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By Ada Tseng and Brian Hu

APA recaps the year in Asian American cinema with its third annual top ten.

1. The Fall

dir: Tarsem

Where do you find the great Asian American films? In 2006, we found them in the Asian American festival circuit. These were debut features by up-and-coming filmmakers like Ham Tran, Richard Wong, and Julia Kwan. In 2007, we found them elsewhere: in prestige festivals like Cannes and Berlin (Lee Isaac Chung's Munyurangabo), on premium cable (Steven Okazaki's White Light / Black Rain), or in art house theaters (Mira Nair's The Namesake).

But in 2008, we looked in the usual places but left a little dissatisfied. The Asian American film festival circuit still breeds promising talents (some of whom are mentioned in our top 10 list), but none of the films neared the electricity of the 2006 crop. And the art houses and international film festivals didn't deliver new Gregg Araki or Mira Nair as it did last year. Instead, we found some favorites in strange places. One of the films tied for #2 on our list premiered "commercially" on YouTube. Our #3 film hasn't played many major festivals -- international or Asian American -- though we were lucky to catch it at Los Angeles's VC Film Festival, where it won several prizes. The relative dearth of great Asian American films has had us searching in alternative spaces, though even that didn't yield the standout we were looking for.

But maybe the problem wasn't in what spaces to look for Asian American cinema, but rather in what spaces constituted Asian American cinema. We were looking for films set in Chinatowns, in the internment camps, in Queens, in the Peninsula, in San Gabriel Valley. We were looking for films set in high schools, in universities, in restaurants, in motels, in corporate offices, in rice rockets. We were looking for films by directors who have Asian-sounding last names.

And then we recalled a film that came out in May, a film that went against everything we'd been searching for, a film that seems to resist all categorization -- ethnic, national, or aesthetic. Of course we'd overlooked it. The director doesn't even use a last name.

Where do you find the great Asian American film in 2008? In the Andaman Islands of the South Pacific, at the Charles Bridge in the Czech Republic, in a shimmering blue city in northern India, in 1920s Hollywood, in the wild imagination of a little girl. Tarsem's The Fall is a nomadic film, as many Asian American films are, but its nomadism is unencumbered by the confines of realism. The Fall is rather the nomadism of the creative mind, stretched to unprecedented distances. It knows no geographic boundaries, only those at the edges of one's imagination. It knows no color scheme but its own. Many have called this high-flying artistry indulgence. But as The Fall demonstrates over and over, especially in its tender final moments, unbounded creativity for creativity's sake isn't just indulgence, it's the basis of Hollywood cinema itself. Despite what its critics have claimed, The Fall isn't about Tarsem, it's about the magic of film.

In a brisk two hours, The Fall covers the history of cinema: from silent comedy to the swashbucklers to David Lean to the 1981 Bulgarian film it's roughly based on. It's a little Brothers Quay, a little National Geographic; a little Matthew Barney, a little Disney. Tarsem has claimed that The Fall doesn't use a single computer-generated effect, which is no doubt boastful, but also a reminder of what cinema can be and what it once was. And throughout, your senses will be ignited. Say what you will about The Fall and its director, one thing's for sure: you won't be able to pry your eyes away.

2. A Thousand Years of Good Prayers / Princess of Nebraska

dir: Wayne Wang

Both adapted from short stories by Yiyun Li, Wayne Wang's Thousand Years of Good Prayers and Princess of Nebraska take their time to unfold, just as it takes time to get used to a foreign country, to rebuild relationships, and to come to terms with less-than-ideal situations. These films take joy in the subtle, humble, and experimental. While Thousand Years of Good Prayers tells the story of an older generation -- an elderly man from Beijing comes to America to visit his recently-divorced daughter -- Princess of Nebraska paints a quietly scattered portrait of Chinese youth, as we follow a pregnant teenager looking for the father of her child. Both films deal with the idea of human connection -- losing it, finding, it, and wondering if it exists at all.

3. Ocean of Pearls

dir: Sarab Neelam

The filmmakers of Ocean of Pearls have called it the first ever Sikh American film, and while it's hard to verify that claim, the film has plenty of identity politicking to announce the arrival of a community's voice. But that's not what makes Ocean of Pearls shine. Two moments in the film stick out. One is of protagonist Amrit Singh taking off his turban, step by step. The scene's poignancy comes from the delicateness of Singh's every move, as well as the intense presentation of a man baring himself to us, asking that we literally see what is inside of something so fraught with misunderstanding in Western culture. The second scene is of Singh washing his hands before performing surgery. For all of the medical dramas in recent popular culture, never before has there been one with such precision and thoroughness -- not a crevice or fingernail goes uncleaned. The two scenes exemplify what is so fresh about Ocean of Pearls: it has a realism all its own. It's a surprise to nobody that director Sarab Neelam is in fact a Sikh Canadian doctor. The true shock is that Ocean of Pearls is his first feature, for its domestic and romantic melodrama feels true and never sensational, while its passion to reveal social injustice is never didactic.

4. Ping Pong Playa

dir: Jessica Yu

You know a C-Dub Wang. You may be related to a C-Dub Wang. You may even be a C-Dub Wang. Which makes watching Jimmy Tsai's awkwardly jive-talking, straight-thugging chigga that much more uncomfortable. But what could, or even should, be the year's most obnoxious performance becomes one of the most endearing. Partly it's because director Jessica Yu knows never to take the character too seriously, partly it's because (as I'm told) Jimmy Tsai does a great job playing a version of himself. But mostly it's because though we shake our heads at all of C-Dub's cold disses and party fouls, we kind of want to be him because he has so much fun being Asian American his own way: showing love for Yao Ming, refusing to wear short-shorts, acting uncomfortable around cute Asian American Studies majors. Some of it is predictable (fighting for one's family honor, for instance), but when it's fresh, Ping Pong Playa is in a world of its own, zanily carving out the 21st century Asian American comedy. Booyah!

5. The Happening

dir: M. Night Shyamalan

As he did with Signs, M. Night Shyamalan makes The Happening a compelling thriller about fear in the face of the unknown. And once again, the 9/11 resonances are strong. For all of the technical and journalistic detail of Paul Greengrass and Oliver Stone's 9/11 films, they didn't capture what the day was like for most Americans outside of Manhattan and Arlington. The Happening is about knowing of a catastrophe in progress, but not knowing the whys, the hows, the wheres, and most frighteningly, the what-nexts. There's something loony about Mark Wahlberg's alternating confidence and cluelessness, but it makes sense in the context of fear -- much more sense than most Hollywood thrillers about steadfast heroes and victims in need of help. As usual, Shyamalan uses long takes and awkward framings to make us sweat, but it's the emphasis on families struggling to survive that gives the style its emotional meat.

6. Amal

dir: Richie Mehta

It began as a short film by the same name, but by 2008, director Richie Mehta had recruited a cast of veteran actors (Naseeruddin Shah, Roshan Seth, and Seema Biswas) to help turn his fable of a humble auto-rickshaw driver into a full-length feature. Amal (Rupinder Nagra) picks up a cantankerous old man (Shah) who we later find out is a dying millionaire so touched by Amal's unselfish integrity that he leaves his entire estate to him. A film ultimately about class and perceptions of wealth, Amal cuts back and forth between the passivity of Amal's day-to-day job, only heightened by concerns over a sick beggar girl and the frenzy that has been created between the old man's upper-caste children and friends, who are determined to get their share of the inheritance.

7. Loins of Punjab Presents

dir: Manish Acharya

Loins of Punjab Presents is pure fun, enhanced by the challenge of predicting which contestant the filmmakers are going to let win their fictional New Jersey Desi Idol singing contest. Sponsored by a pork-loin company, Desi Idol attracts its share of competitive characters. Legendary Indian actress Shabana Azmi plays the obvious choice to win -- a scheming philanthropist, confident she'll be the hero at her next function when she wins the crown and helps poor street children. There's the shy teenager Pretti who has been escorted by her entire extended family, all wearing "Preeti Patel is Number One" shirts. There's an aspiring Indian American actress who pretends to have an accent, hoping she'll have a shot in Bollywood. There's Turbanotorious, a bhangra rapper who's out to revolutionize people's perceptions of Hindi music. There's the white guy, whose watery blue eyes are so achingly earnest when he waxes poetic about his dream business: "joga," a combination of jogging and yoga. And there's Vikram (played by director Manish Acharya himself), a businessman whose job has been outsourced and has nothing left to lose. There is commentary about identity politics interspersed throughout, but for the most part, the audience is too distracted by punch lines and beat-boxing ridiculousness to notice.

8. Santa Mesa

dir: Ron Morales

As an Asian American film, Santa Mesa is interesting because it deals with a Filipino American 12-year-old, whose life is suddenly uprooted when his mother passes away. He goes to live with his grandmother in the Philippines, and suddenly the culture gaps between Asian and Asian American are on full display. Add on that he's in the most awkward period of adolescence, he's living in a Manila slum, he doesn't speak a lick of Tagalog, and it's clear why Hector (played by Jacob Kiron Shalov) has some initial difficulty blending in. The film introduces a friendship with the gruff Hector, who may or may not turn out to be the parental figure he's been looking for. The film is strongest in its quieter moments, as the audience explores its surroundings with the protagonist, sharing in his hope that an outsider's encouragement is just what people need to mend wounds in their personal lives.

9. Always Be Boyz

dir: John Kwon

Always Be Boyz has soul. The characters are romantics passionate about life and dance. The street-slick sets exude cosmopolitan cool while the dizzy cinematography drops us into the whiplash of their lives in medias res. But Always Be Boyz isn't simply You Got Served, Korean style. It's got other things on its mind than b-boy battles and braggadocio. This is the kind of movie where characters debate Plato and admire ballet. There's something almost abstract about John Kwon's version of Korean break-dance culture -- it's a little too uncannily non-street to count as a b-boy film, or perhaps it's the odd pacing and strange narrative turns that best captures the world of dance beyond the dance. In any case, Always Be Boyz is unlike anything before it. We can't wait to see what John Kwon serves up next.

10. Kissing Cousins

dir: Amyn Kaderali

Director Amyn Kaderali's debut film Kissing Cousins boasts two likeable leads and a silly ensemble cast that keeps the laughs coming as we embark on this twist on the traditional romantic comedy. Samrat Chakrabarti, who also had a small but memorable role in Loins of Punjab, plays Amir, whose job (he's hired to break up with people) makes him cynical about relationships. A beautiful girl (Rebecca Hazlewood) pops into his life, but alas, she turns out to be his long-lost cousin. Hijinks ensue, as an overdose of eccentric family members and coupled-up friends overwhelms them all.

Honorable mentions: Option 3 (dir: Richard Wong), The Sensei (dir: Diana Lee Inosanto)

1. Dirty Hands: The Life and Crimes of David Choe

dir: Harry Kim

One day, you're a guy following your friend around for seven years with a camera, and the next day, you're the talk of the town at the Los Angeles Film Festival, where audiences have been swept up by your energetic film that really gets to the heart of the tug-of-war between art and insanity. Director Henry Kim is the man behind Dirty Hands, a documentary about the graffiti artist/muralist/graphic designer David Choe that traces Choe's life from punk kleptomaniac kid spray-painting gigantic whales on the freeway, to respected artist who sells out shows for millions and is being commissioned by big corporations such as Facebook. In addition to dealing with philosophical "art vs. commerce" conundrums, David Choe has the special challenge of being addicted to absolutely everything: sex, drugs, alcohol, gambling, thievery, extreme highs and lows, the whole works. Before the viewer has too much time to feel sympathy for his beautiful, head-perfectly-on-her-shoulders, understandably on-and-off girlfriend, Choe is off to the Congo to search for a dinosaur, he's locked up in a cell somewhere in Japan, he's who-knows-where doing who-knows-what. Dirty Hands captures the spirit of an artist who's constantly struggling with how to keep the recklessness that drives his art, without letting the life of excess sabotage everything else in his life.

2. Planet B-boy

dir: Benson Lee

Benson Lee's documentary leaves us all on the edge of our seats as we follow teams of international break dancers (or b-boys), hoping for the chance to represent their countries and compete in the "Battle of the Year" at the 2005 World Championships in Germany. What outsiders may deem mere street dancing is elevated to a visual, physical, spiritual art -- combining explosive physicality, spot-on synchronization, sometimes adding innovative tricks and sociopolitical performance concepts, depending on the team. The documentary gives us a brief synopsis of b-boy history before launching us into the rehearsals and personal lives of our players. What's fascinating is the commentary that breaks down the particular strengths of each team and tells what each country has traditionally been known for. Korea has rapidly risen to dominance, despite having had a late start in the scene. Japan is known for its innovative choreography; France for its muscle-glistening power moves. But once they get out there on stage, all the technical analysis evaporates into thin air. All we want to do is sit back and watch.

3. Up the Yangtze

dir: Yung Chang

Up the Yangtze is the most heralded Asian American film of the year, winning praise and prizes everywhere from Canada (where the filmmaker hails) to Amsterdam to San Francisco to Taipei. It's now nominated for an Independent Spirit Award, partly a result of its well received art house run. The amazing thing about the documentary's success is that nobody has ever doubted its intellectual rigor or its cultural credibility. In a year of countless documentaries about Asia made by Westerners, Up the Yangtze stands as the most respected because Chinese Canadian director Yung Chang makes being an outsider partly the point. The documentary is about the role of the Western tourist in facilitating socio-economic change in the much-debated Three Gorges area of China. As such, it's one of the few documentaries on China to not simply teach outsiders about the plight of the Chinese, but to teach outsiders about themselves and their complicity in China's transformation.

4. Long Story Short

dir: Christine Choy

Long Story Short manages to capture everything we feel about family, parents, Asian American representation, history, and legacy. Actress Jodi Long (All American Girl) grew up in a showbiz family, spending childhoods backstage at the Forbidden City nightclub in San Francisco. What she never saw first-hand was her mother and father's vaudeville act of the 1940s and 50s, which climaxed in a historic performance on The Ed Sullivan Show in 1950. When Jody was cast in David Henry Hwang's Broadway revival of Flower Drum Song, family history seemed to come full circle, since Jody's father was in the original production. As she's compelled to discover more about her parents' experiences, comparing it to her own challenges as an Asian American entertainer, it becomes a story for all of us -- respecting trailblazers of the past and being proud of where we came from. After Jodi tracks down a copy of the Ed Sullivan Show and is able to show it to her parents (who have never seen the episode themselves) 50+ years later, we're sold. We could watch that performance over and over again.

5. Oh, Saigon

dir: Doan Hoang

Another first-person documentary about a family, Doan Hoang's Oh, Saigon asks a Vietnamese American family to confront its fissures following the Fall of Saigon, when a brother was separated and a daughter abandoned. The film documents the impossibility of absolute reunion given the political legacies and the traumas of transnational migration. Because Oh, Saigon is about the filmmaker's own family, the documentary has a certain raw intimacy that is its greatest asset, as well as what makes it at times frightening. The confrontations we see depicted are, after all, the result of the filmmaker's project, and it's often chilling to see Hoang not simply documenting a story, but instigating it by asking her family to come to terms with 20 years of awkward silence, not for the film's sake, but for her own peace of mind. But beyond simply forcing us to face brutal truths, Oh, Saigon wants us to feel a sense of home and togetherness, sentiments that are most effectively depicted not through verite instigation, but through cinematic tenderness, exemplified by the use of the old Vietnamese song of the film's title.

honorable mentions: Wings of Defeat (Risa Morimoto), A Jihad for Love (Parvez Sharma)

Back to APA's Best of 2008 issue

Published: Friday, January 2, 2009