THE WEDDING BANQUET

Theaters

I can’t say I was excited about new take on 1993’s The Wedding Banquet, directed by Ang Lee and co-written by frequent, fellow Oscar-winning collaborator James Schamus (along with Taiwanese actor and writer Neil Peng). Released during the height of the AIDS crisis and decades before marriage equality, this delicately moving landmark of Queer representation involving immigration, race, and a clash of cultures was both ahead of its time and decidedly of its time. It’s a modern classic for good reason.

The first great decision filmmaker Andrew Ahn made before even attempting to update the original was to contact Lee and Schamus, run his ideas past them, and then get the pair’s blessing. The latter was so excited that he decided to sign on as a producer and cowrite the new screenplay. The final one was to cast Lily Gladstone and Kelly Marie Tran against type, both so invigorated and inspired that they give two of the finest performances of their careers.

Considering Gladstone is fresh off the one-two-three-four whammy of an Oscar nomination for Killers of the Flower Moon, an Emmy nod for Under the Bridge, major superlatives for the groundbreaking series Reservation Dogs, and a virtuoso turn in the criminally underseen indie Fancy Dance, I do not make that last statement lightly. But she’s mesmerizing in this: light on her feet, showcasing a smile that can light up a room and a gift for subtle physical comedy.

She plays Lee, one half a Seattle Lesbian couple, who is still grieving over the failure of a recent IVF treatment with her bubbly partner Angela (Tran). Considering the high cost, not only are the women psychologically devastated that things did not work out, they are now in dire economic straits as well.

They are best friends with Gay couple Chris (Bowen Yang) and Min (Han Gi-Chan), all so close they even share a house. Min needs to secure a green card, otherwise he faces deportation. But Chris is a bit commitment challenged, so getting him to agree to marriage is proving to be strangely difficult. Yet that is the least of the pair’s problems: Min is also the heir to a Korean fortune, and if his family discovers he is Gay, he’ll be disowned.

The solution is marriage fraud, of course. Min will marry Angela, secure his inheritance, and then pay for her and Lee to keep up their IFV treatments. However — much like in the original film — a pesky grandparent (delightfully portrayed by Oscar-winner Youn Yuh-jung, Minari) insists on a massive, traditional wedding, which unavoidably leads to all sorts of comedic chaos and dramatic travails that Ahn and Schamus milk for all they are worth.

Things proceed pretty much as expected from there. But, as he did with Fire Island, Ahn has a knack for staging outlandish situations in a fashion that keeps them emotionally grounded and authentically character driven. I also liked how the creative team took the original’s concept of a trio conspiring to manufacture a marriage of convenience and expanded it to a quartet. Lee, Angela, Chris, and Min are the very definition of a “found family,” forming an unbreakable bond to deal with life’s inexplicable twists and turns together, no matter how extreme.

That said, the ladies dominate the narrative. Lee and Angela feel utterly alive. While their story has some sitcom elements — likely entirely by design — there is nothing stereotypical, stodgy, or routine about them. This is a richly rewarding depiction of intimacy and love that transcends melodramatic norms. Scenes in which Lee and Angela try to crack jokes in the wake of unimaginable heartbreak and put one another at ease — only to force back tears — hit my soul like a sledgehammer. Gladstone and Tran have chemistry that’s magical.

Yang and Gi-Chan are good as well. It’s just that their characters do tend to play more toward cliché. There’s no nuanced complexity about Chris or Min. When the film focuses entirely on them, it stalls a bit. If you were to add a laugh track to some of their goofier interactions, you’d have the bones of a series that would have aired right after Will & Grace during the early 2000s. Some will find that to be a plus. I, sadly, did not.

But the heart of this comedic drama still beats with thunderous passion and invigorating intensity. In this current climate of political uncertainty, at a moment when Queer rights are on a perilous precipice not seen since the 1990s, Ahn and Schamus have reworked the story in a manner that honors Lee’s original, yet not in ways that keep it from standing on its own. They tackle issues of race, ethnicity, culture, immigration, and healthcare that are decidedly current, with clarity, humor, cleverness, and most of all empathy. As remakes go, this version of The Wedding Banquet proudly walks down the aisle with confident grace and beauteous determination.