Film Review: 'Minari,' An American Story
By Jane Kim
T
his past Korean American Day, I had the opportunity to view a special screening of Minari - an American film written and directed by Lee Isaac Chung. The title of the movie Minari (pronounced MEE-NAH-REE) is the name of an herb that originates from East Asia. It is often eaten in Korea as a prepared namul side dish or is used as a flavoring ingredient in stews and other dishes. It is recognized for its purifying/detoxifying properties, health benefits, and its distinct flavor/fragrance. Minari grows easily and thrives, even if the conditions aren’t optimal. It’s an exquisite metaphor for telling the intimate story of a Korean American immigrant family in pursuit of the American Dream and all the relatable struggles and defining moments of growth that come with it.
With a superb cast, a soul-stirring score, beautiful cinematography, brilliant props, and stunning screenplay, Minari captures the distinct yet familiar experiences of a Korean American immigrant family. The opening scene shows us the Yi family, luggage packed into the car, pulling up to a plot of land in rural Arkansas with a lonesome trailer in the middle. Jacob (Steve Yeun) proudly introduces his children and wife to the land on which he will cultivate his dream of having a successful Korean produce farm. Their new home comes as a surprise to its new inhabitants as it has wheels and doesn’t even have stairs that you can climb to get in; they can only enter with the help of another (kind of like how immigration laws were set up for Asians to immigrate to the U.S. back then - but I digress). The children, Anne (Noel Kate Cho) and David (Alan Kim), explore their new surroundings with wide-eyed wonder, but their mother, Monica (Han Ye-ri), takes everything in with notable shock and dismay. Monica looks at her husband in disbelief and says, “This isn’t what you promised.” Starting a new life in rural Arkansas may not be a setting that most may relate to, but the feeling of being met with unfulfilled promises and disappointments is more familiar than we’d like to admit, especially for many who have chased after the mythical “American Dream.”
The Yi family settles into their new home and Jacob works to get his dream farm up and running. He also works as a chick sexer with Monica to pay the bills, doing the monotonous labor of separating female chicks that will eventually grow into profitable egg-laying hens from the not-as-useful male chicks that will be discarded. As obstacle after obstacle arises with the farm, Jacob struggles with feeling more like a worthless male chick headed to the incinerator than a successful farmer. As Chung tells the story of his own childhood through Minari, it feels like he’s telling the story of our collective Korean immigrant parents who worked hard, weathering sacrifice and struggle, to provide a better life in America. Yet Chung frames these hard experiences beautifully to show us that they are more than the sum of their sacrifices. There is so much more to the story than the heart-wrenching moments.
As marital tensions heighten, Jacob and Monica decide to bring in SoonJa (Youn Yuh-Jung) from Korea to support the family and care for the children. SoonJa brings with her connections to their Korean life with foods/tastes from Korea that Monica in particular longs for and digs into with sheer delight. She also brings connections to the family’s future in the form of minari seeds that she plants along a creek with David in hopes to bond with him. SoonJa is not what American-born David thinks a “real grandma” should be like since she doesn’t bake cookies or filter what she says, and he wants her gone; but halmoni ends up being exactly who he needs and wins his heart like she does ours.
The development of SoonJa and David’s relationship is one of the most beautiful things Minari offers, and their growth together serves as a healing balm for the pain of seeing Jacob and Monica stretched to their breaking point. This film breaks your heart through its stunning storytelling and also puts your heart back together again by the time the credits roll, only for you to realize that pieces of it have been stolen by none other than adorable David and his family that is more like yours than not. The Yi family’s story feels so real and relatable to Korean Americans because Minari is filled with authentic details good and bad - from the racist interactions with white people who otherize by demeaning the Korean language, staring at our different faces, and infantilizing us with “you’re so cute” comments to the intergenerational family dynamics and carefully selected props that transport us to our own memories and connect us to our roots.
Minari incorporates numerous props that are so culturally specific to Korean immigrant families, and I love how they are not explained in the film. They just are. When I saw the Yi family’s luggage in the opening scene, I immediately thought of the same green Samsonite hardshell luggage my own mother immigrated with decades ago. Whether it’s the wall calendar paper that Monica uses to line the dressers or the red hwatu cards that Soonja plays with, the film does not lose time in overexplaining culturally-specific elements because it is not catering to a specific audience. There are things that will resonate with some and not with others. And that’s okay. That is life. Many immigrants and descendants of immigrants will be able to make connections to culturally specific things they find in their homes - from the luggage that brought their belongings and dreams to the cultural decor that made their living spaces feel more like home. Just like how some folks connect the use of Tiger Balm to soothe all woes to how other cultures use VapoRub to heal all ailments, we can find parallel experiences without having the same exact artifacts. No dialogue in the film is wasted on explaining what each Korean detail is, but each word is devoted to portray real interactions and real emotions of real human beings. Explanations are unnecessary when you're not operating under the white gaze. Does the notion that viewers may find themselves having to google some things that pique their curiosity make this film any less American? Absolutely not. Does the fact that most of the dialogue is in Korean make Minari any less American? Again - absolutely not. Minari is a film written and directed by an American, starring Americans, telling a very American story. Minari is an undeniably American film that uses two of the many languages used in America, Korean and English, despite what entities like the Hollywood Foreign Press Association may erroneously conclude. Minari is a film that encompasses many elements of my childhood and I’m sure that of many others. Just like how the minari that Soonja planted grows abundantly by the creek in unfamiliar soil, we see the fruitful resilience of this Korean American family on full display in this captivating film - a resilience that many immigrant families can relate to.
Following the special screening, there was a special Q&A session Sandra Oh did with the cast and director. There was a moment when Sandra Oh mentioned that this film made her realize once again that “Asian Americans sit on so much grief.” To have our stories - our American stories - told for us and by us via film is unfortunately still a rare occurrence. You could see the stark contrast between how the Korean actors responded to her questions on what this film means for them versus the Korean American actors and director. Someone like Youn Yuh-Jung, who is a veteran and beloved Korean actress who has starred in so many films, dramas, and shows for decades in a country that has always shown faces and stories like hers, may not truly understand what this kind of representation means for Korean Americans and Asian Americans living in a country that has often erased us. On the flipside, Steven Yeun and Sandra Oh’s tears showed just how much even this one film means to us and how much it means to be seen. I was moved to see their raw emotion because even in their tears, I felt so seen and understood.
I hope that more authentic Asian American stories will be told through all mediums, but especially through film. I long to see more stories - stories that are not whitewashed, but stories that are for us, by us, and about us, showing off our multidimensional experiences and celebrating the fullness of our humanity. To help make sure this becomes our future, our support is crucial. If you are able, please support Minari with your dollars and encourage others to do the same.
Photo courtesy of David Bornfriend and A24.
Jane Kim is an educator born, raised, and based in Queens, NY, who is passionate about issues of culture, social justice, accessibility, diversity, equity, and inclusion. She earned her B.S. in Human Development from Cornell University, and both her M.A. as a Reading Specialist and her Ed.M in Education of the Deaf & Hard of Hearing from Teachers College, Columbia University. You can follow her on Instagram and Twitter.
Help us continue the work of empowering voices. Give today.