If there is a lesson learnt from teen films, it’s that prom is the ultimate stage for a cinematic climax, and the events taking place when a student is named either Prom King or Queen can either make or break someone. However, the genre tends to lean towards the title of Prom Queen, who are typically depicted as a blonde, pretty and popular student; in nearly all cases, they are also white. It is the pursuit of this title that guides the comedy-drama Slanted, the latest film written and directed by Crazy Rich Asians 2 co-screenwriter Amy Wang.
Slanted premiered at the SXSW Film and TV festival and won the grand jury prize in the narrative competition section.
Since she was a child, Chinese high-schooler Joan Huang (Dìdi star Shirley Chen) has dreamed of one thing – becoming Prom Queen. Her lifelong obsession with the crown, which she views as the ultimate form of acceptance and popularity, sees her undertake cosmetic surgery – with disastrous results.
When the audience is introduced to Joan, her father Roger (Fang Du) reassures her on her first day of elementary school: “Everyone is going to love you”. But this is far from the truth – she is an outsider as the only Asian in class and is targeted immediately when a punk kid makes fun of her slanted eyes – a metaphorical slap to the face for any Asian. Joan later stumbles across a high school prom and witnesses a Prom Queen being crowned, and the adulation that comes with the title. In the hope of being accepted by her peers, the scene triggers Joan’s dreams of being Prom Queen and, more significantly, being someone else.
While others might take this with a pinch of salt, it is hard not to resonate with Joan’s plight as a person of colour. Wang’s screenplay plays on Joan’s desire to fit in, while exploring what it is to become Asian. While her parents speak predominantly in Mandarin, Joan firmly establishes herself as an American by speaking English, avoiding the use chopsticks, and refusing to eat her homemade Chinese lunches out of embarrassment. Instead, she gives them to her school friend Brindha (Never Have I Ever star Maitreyi Ramakrishnan). Viewers may resonate with such scenes of Joan’s acclimatization to American culture, but Wang integrates them with a sense of self-rejection, as Joan chooses to disregard her heritage for what she considers an “easy” life – one with acceptance instead of prejudice. Furthermore, her unwillingness to discuss her unhappiness with her proudly Chinese parents fuels her inner desire to be American rather than Asian American, let alone Asian.
However, there is such an emphasis on becoming white that the need to distinguish Asian American as a cultural identity is lacking. Throughout Slanted, Wang smartly incorporates Asian culture and the significance of family through the Huangs’ cosy family home, the need to celebrate festivals such as Chinese New Year together, and even making dumplings from scratch. Compare this to a particularly chilling scene involving a white classmate in her pristine, yet bland, home with an equally bland-looking dinner of boiled chicken, white rice and milk (think the Froot Loops scene in Get Out amid a sea of beige), and there is no contest as to which lifestyle is richer. Yet, the narrative leans too heavily on reinforcing the social norms rather than challenging them, leaving the cultural differences that blur the line between American and Asian American underexplored.
Further, the narrative promotes the subconscious ideal of how being white is somewhat better. Joan’s bedroom walls are littered with beautiful white women, and whenever she posts selfies, she uses a filter that changes her from Asian to Caucasian. This visual overload of Joan’s obsession with fake beauty is nauseating but sets a physical precedent for what she thinks is acceptable – especially as she idolises classmate Olivia (Amelie Zilber), a popular white influencer with an adoring posse and superiority complex. It may feel like familiar territory, as popular teen films such as Mean Girls, Jawbreaker and Bottoms have already depicted that popularity equates to power, but it allows Wang to highlight how white privilege affects others with an uncompromising eye through supporting characters such as Olivia and the snooty Harmony (Elaine Hendrix).
By this point, Wang has built up a narrative of heart and poignancy through Joan’s struggles, only to splash it with satire when Joan goes through with adopting a new identity through Ethnos, a surgical service that aims to achieve “equality” by allowing users to become part of a majority. It is hard not to be horrified by certain graphic scenes, but some incredulous dialogue essentially mocks the popularity of cosmetic surgery via social media amid an unapologetically harsh stance on cultural identity.
This change in tone sees Joan achieve her goal when she becomes the blonde and beautiful Jo (McKenna Grace) and quickly becomes integrated with Olivia’s posse. As the aggressed become the aggressor, it is easy to see how the newly instilled privilege affects Jo. Yet, the film doesn’t seem to fully convey that Jo’s all-white world is not the American dream that Joan had in mind. When Olivia ejects a group of diverse peers, including Brindha, from a party, Jo doesn’t display compassion through her personal experience; she instead becomes part of the majority, showing that she would rather be accepted than be kind.
Despite the shift in narrative, the cast does well to ensure Wang’s message is conveyed with care and sensitivity. Shirley Chen exudes a frustration and confusion that underscores Joan’s unhappiness, providing a generational and cultural contrast to her parents, played wonderfully by Fang Du and Vivian Wu. In terms of supporting cast members, Ramakrishnan is beautifully and brutally honest as Brindha, while Amelie Zilber delivers snark and conceit through her expressive performance. A special mention should go to McKenna Grace, who conveys the right amount of confusion and arrogance as Jo, especially when her dream becomes a gruesome nightmare.
Slanted is one of those rare teen films that dares to explore how internalised racism can affect people of colour, culminating in heartbreak and horror. The heavy emphasis on cultural assimilation may be overly prominent, yet Wang’s screenplay and the melee of performances, enable this twisted tale of self-discovery to become something creative and unmercifully honest.
Katie Smith-Wong is a British-born Chinese female film critic who wishes to increase Asian representation in Western cinema. Smith-Wong is also a member of the OAFFC, OFCS, and London Film Critics Circle.
