The Oscar-nominated film navigates the immigrant American journey, but writer-director Lee Isaac Chung, producer Christina Oh and Steven Yeun emphasize its themes are broader than the Asian American experience: “We were just trying to tell something honest.”
It was a church scene that first caught producer Christina Oh’s attention when she was introduced to the Minari script in February 2019 by the film’s future star, Steven Yeun. In the handful of pages that he showed her, a white girl of primary-school age approaches Anne (Noel Kate Cho), the young daughter of a Korean American family that has just moved from California to rural Arkansas to chase a homesteading dream. It’s the Yi family’s first Sunday at a white church, and everyone means well, even if they don’t know how to show it. “Can you stop me if I say something in your language?” the white girl asks Anne by the post-service buffet. Out comes a stream of gibberish — “chinga-chinga-chon, chama-chama-choo” — that Anne politely endures, then indulges. It’s a kind of racism that’s still underdiscussed — accidental, almost benign, yet pervasive and unmistakable — and writer-director Lee Isaac Chung’s acuity and generosity struck Oh as something different. “It was a new depiction of our existence among white people,” she recalls thinking. “It was done in a way that didn’t villainize anyone.”
Within a couple of days, Chung’s full screenplay — in which Jacob (Yeun), his wife, Monica (Yeri Han), and their children are joined on their nascent farm by the latter’s sprightly, coarse-tongued grandmother (played by revered Korean actress Yuh-Jung Youn) — landed on Oh’s desk. “I read it, and I was so crazy moved by it,” the Plan B producer says of the loosely autobiographical drama. “It had so many beats of my life and in a way that I didn’t ever think anyone else understood, like your grandma coming [from Korea] and bringing bags of myulchi [dried anchovies] and gochugaru [red chili pepper flakes].” The scene with the two girls that had captivated Oh had been pulled from real life, too — it happened to Chung’s sister Leisle at one of the two churches the siblings had attended as children.
At the same time, Yeun, Chung and Oh take care to note in conversations with THR that their film — which has garnered six Oscar nominations (including for best picture), SAG and BAFTA victories for scene-stealing supporting actress Youn and a controversial Golden Globe win for best foreign-language film — deserves to be considered as more than an Asian American movie. They seemed caught in an age-old Hollywood trap that’s persisted during the current “diversity boom,” one that filmmakers of color who have mined their personal histories and proudly showcased cultural authenticity are penned into when their work finds success in the mainstream: how to speak to the specificity of their experience while not having their movies reduced solely to it. Minari tried to see the humanity in everyone. Could the world see the humanity in Minari?
So far, the answer seems to be yes. Since its debut at Sundance 2020, where it quickly became a word-of-mouth sensation, the 1980s-set family portrait has only gained steam as an awards contender. Yeun, 37, who rose to prominence as fan favorite Glenn Rhee on The Walking Dead and earned critical accolades for his supporting turn in Lee Chang-dong’s class-resentment drama Burning, became the first-ever Asian American nominated for a best actor Oscar for his restrained but passionate performance. Notably, with Chadwick Boseman’s death, Yeun is the only living American actor (all of the other nominees are British) competing in his category. [more at source]
posted by mouza on May 03 2021