[yasr_overall_rating]
When a gay fashion stylist works with a renowned foreign actor, they both embark on a journey of self-discovery.
While it’s highly commendable that more gay-themed films and TV shows are being produced, so far the subject matters have mostly revolved around the fact that the protagonist(s) is/are gay. Yes, “Transparent” delicately and wisely dealt with the repercussions of a patriarch coming face-to-face with being transgender, but it was solely ABOUT that, with some less-memorable sub-plots thrown in. Same with “The Danish Girl,” a beautifully-shot but sterile film that examines what it was like to switch gender for an early-20th-Century artist Lili Elbe. Take a look at Laverne Cox’s character in Netflix’s imminently watchable “Orange Is The New Black”: a heart-wrenching couple of episodes deal with Sophia’s transformation; with that out of the way, the poor girl is saddled with a (literally) murky, basement-level sub-plot. HBO’s otherwise-flawed “Looking,” centering around a group of gay friends, came closest to depicting everyday life, gay or straight.
It’s spawned by Hollywood’s love of hammering themes into our heads. Feminism? Instead of providing us with an original film driven by strong, proactive, independent women, we get “Ghostbusters” – “look, women can hunt ghosts too! Take this little slice of stale cake and choke on it!” I dealt with this issue myself, when one of my own scripts – that had a transgender character (gasp!) have a story NOT related to her sexuality or gender – at first piqued the interest of studio execs due to its high concept, and then scared the shit out of them due to its protagonist. It’s “either or” – either you focus on the plight of being transgender, or don’t include transgender characters at all.
I’m not trying to diminish the importance of those features – people, especially ignorant ones, do need to be aware of the historical, personal and societal implications of being transgender and/or gay. But I just wish that there were more films where being gay – like being black or Korean or a woman or disabled – wasn’t the centerpiece of a film, or where a gay character’s sole personality wasn’t that one trait. There is light at the end of the tunnel: smaller, indie films – like Craig Johnson’s “The Skeleton Twins” – have begun to surface, which include colorful characters with depth who just also HAPPEN to be gay. And hey, at least we’re past the days of atrocities like “Boat Trip” and “I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry.”
Unfortunately, Ray Yeung’s “Front Cover” is a love story that ends up being a half-assed study of what it means to be gay and Asian in today’s America. Why couldn’t it JUST be a subtle, tender love story about two young Asian men? My feelings – and mind you, I’m straight and white – is that it would be significantly more memorable, had it just focused on fleshing out its heroes and making their plights original, heartbreaking, new. “Front Cover” does not. The fact that Yeung attempts to deal with a rarely-dealt subject is actually the only thing going for “Front Cover,” the film’s flimsy plot, paper-thin characters and lack of novelty ultimately rendering it a failure.
Ryan (Jake Choi) is a fashion stylist for an unnamed corporation. A self-proclaimed “not very social person,” he’s upset he didn’t get the Front Cover (“It’s because I’m Asian,” he says, fully confident that his impeccable looks or immediately-appealing personality had nothing to do with it). Out of touch with his Chinese roots, he meets Ning (James Chen), a famous star flown in from China to replace him as the model, whom he now has to style. It takes about five seconds for Ning to call Ryan out on his lack of cultural awareness – in a Chinese restaurant, no less, where poor Ryan gets served crab and has no idea how to eat it. He also doesn’t know how to speak Chinese, play Mahjong (a great game, by the way) or, most importantly, doesn’t have a clue about the Chinese fashion style – but all that doesn’t get in the way of Love. Ning may be homophobic to start with, but the closet doors fling open fast, he sheds his strict Communist upbringing and embraces Western civilization (with some coitus thrown in for good measure). In a wildly unpredictable twist of events, their relationship becomes public, cultures clash, yet Love prevails.
Any earnest intentions are scrubbed with hilarious scenes, such as Ryan begging Ning to take his underwear off during a shoot, which ends in Ryan scrubbing Ning’s feet. “Hey, have you ever tried weed?” Ryan inquires, before the requisite munchies, dancing and… well, you know what they say about pot being the gateway drug to homosexuality. One of the few highlights comes in the “parents visiting” scene: “Chinese [are] like water,” the wise, old father states, “takes long time to boil but once hot, takes lifetime to cool down.” Profound. But then the scene drags on. And on and on, with a background flute making things that much more… resonant. This wouldn’t be a sexy romantic film without the obligatory club scene, Ryan and Ning dancing to some 1990s Love Parade-style electronica, complemented by a sex montage that brings to mind THAT club/sex scene from “The Matrix.” Not a good thing. As for the sappy ending, with its messages spelled out like we were in kindergarten eating chalk… let’s just say my gag reflex was getting a workout.
In case you didn’t catch my sarcasm earlier in the review, Ryan is a total brat. “I’m almost 30,” he complains early in the film, “and what do I have to show for it, besides some designer clothes, magazine spreads…” (He goes on to mention a dozen other accomplishments that a vast majority of population would consider “life goals.”) Right after agreeing that he knows next to nothing about Chinese culture, Ryan exclaims, “Who does he think he is, Mao Tse-tung?” – as if he has the slightest clue about the founding father of the People’s Republic of China. As the love affair blossoms, Jake Choi attempts to infuse his character with some likability, but I’ll be frank, the actor is just not up to the task. He lacks charisma and screen presence. James Chen comes off a bit better as Ning, the pompous-but-highly-acute superstar who wants to “represent the New China.” His brashness, juxtaposed against the sweetness, works for the most part; he dominates the scenes with Choi, and part of it is surely due to his character: it’s much easier to cast an impression as the cocky superstar than the quiet, fragile stylist. He fares worse in the later sequences, where subtlety comes creeping in. Both leads lack outstanding features, quirks or memorable personalities.
The sentimental piano interludes, awkward editing and pace, and by-the-numbers plot don’t help matters. “Front Page”’s politics are questionable, its examination of cultural differences shallow and at times misguided and muddled. Yeung’s film scores points for having Asian, gay protagonists not SOLELY as a gimmick to appease a still sadly overlooked demographic. Too bad the craft isn’t there. Too bad the plot and the characters kinda suck.
Opens Friday, Aug. 5 in New York (Village East) and in Los Angeles Friday, Aug. 12 (Sundance Sunset 5) with a national release to follow
