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From Cannes to Beyond:
The Future of Asian American Filmmaking
By Maria Iida, Staff Writer
Cannes Film Festival 2004
Forget scream queen Sarah Michelle Gellar in The Grudge. Forget dance
aficionado Richard Gere and J-Lo’s scene-stealing (or scene-occupying)
booty in Shall We Dance? This year, Eastern cinema conquered the world
arena, and it’s not with remakes that they have accomplished such
a feat. It’s time to ditch cheap, commercialized rip-offs and witness
pure gold light up the silver screen.
Cannes Film Festival is the most prestigious film festival in the world;
one that receives the international market with welcoming arms and aesthetic
eyes. And in the 2004 official program, an unprecedented four of the eight
award winners were from East Asia. South Korean film Old Boy directed
by Park Chan Wook won second place, surpassed only by Michael Moore’s
Fahrenheit 9/11; the Thai auteur Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s Tropical
Malady claimed third place; and Chinese veteran actress Maggie Cheung
took home the Best Actress award for her portrayal of a mother battling
with her drug-ridden past to reclaim the custody of her son in Clean.
To say that it was a momentous year for Asian and Asian American communities
is a humble understatement. Cannes 2004 showed that it’s not just
Quentin Tarantino, the jury president of the festival and the notorious
Asiaphile director of Kill-Bill, that’s rejoicing anymore.
Yet the biggest landmark was made at the festival by Yuuya Yagira, a 14
year old actor who took home the Best Actor award for his performance
in the Japanese film Nobody Knows directed by Hirokazu Koreeda. As the
youngest actor to win the award in Cannes history, Yagira’s feat
is symbolic of what can be expected from Eastern cinema for generations
to come.
Cannes was also the place to witness Chinese auteur Zhang Yimou’s
follow up to his crossover hit Hero--which still surges through the theaters
in the U.S. Imbued with decadent colors of hyper-Orientalism and balletic
action sequences, the special premiere of House of Flying Daggers at the
festival was fortuitously marked by a 20-minute standing ovation.
While devout fans may lament Yimou’s departure from his minimalist
roots, the director’s aesthetic focus is still on story. Faced with
the challenge of fusing action with the volatile passions of love, Yimou
invoked the help of stars and crews from mainland China, Hong Kong and
Japan— including actors Zhang Ziyi, Andy Lau, and Takeshi Kaneshiro.
The pan-Asian ensemble represents how Eastern films are now able to assemble
a team that rivals the star-studded casts of Hollywood.
The Home Front
Just as professional filmmakers pave the way for further possibilities
for Asian and Asian American films, future generations are also brewing
up their own storms that will someday take over the world in style. NYU’s
own Tisch School of the Arts is a premier training ground for the international
filmmakers, and to them the current successes of Eastern film is a source
of both inspiration and challenge.
“First and foremost, I want to make movies that are entertaining,
but in a higher level of intellectuality,” said Dennis Liu, a third-year
Film and Television Production and Asian Pacific American Studies major.
“I like films that are witty and contribute to social change, but
I also hope to express them through an artistic medium such as form and
color.”
“I want to tell stories,” said Jonathan Hsu, a third-year
Cinema Studies and Film and Television Production major. “It’s
very simple but that’s basically what film is to me; a medium through
which I can show others, in my own way, a way of looking at life and more
specifically a way to offer hope and faith.”
For these students, what the professional Asian American filmmakers bring
to the Hollywood table can be decisive for their future careers. In the
works of professionals they see the psyches of both other Asian American
filmmakers as well as their own—where they can place themselves
in the creative spectrum and how they can begin to contribute in the succeeding
years.
“I think it’s fabulous that Asian American films are making
such a great impact on media today,” Nicole Iizuka, a third-year
Film and Television major said. “Even though movies such as Better
Luck Tomorrow and Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle fuel traditional
stereotypes of Asians, I also think they poke fun at the ideas of stereotypes
and help break them down.”
Hsu however, admitted to the underlying pressure that comes with the media’s
enthused focus on all things Asian, and the sense of expectancy that such
acclaim cultivates.
“When I see Asians or Asian Americans internationally recognized
for their achievements in the arts, I at once take pride in the motherland,”
he said. “But at the same time I feel pressured that I have to give
back to that community.”
No matter how Eastern cinema fare in the international market, both Hsu
and Iizuka were aware that their history and identity as Asian Americans
always seep out in their creative processes.
“I didn’t think it would, having grown up in a predominantly
white Jewish neighborhood,” Iizuka said. “However, once I
moved to New York, I found that both being a woman and Asian had great
benefits in terms of fundraising and storytelling. I realized for the
first time that I had stories that were both unique and needed to be expressed.”
The stories Iizuka talked of are ones enriched by her personal understanding
of her history and her family’s immigration. Hsu also spoke of the
unique perspective that he wrought within his first generation Chinese
family. He said his parents instilled in him the traditional, conservative
values of an Asian household, while at the same time allowing him the
liberty of finding things out on his own in an unsheltered world.
Liu however, pointed out that the very attempt of making “Asian”
films is just another way of pigeonholing themselves. His definition of
Asian or Asian American films are simply films with a mainstream plot
starring actors, directors, producers and others of Asian ethnicity.
While there may be plenty of stories that Asian American filmmakers can
unfold, it is evident that the vault of ethnicity and Eastern culture
cannot be relied on indefinitely. Versatility is the surest defense against
the loss of creative freedom for Asian American filmmakers, and the students
interviewed all seemed to be aware of it.
When asked which Asian or Asian American filmmaker they respect the most,
indeed all three students were united in their answers. The fact that
the world-acclaimed Asian director Ang Lee is an NYU alumnus is not the
only reason these students look towards him for inspiration.
“He must be one of the most versatile directors out there. [He is
capable of directing anything] from Western to Victorian to Action to
family drama to wuxia; to have that kind of versatility is phenomenal,”
Liu said.
Despite the current successes of Eastern films, these future filmmakers
are also aware that it is easy to be lured into the recurring, predictable
“Asian American” genres—wuxia, racial barriers, culture,
immigration and so on. The successes at Cannes were substantial because
the Eastern films that walked away with coveted prizes delineated issues
that are creative, humane and most importantly, fresh. Versatile talents
from the East are making steadfast headways, and these students are up
for the task of carrying on the diversifying efforts in the world that
is still prone to remember Asians in terms of kung fu flicks.
“My firm belief is that it is talent that takes you far. I like
to believe that it is merit-based in cinema,” Liu said. “It
is all about the quality and race, who does it or where it comes from
is not an issue.”
At the time when the film world increasingly turns toward the East for
fresh creativity and talent, the venerable medium for the next generation
of Asian American filmmakers exists in a place where their roots do not
become a reason for seclusion, but liberty for forming a distinguished,
strong character.
“The obvious challenge is being stereotyped as an “Asian American”
filmmaker,” Iizuka said. “And the ultimate goal is to make
a name for myself, not based on my ethnicity or gender, yet at the same
time let those factors influence my decisions.”
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