The cinema of every western nation has its fair share of immigrant stories, but the American approach to these tales of identity and attempted assimilation are often striking in their sheer contrast to how these narratives are told elsewhere. In Europe, for example, the common way to tackle the immigrant experience is through bleak social realism, the central character study often merely a conduit for a more obvious political allegory, never letting the simplicity of the personal become political no matter how nakedly humanistic each story can be. Stories of the American immigrant experience may be similarly bleak, but they often play into the mythologising of the country via the fabled American Dream, if only to subvert that very idea.Â
Lee Isaac Chung’s Minari, possibly the best film of the year, is a masterclass in this form of storytelling. It’s a richly drawn character study that explores the eternal allure of the American Dream, set during the Ronald Reagan years but wise enough to realise that the small, personal details of one family’s lives as they chase the immigrant fantasy is far more impactful than offering an over familiar political commentary that some audiences will already be inclined to agree with. As someone who has never set foot in the U.S., only ever experiencing the country via screens big and small, I too have fantasised about moving there, the nation’s self mythologised character as a place where anybody can go to make it so pervasive around the world, even as we can’t help but be aware of its continued failings.Â
Minari might be the best example to date of a film that understands the romantic appeal of a country that claims to pride itself on its immigrant population, and why millions of people worldwide still follow that ideal, all the while making the personal political with a more subtle examination of the disconnect from a homeland and a new home. It’s a rare beast: a distinctively American story that will nevertheless resonate worldwide.
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Set in the mid-80s, Minari follows parents Jacob and Monica (Steven Yeun and Han Ye-ri) and their two children David and Anne (Alan Kim and Noel Cho) as they move to rural Arkansas, following Jacob’s dream of starting a farm. The relationship between the parents is already strained, as Jacob has long wanted to be more than a factory chicken sexer, but he’s determined to make a new start and provide for the family. When the children’s grandmother Soon-ja (Youn Yuh-jung, likely best known to Western audiences through collaborations with Hong Sang-soo and Im Sang-soo) moves in, things are strained further, but the family perseveres with their attempts to assimilate into the area, despite a language barrier and slowly growing poverty gap.
The reason Minari feels so resonant is because of how it stands in sharp contrast to the aforementioned social realist approach to immigrant stories. Too frequently, well meaning directors fixate on the suffering of their characters to feed into a wider, overblown analysis of the dehumanisation many face in the supposedly welcoming societies they have moved to. Chung, who also wrote the screenplay, doesn’t exactly take a fantastical approach to immigrant life; the drama is firmly foregrounded in the friction moving has caused in Jacob and Monica’s marriage, along with the disconnects between the Korean and white American communities in Arkansas. But Chung fleshes out this world with a down-to-earth humour that finds hilarity in the humdrum. With such a keen eye on the deadpan absurdity of their lives, it doesn’t become immediately apparent just how poverty stricken the family members are. The writer/director isn’t blind to the struggles faced by the family — but unlike other directors, he’s aware that his characters are far richer than the mere sums of their suffering.
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Chung doesn’t take a particular point of view while shifting perspectives between the family, but it’s when he shows the world from a child’s perspective that Minari is at its best, contrasting the possibility of newfound rural life with the less happier reality. As David, Alan Kim gives one of the most impressive child performances ever committed to celluloid, conveying a simultaneous shyness at the wider world; an eagerness to escape his claustrophobic home life. David’s relationship with grandma Soon-Ja might be the very heart of an already warm and inviting film.Â
Minari features one of the most recognisably authentic portrayals of a young child learning to live with their grandparents for the first time, capturing a distinctively childish antagonism and mischievousness when faced with a stranger who seems to have arrived from another planet altogether. Other directors would use this relationship to build a more conventional multi generational immigrant tale — for Chung, this is a reliable well of offbeat comedy, which offers a more thorough look at the struggles of assimilation than a straightforwardly dramatic subplot could.
A  powerful family drama, Minari captures the minutiae of everyday life, subtly placing it within the wider context of immigrants chasing the American Dream. It’s very likely the most distinctively American story of the year, however it’s so richly realised in its study of family and the search for prosperity that it transcends borders in the way only the best cinema can.Â
Alistair Ryder (@YesitsAlistair) has been writing about film and TV for nearly five years at Film Inquiry, Gay Essential and The Digital Fix. He’s also a member of GALECA (the Gay and Lesbian Entertainment Critics Association), and once interviewed Woody Harrelson, which he will probably tell you about extensively, whether you want to hear about it or not.
Categories: 2020 Film Reviews, 2020s, Drama, Featured, Film Reviews
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