Minari: chicken soup for the Korean-American soul

I finally got around to watching Minari.  I didn’t watch it because of all the Academy Award acclaim it was getting, nor did I watch it solely because it was a film about Koreans, starring Koreans and was produced by mostly Koreans.  I’ve been wanting to watch Minari because based on the premise of the film, it was something that I knew was probably going to hit home to a Korean-American person like me, and I went in knowing that there were probably going to be a lot of moments of reflection, reminiscing, comparing and probably shit that was going to make me cry.

Without giving anything away, the basic plot is a Korean family moves from California to Arkansas, primarily so that dad (Steven Yeun) can chase his dream of starting up a farm.  Naturally, this is a cause of culture shock for Koreans to move into rural middle America, and the struggles and rigors of surviving and adapting at the same time.

What was endlessly amusing to me is that I feel like Steven Yeun, since rising as a star from The Walking Dead, I feel like took his appearance in David Chang’s Ugly Delicious to heart a little bit, where Chang’s circle-jerk of celebrity friends was giving him a little bit of shit for being able to make it as a big-time American star in spite of being Korean, and almost since then, has been doing a lot of roles that inject him into his Korean heritage.  Despite the fact that his Korean sounds a lot like most Korean kids who did a lot of their growing up in America, it’s his attempts to sound like fresh-off-the-boat English that had me cracking up. 

But if there’s anything that was truly right about the entire film, it was undeniably Youn Yuh-Jung’s role in the film, playing grandma Soonja.  Obviously her performance was justly recognized seeing as how she was a shoe-in to win best supporting actress and did such, becoming the first Korean actor or actress to win an Academy Award.  But she shines from the moment she shows up in the film, and it makes me reminisce to my own childhood, where my grandma often stayed at my home to fulfill the same role as Soonja did, being the free babysitter for primarily me since I was the baby of the generation.  My grandma wasn’t nearly as hands-on, or quite nearly as sassy or show as much personality as Soonja did, nor was I nearly the shithead to her as David was to Soonja, but it definitely gets the memories flooding through the gates.

Frankly, there’s a lot of parallels to the film I could feel with my own life, seeing as how both my parents were also chicken sexers growing up, and how my family grew up in rural Virginia, which wasn’t nearly as remote as Arkansas, but was still similar in the sense that there probably were like 15 Koreans in the entire town, with some of them being relatives.  And I imagine just about every Korean family in America could probably feel some sort of kinship to the film as I did, and just about everyone in my own family has stated similar feelings themselves.

There’s a lot of subtle symbolism and interpretation necessary in the plot and its happenings throughout the film, and at first blush I was kind of perplexed at the way the film concluded, but when I lay in bed thinking about it, most of it kind of falls into place, and it makes me admire the film even more than I did while watching it.

Bottom line is that the film really is like chicken soup for the Korean-American soul, and although it’s nowhere near as critically acclaimed or attention-getting as Crazy Rich Asians or Parasite, but in my opinion, is still a tremendously important film for Korean or other Asian cultures to try and watch sometime.

S9: My 600 Lb. No-hitter

Finally caught up with all of season 9 of My 600 Lb. Life.  As much as I love the show, as well as other TLC stalwarts like 90 Day Fiancé, the fact that all their episodes are like 90+ minutes apiece, makes it really hard to commit to the time investment that every single episode takes to watch.  As truly great as the shows are, there are often times more important things I could be doing in 90 minutes than watching garbage, albeit it’s garbage that I love.

As I touched on in a prior post, we the TLC viewers were treading into uncharted territory as far as My 600 Lb. Life was concerned, as season 9 was batting a cool .000 as far as people getting onto the surgery table and getting bariatric surgery in order to lose weight.  Sure, coronavirus had a tremendous amount to do with that, seeing as how there were 3-4 subjects that qualified for weight-loss surgery, but were unable to actually get it within the episode due to coronavirus.  All the same, I count those as failures too, because after 13 episodes, the season ended with not a single person getting weight loss surgery, with the vast majority of them outright failing, because they’re just trainwrecks to begin with.

Going into episode 13, I thought TLC would be saving the best for last, and much like an actual baseball no-hitter, it had to get busted up in the final inning.  Certainly, Chrystal would be the person to get her shit together, lose the requisite weight in order to qualify for weight-loss surgery, get on the table, and I could laugh about how the show plans their Dr. Now voiceovers to poorly link to another prerecorded segment where he talks about the benefits of bariatric surgery.

Welp, surgery didn’t happen, in spite of Chrystal’s eventual success at losing the prerequisite weight in order to qualify.  But I can’t say that TLC didn’t save the best for last, because in this final episode of the season, not only did we witness a moment where a subject stepped onto an elevator, and made it lurch downward from the weight, causing her to lose her shit in the hallway of whatever econo-motel she and her posse were staying at.

We also had a short but no-less scathing moment of where Dr. Now clinically told the person that she smelled.  I’ve watched just about every episode of this show and it’s no secret that these large individuals have hygiene issues a lot of the times, but at no point has Dr. Now ever straight up told a person that they smelled before.  Obviously, he didn’t use those exact words, but he also didn’t mince the ones he did when he insinuated that their girth clearly had something to do with the fact that he was smelling something rather unpleasant.

Either way, season 9 is in the books.  Blame coronavirus, or blame the format of the show in that they clearly have the spin-off My 600 Lb. Life: Where Are They Now? to hold back pertinent points like successful surgery, but as far as My 600 Lb. Prime goes, we just had an entire season where every single trainwreck in the season, failed. 

A real-life, televised no-hitter thrown by TLC, congratulations.