by Sam H.
Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings is one of my favorite films, but I recognize that not everyone loves the movie and that there are plenty of valid criticisms about it. However, most Chinese Americans who I have talked to agree that one of the film’s strongest parts is its first act, in which Shang-Chi is first introduced as a non-hero. Personally, the first act is one of my favorite parts of the movie too, and when thinking about why this is the case, I realized that this opinion is indicative of how Chinese American representation in movies has evolved.
Before delving into Shang-Chi specifically, I’d like to acknowledge that historically, Asian American representation in Hollywood movies, in general, has been riddled with controversy. The earliest instances of “Asian American” representation were often a white actor portraying an Asian American character in yellowface. Even as Asian American characters slowly started getting portrayed by Asian Americans, many of these characters remained problematic in the tropes they perpetuated, which contributed to the “yellow fever” stereotype of Asian Americans posing a threat to the West. Additionally, there were Asian-specific gendered stereotypes that Asian American characters embodied, a problem that still persists today. Asian American men are often portrayed as effeminate and virginal to the point of suggestable homosexuality, and Asian American women are portrayed as submissive and shy.
Historically, the fight for Asian American representation has been a desperate cry for white audiences to see us Asian Americans as humans instead of caricatures. Seeing an Asian American on screen was often already considered a victory before the sudden boom in Asian American representation in recent years. With movies like Shang-Chi, it becomes evident that modern Asian American representation focuses less on appealing to white audiences and instead, provides accurate representation that can help Asian Americans develop healthier self-perceptions about their identities from the way we are portrayed in media.
While Shang-Chi is a story about family and trauma, the appearance of dragons and mythology can distract from its main themes. However, the integration of instances of first-generation Chinese American culture in the movie’s first act is done skillfully. Examples include Shang-Chi taking off his shoes before entering Katy’s apartment, both Mandarin and English being spoken in Katy’s household on account of Katy’s 外婆 (grandma) living with the family in America, and Shang-Chi and Katy’s love for karaoke. Even though these all seem like extremely small details in the grand scheme of the plot, they stood out as features of most first-generation Chinese American experiences that aren’t always shown in media. These features are embedded so well into the movie that they add to the story and the context of the themes without distracting the viewers too much from the main focus.
Everything Everywhere All At Once achieves a similar task in terms of representing intergenerational trauma while also including important aspects of the Chinese American experience. While comparing these two movies doesn’t necessarily make sense since one is a blockbuster that’s part of a multi-billion-dollar franchise and the other is an independent film that unexpectedly took the box office by storm, it’s important to acknowledge that both movies have fantastical elements, but at their core, they both include authentic and honest portrayals of the experience of being Chinese American, whether through their overarching themes or simple karaoke sequences.
As a first-generation Chinese American, I feel incredibly thankful that representation for our community has improved and increased to the point that there are more movies than just Crazy Rich Asians to talk about. However, I also acknowledge that it’s incredibly important to increase representation for other Asian American ethnicities, specifically for South and Southeast Asian Americans. Increasing intersectionality is also a top priority considering that representation for queer Asian Americans is slowly growing with films such as Fire Island and TV shows like Sort Of. Still, there is a lot of work that needs to be done to improve representation because representation is not only an end goal that’s hard to define but rather a timely process that requires both efforts from studios and us viewers. But, considering how our community turned up for these Asian American films, I’m excited about what future media has in store for us.