In the second-to-last episode American Born Chinese‘s first season, the conflicts pinch to the point of appearing “Beyond Repair,” as the episode is entitled. But of course, that’s also the name of the show that Ke Huy Quan’s character Jamie Yao revisits in the reunion panel that starts the episode, where we left off in Episode 6. That fake sitcom’s name suggests the question of whether Jamie’s past notoriety as Freddy Wong has done irreparable damage as a cultural stereotype and to Jamie himself. The larger thematic question that the episode poses– and maybe the whole show poses– is whether Chinese American cultures, so repeatedly washed through cycles of scrutiny, exclusion, exploitation, misapprehension, and internal division, can redeem ourselves? Let’s consult the P.L.O.T. chart.
SPOILER on the way for Episode 7 of American Born Chinese, “Beyond Repair,” and for Gene Luen Yang’s “American Born Chinese” original graphic novel.
1. “And I hope there’s a kid out there watching this who believes that he doesn’t have to be a punchline.”
A show that has its thesis come out of the mouth of a character, particularly one from a disconnected parallel subplot, might be creditably accused of being too “on the nose.” I don’t care. I can think of five reasons the Jamie Yao “Beyond Repair” reunion speech hit hard for me, five layers of significance for this bald statement of purpose. (This could be its own Five Thoughts column.)
First, the spot in the story that the Jamie Yao/Freddy Wong thread sits in, the spot where the graphic novel employed the (really effective, if sadly misunderstood and abused) Chin-Kee bits, has always been the blunt, non-indirect bit of sardonic, in-your-face, defiant polemic. Second, the scene and speech’s positioning within the season’s arc and among the character storylines lets it speak a moral message straightforwardly, yet also periphrastically contrast other pieces of this episode, like Principal Kinney’s condescension or Simon and Christine’s cold drift.
Third, Yao’s mourning that, “After the show ended… the only parts that I got offered were nerds and neighbors. And sometimes ninjas,” holds the added metatextual valence of artistic significance for all the Asian-heritage and -American creators, filmmakers, writers, performers, and producers on the show who’ve faced their own forms of these biases, from Gene Yang to Michelle Yeoh, from Destin Daniel Cretton to Ronny Chieng. Fourth, Gene Luen Yang’s comics work has always explored those ideas of what makes a hero, “Someone who goes on a journey. Shows some courage. Helps others… People like [my parents] weren’t on TV back then,” as Yao comments.
And fifth, to have those reflections come from the mouth and voice of Ke Huy Quan, whose childhood roles in Indiana Jones and Goonies basically set the mold for me as a Chinese American kid for better and for worse… The show’s creators had to know exactly how much of a gut punch that speech would be for someone like me, watching him pressured to put on that demeaning wig, and then answering the “why aren’t you grateful?” subtextual questions with firm, heartfelt, humble, and hopeful assertiveness.
2. Wise Guides Step Aside
Just noting how vital it is to the plot that at this point, Guanyin-pusa tells a determined Wei-Chen that he will have to pursue this last stretch on his own, and simultaneously, Jin’s parents appear to be pushing him aside while walking away from each other. These elder mentor characters, by choice or constraint, wisely or wearily, step back in order for the heroes to step into their journeys. That’s an important and crafty rejoinder to the error that Principal Kinney expresses when she clumsily misapplies “cultural sensitivity” and impugns how “mothers within your community tend to operate.” As Simon says, “I’m sorry, but your books and your card have nothing to do with us,” especially where childen’s missteps are perceived as failures of parenting. Compare this to Guanyin’s reminder that she “supported your quest to follow your dreams” without ever promising “that they would come true.” This path is one that Wei-Chen and Jin have to go alone.
3. We Have No Idea who Niu MoWang Is
As Bull Demon gives Sun WuKong even more of a shard time, he bitterly challenges the Monkey King, “You don’t get to tell me who I am. You have no idea who I am!” I couldn’t help thinking, despite the episode-long backstory in episode 4 (“Make a Splash”), I’m still not totally sure who Niu MoWang is either. As much as I’ve wanted to enjoy the parts of this show that do Journey to the West: West X, and as much as I’ve liked the individual performances, I admit to feeling mostly apathetic to the heavens-shattering uprising storyline. No fault to Leonard Wu’s turn as Bull Demon, as he pulls off the snarly yet sympathetic charisma as best as the material allows him. Maybe it’s a failure of my own imagination. But it feels a bit like the adaptation of the Chinese classics shows a ton of thought and care, but perhaps therefore lacks a spark or a compelling central thrust.
Continued below4. With or without the Fourth Scroll, I will rescue my father.
Despite my lukewarm response to the mythic elements, I do think the show succeeds against the odds in making very different and potentially discordant genres fit harmoniously together into one story. It’s the show’s “Abracadabra thing,” and accomplishing this combination of the metaphysical, martial arts, teen melodrama, and meta-commentary is no mean feat. For example, I didn’t flinch when, in succession, Christine tells Jin that she’s staying with Auntie Elaine, and then Jin finds out he’s starting at midfield because Brendan got food poisoning, and then Jin gets into an altercation with the school’s crane mascot… followed by Wei-Chen explaining that Bull Demon has the Iron Staff and threatens to overthrow the Jade Emperor, Niu MoWang pulling the Monkey King’s soul apart with glass forged in DiYu, and Jin finally meeting the goddess of compassion (and knowing better than to turn down her offer of tea.)
This could all be so jarring. Or feel like those cheesy 4pm kid sitcoms about teens with magical powers. Yes, top-tier production quality and sharp writing keep it from slipping into those comparisons. But what stands out to me as we near the season’s end is the earnestness of the performances. Yes, from heavyweights like Michelle Yeoh, Ke Huy Quan, and Ronny Chieng. But most of all from leads Ben Wang and Jimmy Liu, and I’d add Yann Yann Yeo and Chin Han as Christine and Simon too. Within American Born Chinese‘s broadly operatic situations and story elements, the protagonists’ emotional authenticity, torn between their own dreams and their obligations to each other, afraid to depend on each other but hopeless on their own, anchor the show’s truthfulness.
5. Setting up for a Satisfying Wrap-Up?
Around the core characters, pieces are settling in place for the finale. Amelia (Sydney Taylor) shows sincere feelings for Jin– and maybe in next week’s post, we’ll consider that relationship’s part in the story, including the drastically different way that goes from the graphic novel. The Fourth Scroll mystery is still open-ended, but our attention is shifted from the Mah Guo Fun to the Friends We Made Along the Journey. Sun WuKong is dead, maybe, so the mentors have fully cleared the way for our young heroes. And Simon and Christine seem to have experienced a breakthrough, though they still appear to be more than a churchlady who drives a station wagon and a modest employee shot down in a blaze glory.
Will the last episode bring a satisfying climax to this first season? Let’s roll this up next week in the season finale of American Born Chinese, “The Fourth Scroll.”
