Movie Review: Riceboy Sleeps
8/10. Excellent. Because it was Canadian and it was AAPI heritage month.
The indie machine keeps on churning out hit after hit, particularly the Canadian indie machine. I view the 2023 film Riceboy Sleeps as a spiritual successor to the 1994 film, Double Happiness, both sponsored by various governmental arts agencies, and about Asian Canadians. First of all, independent filmmaking has come a long way. Mina Shum did a great job with the lower production value of the film, and embracing the kitsch and but Anthony Shim had to do no such thing, shooting a beautiful art film complete with the characteristic lighting, music, pace, and long takes of modern ‘cinema’. Nearly thirty years later, Canada has produced another great Asian American film.
Riceboy Sleeps can be divided into three sections. Part one consists of single mother So-young raising her child David in a Canadian suburb. She has a rough time in her blue-collar workplace, and he is bullied at school. Part two consists of So-young adapting now to her new home, and a teenage David who usually gets along with his peers. Part three consists of a the two of them returning to Korea to explore their roots. There are many long shots with slow zooms, naturalistic dialogue without cuts, and moody, dimly lit shots: perfectly reflecting the Vancouverite climate. The acting is well-done, not too subtle and certainly not over the top. I’m always impressed once again, at how believable child actors can be.
The most admirable character is So-Young, a single immigrant mother who stands up not only for her son, but for herself. She defends her son’s decision to punch other children after they’ve made fun of him and took his glasses, against the principle who has chosen to suspend David, in a courageous lecture made all the more impressive by clear lack of English ability. At work, she is groped by a male colleague, and after getting over the initial shock, walks back over to him and threatens to kill him if he tries it again. The choice to characterize her as courageous when the situation demands it and firm, unlike the demure way that Asian women are traditionally depicted in the west was an interesting choice.
Though So-Young was a portrayal that I was happy with, it wasn’t the most believable in the movie; not that my mother wasn’t a strong confident woman whom I admired, but David’s characterization as a sullen, aimless, teenager was both rage-inducing and a reflection of reality. His desire to fit in, yet be true to who he is results in a petulance that can be mistaken for a brooding cool at first glance. He takes out problems he experiences at school at home, and vice versa. He flirts with underage drinking and marijuana use. He’s a problem child just adding to his mother’s already huge burdens, and seeing parts of myself in him made me feel guilty.
There were some cliches I wasn’t particularly fond of, chiefly among them the lunchbox moment. Riceboy Sleeps is too good of a film to rely on a lunchbox moment to establish characterization and show bullying. Yes, the Asian kid had his lunch made fun of. Yes, food is shown to be an important part of roots and bonding throughout the movie, which ties it together better than most, but I really thought we had moved past the lunchbox moment.
I have also mentioned in the past that I’m not a fan of “return to Asia” moments in Asian American stories. It’s generally an important aspect of any Asian American’s self-identification journey to return to Asia twice: first to be enamoured with it and claim it as their birthright, then to find that they no longer truly belong in Asia anymore. Riceboy Sleeps does a good job of avoiding that dichotomy, focusing on family when So-young and David go back to Korea, and does not conflate Asian-Asian with AsianAmerican.
The last cliché was the long-winded metaphorical story, and it is So-Young who delivers this story to her suitor, Simon. I’m still not sure as to what the point of her story about a dying mother still continuing to look after her son is: a warning for her suitor that she was dying, and part of her willingness to get married was to secure financial stability for David? Or that simply David would always be her priority?
There was one other quirk of note as well. In Korea, So-Young scolds David for not holding his glass out with two hands as an elder pours him a drink, which would seem to indicate that he knows nothing of Korean drinking customs. But, in the same shot, he is also shown pouring the elder’s drink the right way, with a hand covering the label, and drinking it the right way as well, by turning away from the table. At an earlier party scene, he is seen sipping vodka out of a shot glass. Who has been David drinking with? Who taught him to drink the Korean way, and what teenager sips vodka?
Lastly, I would like to comment on a trend that I’ve noted among Asian-American media of late, where I see mainly Chinese American stories being supplanted by Korean-American ones. Going from Koreans playing Chinese in Double Happiness to Chinese playing Koreans in Kim’s Convenience. Although I’m of Chinese descent, this anecdotal shift, whether actually occurring or not, doesn’t bother me all that much: Korean pop culture is certainly bigger than China’s and Asian American stories are Asian American stories. However, I hope that the shift isn’t happening because of China’s worsening political relationship with the West. That would have bearing on all Asian Americans. Does anyone think a racist would be able to tell the difference between two Asians?
Riceboy Sleeps premiered at TIFF last year, winning accolades there, as well as from Toronto and Vancouver film critic committees. It is a touching Asian American story, elegantly told using cutting edge filmmaking styles of today. Though I had a few nits to pick, it was nearly a perfect film: it knew the simple story it wanted to tell and the feeling it wanted to convey. I am glad that Canada adds another piece to the Asian American canon.
