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There’s rich—and then there’s crazy rich. Fittingly, *Crazy Rich Asians—*based on the first of novelist Kevin Kwan’s trio of sharply satirical, semi-autobiographical bestsellers—is a posh, refreshing, highly enjoyable Cinderella-style romantic-comedy bauble set among the glam, the high and the mighty. Like Kwan’s novel, the movie is set in a world where sharp class distinctions exist, and where people among the high-society set do some pretty daffy things.
Unlike the book, the movie seems to revel in and idolize excess. Too bad about that because the books pack a bite that’s often missing from the John M. Chu-directed movie version, as adapted by screenwriters Peter Chiarelli and Adele Lim. The frothy flick stars Fresh Off the Boat’s delightful Constance Wu as witty, regular old NYU economics professor Rachel Chu who, for the past year, has been romanced by a dashing, charming prince of a guy, Nick Young (Henry Golding, a Brit-Malaysian model and TV presenter making an impressive big-screen debut).
Rachel just thinks she’s dating a chill guy who likes to shoot hoops at the local Y and binge on Netflix. But agreeing to fly to Singapore with Nick to attend his best pal’s wedding, she becomes the archetypal fish out of shark-infested water when she discovers that her boyfriend is the super famous golden child of a super wealthy real estate family dynasty, with super expectations of him. Suddenly, she’s hurled into a world of mansions, jewels, great cars, haute couture and Nick’s debutante ex-girlfriends, who want to send packing this gauche, American opportunist.
Exactly how revered and rich Nick’s dynastic family is, gets confirmed by Rachel’s one trustworthy college pal, Peik Lin, played with quirk and verve by rapper-turned-scene-stealer Awkwafina. Peik Lin’s wonderfully odd, rude nouveau riche father (Ken Jeong) gets one of the best laughs in a movie full of them when he chides his youngest kids to eat every scrap of food on their plates. In America, after all, children are starving.
Let’s hear it for representation, at long last.
For much of the film’s running time, Wu, who is sweet, lovely and irresistible here, gets inspected, interrogated and filleted by Nick’s hoity-toity family, especially during such memorable sequences as a posh dinner party at the estate of Nick’s grandmother, and during the aforementioned gazillion-dollar wedding, an opulent society blowout to end them all. All the scenes involving Nick’s family—especially the highly relatable weirdness of his older aunts; his stunningly beautiful, unhappily married cousin, Astrid (Gemma Chan); and his out-there cousin, Oliver (Nick Santos)—are primo stuff: funny, warm, culturally detailed but universal in their appeal.
Hovering magnificently over the entire narrative is Nick’s imperious, over-controlling but sympathetic mother, Eleanor (wonderfully played by Michelle Yeoh, who refuses to be a stock Wicked Witch-type). She finds her potential daughter-in-law sorely lacking in family connections, and an unlikely candidate to be able to bridge the gap between traditional Chinese and Chinese-American cultures. “Pursuing one’s passion—how American,” Eleanor dryly observes of Rachel.
Their feuding may be classic romantic-comedy material, but the movie’s surprisingly fleet and nimble cross-cultural currents give it—and the whole movie—a freshness and immediacy. Let’s hear it for representation, at long last. Seriously, who can believe that it’s been 25 years since the release of The Joy Luck Club, Hollywood’s first attempt to finance an Asian-American subject featuring an all-Asian cast? Never mind, don’t answer that question. Just sit back and soak in the fizzy, candy-color diversions delivered by Crazy Rich Asians, and count down how long it will be before we can expect at least one sequel.