Producers: Anita Gou, Joe Pirro, Caroline Clark and James Schamus Director: Andrew Ahn Screenplay: Andrew Ahn, James Schamus Cast: Bowen Yang, Lily Gladstone, Kelly Marie Tran, Han Gi-chan, Bobo Le, Camille Atebe, Joan Chen and Youn Yuh-jung Distributor: Bleecker Street
Grade: C
This is a film you’d like to embrace—its heart is certainly in the right place—but despite its good intentions it just isn’t very good. As a remake, moreover, “The Wedding Banquet” invites comparisons to its predecessor, Ang Lee’s cherished film of the same name, and that definitely works to its disadvantage. It lacks the charm and simplicity of the original.
Lee’s 1993 movie was really a watershed, a romantic comedy about gay romance that became a mainstream success. (“Philadelphia,” released later that year, was another groundbreaker.) It followed the traditions of screwball comedy, but a warmhearted vibe infused the story about how, at his roommate’s suggestion, a Taiwanese gay man in Manhattan agrees to marry a poor Chinese girl in order that he can placate his parents back home while helping her secure a green card—leading his parents to travel to America to host a big wedding ceremony that results in surprises galore.
Society has changed over the last thirty-plus years, and so writer-director Andrew Ahn and his collaborator James Schamus (one of the three writers on the original) have updated the scenario substantially, and have elected to complicate it as well, much to its detriment. They add contrivance after contrivance in an effort to keep the plot surprising, but instead the additions just make it cumbersome.
Min (Han Gi-chan) is a Korean artist living in Seattle with his long-time boyfriend Chris (Bowen Yang), a grad student who’s temporarily set his queer studies aside to become a guide for bird-watchers. They reside in the garage apartment of their best friends Asian American Angela (Kelly Marie Tran), a scientific researcher, and Lee (Lily Gladstone), a professional organizer of Native American descent.
Min is being pressured by his grandmother Ja-Young (Youn Yuh-jung) to return to Korea and take over the family corporation; he wants to stay, but his visa will be revoked unless he marries an American citizen. Chris, however, refuses his proposal, both because he fears commitment and because he’s concerned that their marriage would endanger Min’s inheritance. Meanwhile Lee wants desperately to become a mother, but her second IVF attempt has failed, and she and Angela may not be able to afford a third. Speaking of mothers, Angela is reluctant to become one herself, in part because her relationship with her own, May (Joan Chen), was difficult. They’d been estranged when Angela came out, and though May has since become a prominent activist in the LGBTQ+ community, resentments still linger.
Min has an idea to solve all their problems. He proposes a sham marriage to Angela, and in return he’ll pay for a third round of IVF treatments for Lee. All agree, with various degree of enthusiasm or lack thereof, to the idea. But a glitch quickly arises: Ja-Young announces that’s she’s coming to America for the ceremony. There follows an amusing scene the remake shares with the original, as Min tries desperately to clear his place of all gay-related material before she arrives. But she proves far more astute and sensitive than any of them foresee.
There follow lots of complications, most notably a drunken night Chris and Angela, who were best friends in college before either came out, spend together with predictable results. Ruptures occur in relationships, as well as one surprising new friendship. Rest assured, though, that both couples overcome their difficulties by the time the story winds up; the final scene celebrates the enlarged family that results.
The younger members of the ensemble do solid work, though all are to a certain extent hamstrung by weaknesses in the writing that they have to overcome; the ebullient Han comes off best, largely because Min is spared the melodramatic spasms the rest must endure. But they’re outshone by their elders, Youn and Chen, the former through her stiff but grave demeanor and the latter through her determinedly bubbly one. Technically the picture is no better than decent, with ordinary production design (Charlotte Royer) and costumes (Matthew Simonelli), bland cinematography (Ki Jin Kim) and a forgettable score (Jay Wadley). And overall it’s rather flat, due to Ahn’s slack pacing and Geraud Brisson’s bumpy editing.
Lee’s “Banquet” was a delicious feast; Ahn’s is digestible, but just barely.