When I read Kevin Kwan’s “Crazy Rich Asians” trilogy, I absolutely loved it. It was fun, bright, and very entertaining. This would be an incredible series of movies if Hollywood were to pick them up.
I was ecstatic when the news broke that the movie was being made. These wonderful characters would make it on the big screen and I’d see representation. “Joy Luck Club” was the last movie about Asian Americans that resonated with me and it was released in 1993.
I saw the film last night. It was a glorious treat of opulence, fun, and celebration. I was teary-eyed from the opening scene onwards. This was an all Asian ensemble cast. I felt seen. The tropes, the tension between mainland and diaspora identities, and cultural nuances were familiar mirrors. I ate the movie up as if it was a traditional ten course banquet.
Faces that looked like mine were on the big screen and it was a jubilant portrayal. I was in awe of the big stars: Constance Wu, Gemma Chan, and Michelle Yeoh. Kris Aquino’s cameo as Princess Intan also made me scream with joy because of my Filipina background. These were my mirrors, and how they shone bright on the silver screen.
After having watched “To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before” on Netflix the day before, I was satisfied, yet even hungrier than I’d ever been for more Asian-created content.
This was the first time in a very long time when I walked into a movie theatre and realized that yes, dreams could come true for Asian creators.
I want to see the movie again.