Crazy Rich Asians (2018) - Movie Review

The plot: Asian-American Rachel (Constance Wu) is invited by her boyfriend Nick (Henry Golding) to attend his best friend's wedding in Singapore and meet his family. However, Rachel discovers that Nick's family are among the richest business magnates in the region, and while she's coming to terms with that fact, she also has to deal with Nick's mother Eleanor (Michelle Yeoh) insisting that Rachel is the wrong girl for her son.

Constance Wu is frankly astounding here as the female lead, making for one of the most ideal I’ve seen in a romantic setting. Her chemistry with pretty much everyone here is on point, she is exceedingly charming, and the way she balances her very fish-out-of-water narrative circumstances with a quiet drive to prevail against what gets thrown at her ends up giving the thematic core of the film a lot of extra punch. Opposite her, Henry Golding is equally charming, equally ideal as a romantic lead, and as what ultimately amounts to a bit of Prince Charming wish fulfillment, he sure gives that role a lot of urgency and earnestness that solidifies the main romance as something worth being invested in. Especially since it also gives us one of the more down-to-earth ‘monster in-laws’ I can recall with Yeoh’s icy yet grounded performance here.

 

Gemma Chan and Pierre Png as Nick’s cousin and her husband respectively make for a very realistic coupling, making for that rare rom-com subplot that actually contributes something vital to the whole. Awkwafina as Rachel’s best friend brings that infectious New York energy to the proceedings (and considering one of her main actions is getting Ken Jeong as her father out of the frame, that only makes her even more endearing) and Chris Pang and Sonoya Mizuno as Nick’s best friend and fiancée respectively allow for an exceptionally warm introduction to this film’s depiction of Singapore, not to mention being the linchpins for some of the story’s most visually-arresting moments.

The phrase “visually-arresting” feels weird to write in this context, considering we’re dealing with Jon M. Chu, director of such creatively inept backwash as Justin Bieber: Never Say Never and the previously-trounced Jem And The Holograms. However, this film’s aesthetic isn’t so much a change of pace as much as it is a spark for some possible critical re-evaluation because, holy hell, this is one of the most stunning films I’ve ever covered on here from a purely visual perspective. Everything from the set design to the costuming to the food (please, do not watch this film on an empty stomach; you might want to bum rush the concession stand on the way out) show a very eye-catching display of what the story’s version of “old money” looks like. Ornate, and yet domestic. Lavish, and yet tasteful. Culturally imposing, and yet strangely inviting.

 

Between Chu’s direction, a gig he landed because he was able to wow the producers with sheer visual storytelling, the camera work of DOP Vanja Cernjul, and the numerous hands that worked on the production design here, an aesthetic of dynastic royalty is presented, one which shows not only a lot of time and care being put in but also one that makes for a perfectly reasonable launching-off point for the film’s musings about cultural and socioeconomic intimidation.

This is one of those situations where the film’s take on social conflict and divides between cultural and economic upbringing is so accurate that parts of it wound up leaking into some initial criticisms concerning the film. To avoid bogging down this entire review by discussing the backlash towards the film’s casting at any great length, let’s just say that there was a lot to be said about how picking Wu and Golding as the leads tilted a few heads in regards to ‘true Asian representation’, not to mention representing the region of Singapore as a whole. It amounts largely to questions about casting biracial actors in the lead, and possibly side-lining the ethnic diversity of the region, not to mention including a cast that while full of actors of Asian descent (something of a rarity even in modern-day Hollywood) also didn’t meet certain expectations regarding wider representation.

This might just be the colonial ignorance of my prevailing whiteness talking but this whole discussion about whether certain actors are ‘Asian enough’, and the right kind of Asian on top of that? I can scarcely imagine a situation where white actors would go through the same problems, where they are actually white but not ‘white enough’ or from the right European ancestry. If anything, whiteness in cinema is a situation where the one-drop rule might actually be accurate, given the prevalence of lighter-skinned actors not just in Hollywood but also in productions that make it to the West from Japan, China and even India. My main local cinema gets a lot of Eastern cinema and, having sat through a fair share of it over the last few years, it's something that I can't help but keep noticing.

Then again, all of that results in a need to take into account the differences in cultural priorities, and it’s here where the casting criticisms end up aligning with the very attitude that this film seems intent to reject and dispel. Part of China’s prominent collectivism is a by-product of the culture’s view on family, where each member of a given family unit has to put their blood line as a whole in front of their own individuality. This gets brought up frequently during the simmering conversations between Rachel and Eleanor, where looking down on the lower-middle class and the acknowledgement of Rachel’s American upbringing ends up unearthing some honestly pretty sad ideas. Especially when Eleanor brings up Rachel’s independence and success as an economics professor as part of her Americanism, highlighting the “American” part of the “American Dream”. Not gonna lie, even as someone who frequently rails against how thoroughly debunked that concept is, this film made me take a step back and really think about that in a more multicultural context. It also builds on the film’s depiction of family loyalties, which contribute to Rachel’s most powerful moments on-screen.

Not that any of this is particularly new, even with this distinct switch-up in aesthetic and thematic texturing. The notion of the wealthy quasi-royal person giving up their luxurious trappings for the one they love, with said love being from a different social class, is something of a cliché in the romantic genre. It’s the kind of thing highlighted in a lot of biopics about British royalty and fairy tale-reminiscent yarns about the handsome prince sweeping a homely princess-in-the-making off her feet. Hell, looking strictly at rom-com conventions, we have the lot here: The familial friction about the potential new member, the unhealthy expectation heaped onto her by not only the family but also those closely connected to it, even the bane of my existence that is the third-act break-up. While the admitted succeeding of the relative competition applies to all of those, not to mention Astrid/Michael’s subplot that adds further credence to the examinations of inter-class relationships, this is still a story made up of quite familiar parts.

And believe it or not, that ends up being a very strong point in the film’s favour. Yes, this kind of quasi-Cinderella story is all but memorised word-for-word in the collective cultural consciousness… but in the predominantly white cultural consciousness. We’ve seen this before, but usually when helmed by Caucasian filmmakers, Caucasian actors and with backing from studios based primarily in the West. That point seems to be more in-flux of late, given the prevalence of American-based but Chinese-owned Legendary Pictures over this past year, but as far as cultural history goes, this is something that usually gets reserved for what most studios consider the majority of their audience. Except over the last handful of years, there has been a major pushback against this. Black Panther, Wonder Woman, Ocean’s 8, even the 2016 Ghostbusters reboot; those who were considered the outliers of that demographic are now more visible than they have been in a very long time. And oddly enough, the main narratives of those films aren’t really anything new: Comic book-inspired blockbusters, star-studded ensemble pieces, genre-drenched comedies, and so on.

This film is no different, and it’s the fact that it feels so familiar that gives it even more worth. It serves as another nail in the coffin concerning the hand-waving regarding cultural representation and how there isn’t enough of an audience for it, or that there’s no one qualified enough to make it work. No, we can have minority representation in mainstream cinema, and filmmakers don't exactly have to bend over backwards writing-wise to make it happen. When dealing with a story this culturally rich, an aesthetic this mesmerising, and acting that collectively marks a serious high point for the year’s cinematic crop, hopefully the right people in the right positions will take some serious notes.

All in all, this is absolutely fantastic in so many ways that it demands to be noticed. The acting across the board is highly effective, with Constance Wu and Henry Golding making for an amazing and remarkably grounded on-screen couple, the visuals are among the prettiest and most detailed I’ve ever covered on this blog, and the writing juggles both rather conventional rom-com traits and detailed cultural touchstones to make something quite familiar have both entertainment and aesthetic value. It shows director Jon M. Chu in unprecedented form, tapping into the genre and original novel’s Jane Austen-inspired story elements to show how this film being such a unique specimen today is actually a bit suspicious. I mean, having sat through a lot of rom-coms over the last few years, I only wish that they could show as much finesse as this does. Well, since this film’s sequel is already in the works, with a possible third film following after it, it looks like some big, necessary and ultimately enriching changes are already happening. Quite frankly, I can’t find a single thing here that isn’t worth celebrating.