Andrew Ahn, a filmmaker who fondly grew up in what he describes as “a Blockbuster Video family,” reminisces about his childhood where his family frequently rented three to four movies each weekend. One notable memory for the then 8-year-old was when his mother brought home a VHS of Ang Lee’s “The Wedding Banquet,” a film she selected because she heard it was popular among white audiences, unaware of its themes centering on queer identity.
“The Wedding Banquet,” released in 1993, tells the story of a Taiwanese immigrant in New York (played by Winston Chao) who plans to marry a woman (May Chin) to appease his parents and keep his gay relationship (with Mitchell Lichtenstein) hidden. The film was groundbreaking for its time—a rare queer, Asian American romantic comedy that became a landmark piece, earning an Oscar nomination.
As he matured, Ahn, now 39, was approached with the idea of revisiting this significant film. Initially, he found the proposal intimidating, but with his background—being the son of Korean immigrants and having directed films like “Driveways” and “Fire Island”—he realized he had a unique perspective to offer.
“I’ve tried throughout my career to navigate the interplay between sexuality, culture, and family,” Ahn shared recently over coffee, reflecting on how many gay films he saw growing up seemed to isolate these aspects. “The Wedding Banquet” interwove these themes seamlessly, setting a high standard for him at a young age.
Ahn’s interpretation of “The Wedding Banquet,” which premieres in theaters on Friday, is intensely personal, with those involved in the project hesitating to use the term “remake.” Featuring Kelly Marie Tran, Lily Gladstone, Bowen Yang, and Han Gi-chan, Ahn’s version seeks to reinterpret and extend Ang Lee’s pioneering narrative for today’s audience.
Producer James Schamus, who co-authored both the original and Ahn’s version, states, “This project began with the realization that ‘The Wedding Banquet’ hadn’t been remade. Our film needed to be newly envisioned and maintain its relevance in current times.”
While Lee’s original had its place in history, Gladstone describes Ahn’s version as similarly captured within its time but in a radically different social context. Released 32 years after its predecessor, Ahn’s film shines a light on both the progress and challenges that still exist for the LGBTQ community. Debuting shortly after the election of Donald Trump, it prompted the cast and crew to reflect on its current significance.
Gladstone remarks, “Creating a joyful space is an act of resistance.” Schamus adds, “In a climate where the joy of this community faces threats, this film serves as a testament to its vital importance.”
In Ahn’s iteration, the story expands to focus on not one but two couples. Min (played by Han) loves his partner Chris (Bowen Yang) but concocts fake nuptials with friend and roommate Angela (Tran) to fool his visiting grandmother, portrayed by Youn Yuh-jung. Meanwhile, Angela intends to use the funds from this arrangement to fund IVF with her partner Lee (Gladstone).
This rendition shifts cultural backgrounds from Taiwanese to Korean and incorporates more modern intergenerational dynamics. For Yang, “the stakes in the original were about survival,” whereas Ahn’s film explores themes of community and belonging.
Primarily set in the Seattle home of Lee, a member of the Duwamish Tribe who reclaimed her ancestral land, Ahn crafts a heartfelt depiction of a turbulent but loving household orbiting the intimate complexities of its characters. Ahn’s touch, characterized by sincerity, infuses the narrative with warmth and depth.
“The film draws heavily from my life,” Ahn admits, noting how deeply personal scenes resonate with his own experiences. An argument between Tran and Gladstone’s characters mirrors a conversation Ahn had with his boyfriend about having children.
Tran, who announced her queer identity during the film’s production, found the experience transformative. “The predominantly queer environment of the production was a revelation for me,” she said. Gladstone echoed her sentiments, emphasizing how authentically the film reflected her true self.
Yang, having endured discredited “conversion therapy” in his youth, relates to the themes of both versions of “The Wedding Banquet.” Viewing Lee’s film during college, it resonated with his aspiration for familial understanding and acceptance.
“The movie ends with a semblance of hope amidst uncertainty,” Yang reminisces. “It felt like a template for my journey with my family.”
Whether Ahn’s take will connect with audiences like the original remains to be seen, yet it pulses with compassion and optimism. Gladstone touts it as a “high quality-of-life project,” and its stars hope it finds resonance with viewers.
“It’s challenging to celebrate amidst adversity, yet crucial,” Tran reflects, recognizing the duality between celebrating queer identity and acknowledging ongoing struggles.
As Yang observes, “Both films are testimonies to survival. They are parts of an ongoing narrative.”