The Joy Luck Club Film Review

The blogger otherwise known as the Scientist Gone Wordy and I rejoin for another movie title that began its life between a book cover for our parallel post series¹. Luckily, we’ve reached this point, the end of the dreaded month of March (it and I don’t like each other much), the first quarter of 2016 and winter, none worse for wear. Well, at least for some of us in the northern hemisphere. Once more, we’ll examine the first novel of a noted author that launched a literary career, and so typical for we Americans.

Amy Tan was born in the United States in 1952, a few years after her parents immigrated from China. Like all second generation children, she had to come to terms with what it means to be both American, and, in this case, Chinese. Reaching her true calling as a writer, instead of the career pianist or doctor her parents desired, she published her first short story in ’86. Three years later she released her first book to wide acclaim, a collection of short stories called The Joy Luck Club, “…which the critics reviewed as a novel.”

Credit my blogging partner for suggesting another involving tale relating the foreign lands and culture of those of our fellow countrymen who share its immigrant history. Ms. Tan’s own family serving as a source for the stories of mothers and daughters both unique and prevalent among those living in the U.S. Rachel will peruse the national best seller while I review the 1993 adaptation to film by Wayne Wang. Get your tissues ready, just sayin’. The wordy one’s book review can be found here:

The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan

A brief synopsis of the film: June, the daughter of Suyuan, has been invited to join the regular mahjong² foursome made up of her recently deceased mother’s closest friends. The female fountainheads of four immigrant Chinese families who survived unspeakable hardship to reach these shores. Forming what they call the “Joy Luck Club” to meet, eat dim sum, and play the traditional Chinese game of tiles and strategy. And talk about their hopes.

Their pain-filled stories a source of mystery and ultimately insight for each of their American-born daughters learning to cope with their lives here. Along with the heritage their mothers seek to pass on, the normal rivalry of cultures and friends always just below the surface. Not to mention the customary and at times monumental, binds of living as mothers and daughters. Their individual tales the basis of their histories and relationships in the film.

[spoiler warning: some key elements of the film could be revealed in this review]

“This one moment would decide for my whole life whether fear would rule or I would. I decided. Underneath I knew who I was. I promised myself never to forget.“

Interesting to return to The Joy Luck Club for only my second viewing, and first time with its source. Daresay it went beyond the familiar, my TV and movie-filled childhood always at hand. I’ve Bruce Lee to thank for that. Sure, like near anyone else my age here, I was exposed to the far-flung land of China through the popular arts. None so engaging as Lee did with the martial arts via TV’s Green Hornet in my formative years, which spurred a fascination for all things Chinese as a youth³.

So, even if this story had nary a fist thrown or round-house kick planted (with Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s Melinda May [Ming-Na Wen] depicting daughter June), it seemed as comfortable as all those Asian films viewed since then.

I’d have to agree with Roger Ebert’s assessment some twenty-odd years ago that, ““The Joy Luck Club” comes rushing off the screen in a torrent of memories, as if its characters have been saving their stories for years, waiting for the right moment to share them.” My own mother’s tendency relating family stories to her sons registered with me as a child. So much so, Wayne Wang‘s distillation, with Ms. Tan’s and Ronald Bass screenwriting assistance, seemed a natural connection. Even with my Run Run Shaw years⁴.

The basis of The Joy Luck Club universal, yet so distinct given its rich cast and the rare case a major movie studio gave a platform to tell their own story⁵. Scarcer when a tale matches up a wonderfully packed narrative, one broaching the cultural, social, and historic so typical of migrant tales, let alone being primarily and thoroughly Asian. One that Hollywood notoriously either overlooked or tacitly stereotyped into background or villain roles, and blithely portrayed for years of mass American consumption.

Really amazing to see something like this make it to the big screen. No doubt helped by the success of Amy Tan’s novel, aided by executive producer Oliver Stone (at the height of his movie-making clout in the ’90s) and brought to western audiences⁶. Yes, it’s another multi-generational account, but without the likes of Mario Puzo’s Silician gangster, or Stone’s more notorious⁷. Offering extensive flashbacks to life in China that still impact the transplanted in this country, and the complex relationships we all take for granted.

Throwing a light on what has been portrayed for the longest as “exotic and mysterious” to many in America; revealing perhaps something more remarkable…what we all have in common: family, in all its flavors.

The Joy Luck Club had a exceptional cast to tell the tale of four mothers and their now adult “Americanized” daughters. And I say that because it was filled by Asian performers most TV and movie viewers of the last few years have seen at one time or another, but can’t put a name to. Across many programs and feature films — only rarely given a chance to shine, even today. Tsai Chin (Casino Royale), France Nuyen (St. Elsewhere), Lisa Lu (The Last Emperor), and Kieu Chinh (China Beach) evoking the tale’s wellsprings.

Ming-Na Wen, Tamlyn Tomita (The Karate Kid Part II), Lauren Tom (Futurama), and Rosalind Chao (Star Trek: TNG) characterizing and accepting the exceptional histories of their frustrated moms. Add to this the charismatic Chao Li Chi (The Prestige), the great Victor Wong (The Prince of Darkness, Big Trouble in Little China), and villainous turns by Michael Paul Chan (The Closer) and Russell Wong (Vanishing Son), and others too many to mention, you can see why a troupe and film like this stood out.

Of course, given I’m Y-chromosome-challenged, retaining the many relationships on paper and in my head via the novel’s multiple vignettes and flashbacks, made it a tad difficult. Yet on film, my familiarity with this company of actors portraying the book’s roles, and that each first-person voiceover was now tied as an offshoot to June’s meeting her long-lost sisters, I thought Wayne Wang’s translation of the backstories to celluloid the better treatment.

There’s no lack of heartbreaking moments in the film or uplift in its presentation. Just goes to show that no one can read your mind…’cept your mother. And yes, the pull of relationship and melodrama, in the context of suffering and sacrifice, with a largely female cast, is usually more closely enjoyed with those of the opposite sex. Yet, I’m as guilty as the next guy…girl…whatever…in the warmth of its glow when I actually give something like this a chance. There, I said it.

“In America, I will have a daughter just like me. But over there, nobody will say her worth is measured by the loudness of her husband’s belch. Over there, nobody will look down on her because I will make her speak only perfect American English. And over there, she will always be too full to swallow any sorrow.”

When my dear spouse asked what tandem Rachel and I were reviewing this month, she gave me a quizzical look upon learning it was The Joy Luck Club. “Not your usual type of film or book.”, she said. At first, baffled, I tilted my head accordingly. Right and wrong, I thought in reaction. Sci-fi, horror, and action-thrillers have taken up most of my reading and watching time through the decades. But, what then explains my When Harry Met Sally, The Notebook, or Boys On The Side episodes, I now wondered.

Perchance the fact I’m living with a mother (my wife) and daughter in the same house as I write this, periodically refereeing their occasional clashes (and realizations), is partly an explanation. Possibly, that the film is loaded with heart, filled with a sense of life and understanding, and still remains entertaining, also has something to do with it. Maybe, just maybe, it comes down to what this third-generation Mexican-American can relate to, and Amy Tan’s story, by way of film, certainly did that. Pass the Kleenex while you’re at it.

Parallel Post Series

• Like Water For Chocolate
• Edge of Tomorrow
• – 2015 posts
• – 2014 posts
• – 2013 posts
• – 2012 posts
• – 2011 posts
• – 2010 posts