), and Ming-Na Wen is such a great talent that she’s able to do a lot with even the briefest of screentime.

As previously stated, there are various elements in this movie that make it feel more like a traditional Hollywood flick of the era, but some are definitely a little more overtly time specific. The film manages to look pretty nice, with cinematography by Amir Mokri that knows how to remain stable during moments that require stillness to emphasis a feeling of weight but also can get the regular close ups and mobile shots to show off the environments in an equally solid enough fashion. Because the film is presented in a fairly realistic manner and has a pretty subdued and reflective atmosphere, it isn’t home to many fancily cinematic shots or components, but that isn’t a bad thing and arguably helps the film in the long run. The homely production design by Donald Graham Burt and set decoration by Jim Poynter manages to look authentic but not overly dramatic or entirely foreign in appeal to a regular American house of the era. It has a lot of red hues, Chinese-specific iconography and an overall Asian personality, but isn’t positioned in a way that feels hard to comprehend, it feels properly handled and furthers the point of blending the cultures in a way that doesn’t erase the other. The film has an odd smoky filter over everything which makes a good chunk of it look a little hazy in many places even when it shouldn’t, but it thankfully isn’t too much of an issue and in moments where that kind of presentation fits like in a dilapidated and poor Chinese village or a woodland environment during the early morning, it works fairly well. The music by Rachael Portman feels appropriate for the kind of story on display, and while it can be a little sappy when it’s played up during the emotional moments to the point that it can feel slightly melodramatic, it is still a nice piece of music.

The Joy Luck Club was supposed to represent a change in the way Asian talent was portrayed in Hollywood and could’ve acted as a launching off point for many upcomers and veterans to explore newer avenues. However, this wasn’t really the case, as the movie didn’t shake the boat very much, and went out as quickly as it arrived, with not much recognition outside of its original window (the media seemed more interested that Oliver Stone helped as an executive producer, which is just a whole other can of ironic worms). Opportunities for Asian talent have gotten better, but it hasn’t been pushed forward enough to be as noticeable as it could be, and with movies like this that are showing what can happen when they’re allowed to present their stories as openly and faithfully as possible, it shows the solid potential that’s being ignored. This movie is likeable, passionate, filled with memorable characters led by great actresses, and is a very well-constructed film from a writing and directing standpoint, to the point where even some of its awkward element’s work in its favor. It’s not a perfect flick as there are elements that maybe could’ve been updated a touch to work more flowingly, the male characters are annoyingly cartoonish, and a more serious presentation might be interesting to witness in a remake or something along the lines, but outside of that, this is a pleasant flick to reminisce on.