You kind of look like a slutty Ebola virus.

Crazy Rich Asians

(2018)

(SPOILERS) The phenomenal success of Crazy Rich Asians – in the US at any rate, thus far – might lead one to think it's some kind of startling original, but the truth is, whatever its core demographic appeal, this adaptation of Kevin Kwan's novel taps into universally accepted romantic comedy DNA and readily recognisable tropes of family and class, regardless of cultural background. It emerges a smoothly professional product, ticking the expected boxes in those areas – the heroine's highs, lows, rejections, proposals, accompanied by whacky scene-stealing best friend – even if the writing is sometimes a little on the clunky side.

Rachel (Constance Wu, entirely appealing) isn't far at all from the Pretty Woman or Cinderella persona – excepting her being a successful NYU economics professor rather than a hooker or doormat, although her classes are equally fantasy land, bearing more resemblance to Now You See Me than anything actually higher educational – right down to riches-not-being-intrinsic-to-her-happiness-but-very-nice-all-the-same-thank-you when they come attached to a Prince Charming.

Unfortunately, the Princess Charming in question is probably the movie's biggest stumble. There's a gushingly romantic airplane proposal at the end – in Economy, naturally – during which he must bumble by passengers and profess his bottomless love. You can tell it's been designed for an Asian Hugh Grant, but Henry Golding's Nick is closer to the charisma-free rigidity of a Richard Gere (I see he's an ongoing presenter of The Travel Show for the Beeb, which kind of makes sense).

Nick's family are uber-rich, even by the standards of Singapore's uber-rich, which comes as a shock to Rachel, since he's been reticent about his background. She's as innocent in motive as they come, of course, which means being accused of gold-digging is an affront. Particularly callous accusations come from former girlfriends and hangers-on, but worst is Nick's formidable mother (Michelle Yeoh, on fine form, a relief after her pure wood showing in Star Trek: Discovery), repeatedly making it clear that Rachel isn’t good enough for her son. Inevitably, by the end of the movie she isn't exactly approving, but sufficiently accepting (and all thanks to game theory and a Mahjong match – no one overdoses on the tiles, fortunately – proof that in movies, one can apply one's degree to every aspect of one's life to remarkable effect).

As ever with such fare (see Rupert Everett in My Best Friend's Wedding, Charlotte Coleman in Four Weddings and a Funeral), it's a requirement for the eccentric best pal to steal the proceedings. I know I'm not the first to compare Awkwafina's Peik Lin Goh to Joan Rivers – I suspect every review has – but it undoubtedly bears repeating, as she throws off quip after quip with throaty gusto ("Chinese sons think their moms fart Chanel No. 5"). Awkwafina managed to make her presence felt in the crowded and mostly superfluous Ocean's Eight early in the summer, but here her only competition for attention is Nicos Santos' magnificently camp Oliver ("Your skin is so dry, it's hurting my face"); rather than vie, they bounce of each other in their scenes together.

Elsewhere, Ken Jeong is typically, excruciatingly OTT as Peik Lin's father, while others making an impression include Gemma Chan as Nick's gorgeous but cheated-on cousin and Ronny Chieng as another cousin with idiosyncratic attitudes towards raising and showing off his children (particularly when it comes to family portraits).

I mentioned Now You See Me, and I wonder if it's a coincidence that Jon M Chu directed the sequel to that film (along with G.I. Joe: Retaliation). He brings bags of confidence and visual panache to the table, and amongst the sumptuous (and decadent) locations, a glorious facility for tastelessness (to the extent I'm unsure if the massively expensive wedding is intended to just be repellently tacky or also kind of quite cool; "Is this a church? Or a paddy field?").

He commandeers a very witty opening sequence, in which Rachel and Nick’s presence in a public eatery – as they discuss going to his friend's wedding – finds their photos circulated via texting at express speed, finally reaching Yeoh, hitherto oblivious of Nick's girlfriend, who calls her son before they have even finished their cake (if only the Now You See Mes had an ounce of such explicability with regard to their magical feats). Another nice touch is Mandarin versions of English-language songs (Material Girl, Money (That's What I Want), Yellow, Can't Help Falling in Love), drawing attention to cross-cultural pollination, even as positions of class and heritage among the elites remain entrenched.

Inevitably, Crazy Rich Asians revels in affluence and superficiality while pronouncing that it isn't everything, since that tends to be par for the course with such fare (you can't really be a Disney princess without it: even for Shrek's DreamWorks one) and if the screenplay from Peter Chairelli (bloody Now You See Me 2 again) and Adele Lim is light on its feet in that area, it occasionally grinds its gears as it over-verbalises and over-explains what-I-am-feeling-right-now. Chu meanwhile, despite his zinging, energised approach, can't prevent the proceedings from dragging in places (perhaps a symptom of the writers straying from bouncing back and forth between the "serious" romantic plotlines and the crazy comedic asides).

The picture has offered further proof that Hollywood knows nothing about hit-making (it was financed independently but has been distributed by Warner Bros – Netflix's bid was rejected, which should probably be a lesson to anyone thinking going to them is a safe option; it may be, but it can also mean a very limited profile; see The Guernsey Potato Peel Society). As the first all-Asian American movie since The Joy Luck Club, no doubt the intervening quarter-century was littered with screenplays rejected by the gatekeepers on the basis they'd do no business. Of course, naysayers might argue its success is mainly attributable to following such a recognisable romcom template, but since when has that been bulletproof?

I tend to think the ultimate test of the romcom isn't so much how side-splitting it is as how invested you are in the characters – it's why Pretty Woman falls down for me, on both lead fronts, and why anything with Andie McDowell on one side of the equation comes up short (Four Weddings is fortunate that everything else is a winner). In that regard, Crazy Rich Asians gets it half right, which means, unless the sequel shifts focus, it will probably only be getting it half right again next time.

Agree? Disagree? Mildly or vehemently? Let me know in the comments below.

Comments

You know, I think you may have the delusion you’re still a police officer.

Heaven’s Prisoners (1996) (SPOILERS) At the time, it seemed Alec Baldwin was struggling desperately to find suitable star vehicles, and the public were having none of it. Such that, come 1997, he was playing second fiddle to Anthony Hopkins and Bruce Willis, and in no time at all had segued to the beefy supporting player we now know so well from numerous indistinguishable roles. That, and inane SNL appearances. But there was a window, post- being replaced by Harrison Ford as Jack Ryan, when he still had sufficient cachet to secure a series of bids for bona fide leading man status. Heaven’s Prisoners is the final such and probably the most interesting, even if it’s somewhat hobbled by having too much, rather than too little, story.

They wanted me back for a reason. I need to find out why.

Zack Snyder’s Justice League (2021) (SPOILERS) I wasn’t completely down on Joss Whedon’s Justice League (I had to check to remind myself Snyder retained the director credit), which may be partly why I’m not completely high on Zack Snyder’s. This gargantuan four-hour re-envisioning of Snyder’s original vision is aesthetically of a piece, which means its mercifully absent the jarring clash of Whedon’s sensibility with the Snyderverse’s grimdark. But it also means it doubles down on much that makes Snyder such an acquired taste, particularly when he has story input. The positive here is that Zack Snyder’s Justice League has the luxury of telling the undiluted, uncondensed story Snyder wanted to tell. The negative here is also that Zack Snyder’s Justice League has the luxury of telling the undiluted, uncondensed story Snyder wanted to tell (with some extra sprinkles on top). This is not a Watchmen , where the unexpurgated version was for the most part a feast.

Well, it must be terribly secret, because I wasn't even aware I was a member.

The Brotherhood of the Bell (1970) (SPOILERS) No, not Joseph P Farrell’s book about the Nazi secret weapons project, but rather a first-rate TV movie in the secret-society ilk of later flicks The Skulls and The Star Chamber . Only less flashy and more cogent. Glenn Ford’s professor discovers the club he joined 22 years earlier is altogether more hardcore than he could have ever imagined – not some student lark – when they call on the services he pledged. David Karp’s adaptation of his novel, The Brotherhood of the Bell is so smart in its twists and turns of plausible deniability, you’d almost believe he had insider knowledge.

Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody loves a tax inspector. They’re beyond the pale!

Too Many Crooks (1959) (SPOILERS) The sixth of seven collaborations between producer-director Mario Zampi and writer Michael Pertwee, Too Many Crooks scores with a premise later utilised to big box-office effect in Ruthless People (1986). A gang of inept thieves kidnap the wife of absolute cad and bounder Billy Gordon (Terry-Thomas). Unfortunately for them, Gordon, being an absolute cad and bounder, sees it as a golden opportunity, rather enjoying his extra-marital carry ons and keeping all his cash from her, so he refuses to pay up. At which point Lucy Gordon (Brenda De Banzie) takes charge of the criminal crew and turns the tables.

Oh, I love funny exiting lines.

Alfred Hitchcock Ranked: 26-1 The master's top tier ranked from worst to best. You can find 52-27 here .

Now all we’ve got to do is die.

Without Remorse (2021) (SPOILERS) Without Remorse is an apt description of the unapologetic manner in which Amazon/Paramount have perpetrated this crime upon any audiences foolish enough to think there was any juice left in the Tom Clancy engine. There certainly shouldn’t have been, not after every attempt was made to run it dry in The Sum of All Our Fears and then the stupidly titled Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit . A solo movie of sometime Ryan chum John Clark’s exploits has been mooted awhile now, and two more inimitable incarnations were previously encountered in the forms of Willem Dafoe and Liev Schreiber. Like Chris Pine in Shadow Recruit , however, diminishing returns find Michael B Jordan receiving the short straw and lead one to the conclusion that, if Jordan is indeed a “star”, he’s having a hell of a job proving it.

I don't think this is the lightning you're looking for.

Meet Joe Black (1998) (SPOILERS) A much-maligned Brad Pitt fest, commonly accused of being interminable, ponderous, self-important and ridiculous. All of those charges may be valid, to a greater or lesser extent, but Meet Joe Black also manages to attain a certain splendour, in spite of its more wayward impulses. While it’s suggestive of a filmmaker – Martin Brest – believing his own hype after the awards success of (the middling) Scent of a Woman , this is a case where all that sumptuous better-half styling and fantasy lifestyle does succeed in achieving a degree of resonance. An undeniably indulgent movie, it’s one I’ve always had a soft spot for.

When I barked, I was enormous.

Dean Spanley (2008) (SPOILERS) There is such a profusion of average, respectable – but immaculately made – British period drama held up for instant adulation, it’s hardly surprising that, when something truly worthy of acclaim comes along, it should be singularly ignored. To be fair, Dean Spanley was well liked by critics upon its release, but its subsequent impact has proved disappointingly slight. Based on Lord Dunsany’s 1939 novella, My Talks with Dean Spanley , our narrator relates how the titular Dean’s imbibification of a moderate quantity of Imperial Tokay (“ too syrupy ”, is the conclusion reached by both members of the Fisk family regarding this Hungarian wine) precludes his recollection of a past life as a dog. Inevitably, reviews pounced on the chance to reference Dean Spanley as a literal shaggy dog story, so I shall get that out of the way now. While the phrase is more than fitting, it serves to underrepresent how affecting the picture is when it has c

What do you want me to do? Call America and tell them I changed my mind?

Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021) (SPOILERS) The demolition – at very least as a ratings/box office powerhouse – of the superhero genre now appears to be taking effect. If so, Martin Scorsese will at least be pleased. The studios that count – Disney and Warner Bros – are all aboard the woke train, such that past yardsticks like focus groups are spurned in favour of the forward momentum of agendas from above (so falling in step with the broader media initiative). The most obvious, some might say banal, evidence of this is the repurposing of established characters in race or gender terms.

I always think of my murderers as my heroes.

Alfred Hitchcock Ranked: 52-27 The all-time most renowned director? It’s probably a toss-up with the Beard, although really, the latter’s nothing but a small-fry pretender who went off the boil quite early on. Hitch’s zenith may vary according to your tastes – anywhere from the mid-1930s to about 1960 makes for an entirely reasonable pick – but he offers so much choice, there’s more than likely something for everyone in there. The following, since I’m relatively youthful and/or don’t have a top-secret archive of rare and lost features, does not include his second film, 1926’s The Mountain Eagle , but everything else finds a placing. With the majority of the silent era, I was discovering them for the first time, and I’m unable to report there were any revelations during that period of his finding his feet and stylistic personality. Surprises elsewhere? I dare say there are a few, albeit more so for those I don’t rate highly than those I do. So sit back, enjoy, and maybe have a glass o

Now In Full Color, with a Happier Ending

Search This Blog