By Stuart Leung
Special to ModelMinority.com
April 17, 2003

To be an Asian American in this country is a conflicting battle in cultures and common senses. Simply being has furnished each and every one of us a very unique experience, something we all should be proud of. Anytime I would meet another Asian American, we would share laughs at the similarities of our respective upbringings, we would speak about common experiences growing up in two separate worlds; home and outside the home. I strongly believe that our community has much to say and stories to tell. Yet in spite of all this, there has been nothing but silence concerning our distinct lives. Even today we are caught in outdated stereotypes enabled by popular media. Still we are the butt of discriminatory jokes perpetuated from a lack of knowledge, respect and interest. Simply put, save for martial artists, Asian Americans are all but ignored by the media at large and that's a problem.

However, our under representation and ignorance is not solely Hollywood's responsibility, we also have to shoulder some of the blame ourselves.

What have we as Asian Americans done to demand otherwise? We compose a significant portion of the population and have spending power behind us, but so what? What good does that do if we go on supporting films in which we are severely underrepresented and support products from companies that don't care either way about Asian demographics. All this adds to sustaining a society that has little to no understanding of us whatsoever. We continue to fuel a fire that burns us.

"What can one do?" I've asked myself that question many a time and became quite frustrated. From a sociological standpoint, creating social change on a personal level always seemed too daunting a duty for any one person. This is the beauty of the situation we are in, as simple and effective as having no visibility in American pop culture affects us negatively; it works just as well when reversed. The most efficient channel of shifting societal attitudes and opinions are through popular media outlets such as music, television and movies.

In this case, the movie is Better Luck Tomorrow, a feature film being released by MTV films this spring. Better Luck Tomorrow stars an all Asian American cast as well as being directed by an Asian American, Justin Lim.

Critically acclaimed at the Sundance Film Festival, the "controversial" film follows 6 Asian Americans' plight through high school. Better Luck Tomorrow touches upon many of the stereotypes that we've all faced from one time or another, but it also displays other sides of Asian Americans, other sides that are more than likely unfamiliar to the public at large.

A couple friends and I were fortunate enough to catch a one-time showing of Better Luck Tomorrow at San Diego's Asian film festival this past August. This is certainly not another Jet-Li-Jackie-Chan-Chow-Yun-Fat martial arts flick and that's precisely why I feel it is imperative that this movie does well at the box office.

This is an unprecedented move and will stand alone as such if the film does badly. MTV Films has much invested financially, but we have much more to gain if the movie does well - we will earn respect, demand future visibility, and generate much needed understanding. This is a golden opportunity to let our voices be heard without saying a thing. Money is the language Hollywood speaks and if this movie bodes well with ticket sales, we'll soon have Hollywood speaking often on our behalf. And when Hollywood speaks, the American public will listen. Then think. Then understand.

I'm jaded from all those years being on the short end of ignorance, stereotypes and misunderstandings, most of which derives from our lack of representation. I'm tired of Hollywood thinking the only successful Asian/Asian American actors are ones that split pieces of lumber with their head or portray clichéd dragon-ladies. Moreover, I'm tired of the masses that follow suit. I want future generations of Asian Americans to be able to go without being asked "Do you know karate?" the way I have been questioned at several different times of my life. With that, it is also our responsibility not to let this movie fail

The cost of a movie ticket is all I ask that you donate. Not to me but to the movie theatre in which it is showing. See it once for your benefit. If you like it, see it a second and third time. If you don't like it, buy another ticket for Better Luck Tomorrow and watch something else. If you don't want to see it whatsoever, buy a ticket anyways and watch something apolitical like Drumline. I implore you, it's that important.

As I mentioned before, society has a funny way of taking cues from what's popular. As much as I like to deny that and trump my own individuality, I know in the end we all bow to societal pressure on some level. As for what pressures, it simply depends on the time and place in which you've come up; "Burnouts" emulated their favorite hair band in the 1980s, women requested "Rachel" haircuts during the late 1990s, and currently, kids of all colors follow and imitate African-American rap/R&B stars.

Our time and place can begin this spring. The success of this movie will give birth to other films about our community, films where Asians aren't performing choreographed kung-fu moves or spewing proverbs. Instead we'll have movies that illustrate who we are and the issues that affect our everyday lives. American society may finally take interest and embrace our experiences as they have with other minorities. And from there, respect and awareness will follow.

Not bad for $7.75 right?

Check local listings for Better Luck Tomorrow

An E-Mail Push for "Better Luck"

The star of MTV Films' edgy new movie about Asian American teens in suburbia knew he'd hit pay dirt when copies of his own mass e-mail began bombarding his in-box: "Just see this film," actor Parry Shen wrote. "That is your vote."

Shen's Asian American friends and the hundreds of Asian American friends they forwarded his message to are part of a growing grass-roots movement to promote independent movies and niche projects, particularly those about ethnic groups largely overlooked by mainstream productions.

The cast and crew behind "Better Luck Tomorrow" say there is more at stake than box-office success when the movie opens today in limited release. They hope it will lead to future projects for Asian American actors and filmmakers and to roles that go beyond the stereotypes of Asians as brainy nerds and kung fu fighters.

"If we fall short, it's going to be a shame," Shen said. "It's going to be a long, long time before we get a chance like this again."

Community activists for years have used the Internet to promote niche projects, and that strategy is helping boost a trend toward underground marketing tactics to promote films.

That is particularly attractive to independent filmmakers with limited budgets. They can blanket the streets with fliers and cards and send out e-mails during the crucial first weeks, which determine whether films will gain wide distribution or make a speedy dive to the video store.

Grass-roots efforts paid off big for "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" when buzz within the Greek community helped make that film a runaway success.

"Ethnic audiences are really aware that if they want to see films about themselves, they need to vote or weigh in," said Laura Kim, senior vice president of MPRM Public Relations, who specializes in marketing independent films and is handling MTV Films' limited publicity. "If they're not there for opening weekend, they may not see a second weekend."

To that end, college students armed with giveaways from MTV Films are holding rallies around the country to raise awareness about "Better Luck Tomorrow," and business leaders and community activists are buying out screenings. Several showings, including one in New York and one in the Bay Area, have sold out, and advance ticket sales are said to be strong in Los Angeles.

The African American community is credited with pioneering underground marketing for films in 1998 with so-called First Weekend Clubs. They urged people to pack movie houses for new releases by and about blacks.

Now there are 37,000 people on the Black First Weekend Club e-mail list. Chris Rock targeted that group with an e-mail similar to Shen's, urging people to go see "Head of State," the top-grossing film when it opened March 28. And studios and producers have started floating ideas to club members as a way to test the market.

"It just took on a life of its own," said the group's founder, Sandra Evers-Manly. "We know there's a diverse base out there that's hungry for diverse stories.... The greatest compliment is that we are starting to see some progress."

Encouraged by such successes, Latinos, Asians, gays, Christians and Canadians are among those who have since copied the idea.

The First Weekend Club in Vancouver, Canada, is one of the newest ventures, launched two months ago in an effort to help struggling Canadian filmmakers. One of the first films they promoted, "Flower & Garnet," sold out opening weekend and was bumped to a larger theater, said Anita Adams, a filmmaker and founder of Alibi Unplugged, which helps Canadian writers and their projects.

Some companies are tapping into the concept by offering grass-roots marketing services -- for a fee.

Urban Movie Corp. of America, for example, hires "ambassadors" or "street teams" to wear T-shirts and spread the word to their friends, said its president, Carl Washington. He said the company's campaigns cost $20,000 to $500,000 and can be more effective than million-dollar advertising through billboards or commercials.

"It's not happenstance," Washington said. "This is a proven way to reach a targeted group in a very effective way."

Using this tactic can be risky, however, especially if the film doesn't deliver.

"You can't fool audiences," said Samuel Goldwyn Jr., chairman and chief executive of Samuel Goldwyn Films. "The picture speaks. That's what it's about."

The trick is turning a movie into a movement, said filmmaker Sandi DuBowski, whose documentary "Trembling Before G-d" enjoyed a 4 1/2-month run at Film Forum in New York, one of the best-known independent cinemas in the country.

He sent out mass e-mails but also staged town hall meetings after screenings of his movie, which chronicles the lives of gay Hasidic and Orthodox Jews. He also aimed his marketing at three distinct audiences: gays, Jews and art house fans.

"We were creating this whole community around the movie," said DuBowski. "People got very attached to it, and it became something they would champion in a major way. "

Both "Trembling Before G-d" and "Better Luck Tomorrow" take the grass-roots campaigns to a new extreme: The movie Web sites include a call for volunteers to help pass out fliers and spread the word.

"Better Luck Tomorrow" director Justin Lin believes that his movie about teens who kill a classmate will capture the MTV crowd, thanks to slick promotions aired on that network -- the only traditional marketing behind the film. With good buzz and critical acclaim, it also is likely to attract the indie crowd.

Lin expects Asian Americans to see the movie, but he also wants to attract a mainstream crowd with the story about kids who just happen to be Asian Americans.

Considering that his movie opens on 13 screens Friday against "Anger Management," breaking through won't be easy. That movie, starring Jack Nicholson and Adam Sandler, is spending millions on advertising alone, compared with the $250,000 it cost to make "Better Luck Tomorrow."

Still, Lin is hopeful that his film will prove that Asian Americans have drawing power.

"It would be great if we could carve out our own piece of the pie," Lin said.

"Fairly or unfairly, a lot of things are riding on this film. That's the reality."

Death of the "Model Minority"

Just before everything blows to smithereens in Justin Lin's aggressively impolite social satire "Better Luck Tomorrow," the film's four lead characters take cover in that great American refuge -- their car. The four, Asian American high school students who are fast earning a reputation as toughs, have just left a party where one of them drew a gun on a white jock just before two of them started furiously kicking in the guy's head. Escaping into the night in a red Mustang, the four are experiencing an emblematic SoCal moment.

Seated in the back and still high on the violence, one of the kids, Virgil (Jason Tobin), giddily chatters, oblivious to his friends' uncomfortable silence. "I went," he giggles, lost in the triumphant memory, "jihad on his face." Without warning, the beats floating off the car stereo are drowned out by a louder, more insistent rhythm as a car carrying four Latino gangbangers slides next to the Mustang. One of the kids, Daric (Roger Fan), quickly turns off the radio and along with the driver, Han (Sung Kang), and the narrator, Ben (Parry Shen), nervously eyes the other car. Even when one of the gangbangers brandishes a gun, Virgil keeps throwing his phony gangsta poses. Then fear descends and he wails, "I'm going to juvie" again and again.

Played within an inch of tragedy, the scene lasers in on the comic contradictions of modern American identity, especially for citizens of the pop monoculture. Raised in Orange County and weaned on hip-hop, the four teenagers casually slip on and off identities like masks. To the outside world they exemplify the overachieving sons of Chinese and Korean immigrants, the "model minorities" of so much sociological curiosity and social hostility. Along with the school's other geeks and freaks, they spend their waking hours cramming their heads with data, memorizing names and numbers to jack up their averages. Like the ticky-tacky Spielbergian developments in which they've been raised, their lives are designed for maximum utility and a minimum of individuality.

By turns broadly funny and absurdly broad, "Better Luck Tomorrow" is an anatomy of identity in a culture in which identity comes booming through radio speakers, embroidered on baseball caps and emblazoned on luxury imports. Written by Lin and his friends Ernesto M. Foronda and Fabian Marquez, and structured around an extended flashback, the story traces what happens to Ben when he and his friends shake off their nice-boy credentials to become the schoolyard bullies.

Led by Daric, a Machiavellian operator in a letterman's jacket, the four friends start hustling cheat sheets to the academically challenged. From there it's a short hop to petty larceny, drug peddling, too much cocaine, too many guns and far too much bad-boy attitude by way of "Scarface," "GoodFellas" and other gangsta clichés in rotation.

Although identity is the film's target, "Better Luck Tomorrow" takes specific aim at the American dream by way of the Asian American experience. Lin, like his fellow writers, grew up in Orange County and the movie is based on a short-film script he wrote at UCLA. He claims that this isn't his story but what gives the feature its vigor is its personal flavor. Lin takes an appreciably jaundiced view toward the model minority stereotype. Ben and his friends are Asian Americans in appearance and name but their identities are fluid and ambivalent. In their language, their music, Virgil's baggy jeans and Ben's love of basketball, they aren't any different from any other kids, meaning they're not any different from any other American kid who takes his cues from a very selective, commercial slice of black America.

If a film about four Asian American kids who refer to one another as homies (and worse) while living in Orange County sounds ambitious -- it is. "Better Luck Tomorrow" is one of the more large-minded American independent films to emerge recently and if the entire film were as good as the showdown scene with the gangbangers, it would stand among the most promising of the year. It has the virtue of Lin's tangy wit but it also suffers from the vice of a director who, torn between personal vision and wide public reach, tends to smother his ideas under a veneer of cool. However cynically he views teen identity, Lin also knows that his movie is being sold to a demographic who buys the outward talismans of their identities down at the local mall.

Even when he's pulling punches, Lin's ambivalence toward identity remains honest. Although the film is set in the recognizable present, amid a stupefying suburban anonymity that's almost ethnographic in its detail, the overall mood is that of timelessness. That sense of the story as an allegory of alienation helps Lin avoid the millstone of documentary realism that can weigh heavily on nonwhite artists. Like Tom Cruise's high schooler in Paul Brickman's similarly metaphoric "Risky Business," Lin's characters live in a world largely absent parental supervision. Cut loose from family, Ben and his friends exist in an eternal pop present that's free of the burden of historical memory, cultural allegiance and, as it turns out, morality.

Caught between making a movie with universal appeal and one that's keyed to the stereotype of the model minority, Lin can't help but go occasionally astray. Like Virgil, he seems intoxicated by bloodshed and late in the story he unleashes a paroxysm of violence that's exasperatingly simple-minded, not only on the level of ideas but in pure narrative terms. An accomplished technician and an adept director of actors, Lin doesn't have a distinctive visual style but he does have the advantage of being as smart as he is slick. In "Better Luck Tomorrow," he never eases the pace long enough to unsnarl the story's knottier kinks -- namely, whether monolithic identity is a crock and why -- but he's engaged with the world to a degree that's rare in the indie scene. He's not averse to making us think; he just knows that first he's got to catch our attention.