cinema purgatory

I was almost like that kid in Cinema Paradiso, except, at times, it’s just a projection on our alley wall, showing family footage e.g. wedding etc.. Tons of kids. My cousin worked for our National Film Department all of his life. The perks? VIP premier to Vietnamese film fest. And a sneak peek for the hood.

Often times, I was waived through during my teen years to watch for free (our Uncle own a chain of city cinema): blind sword man, Woodstock the movie, and tons of Alain Delon mixed in with Thanh Lan, Kieu Chinh, Doan Chau Mau, Le Quynh (how can I forget Loan Mat Nhung, our Jean Paul Belmondo).

So it went. My cinema purgatory. No mentor, no adult coaching. Just ran loosed. Find something to amuse yourself with. Stop playing with the neighborhood Franco-Vietnamese girls. Here, play the guitar. “Oh mon amour, ecoute moi, deja la vie, t’attend la bas, il faut me crois, la vie est belle… notre histoire peut continuer, quand tu voudras, et tout sera come d’autre fois…”

Dreams. Projection and self-projection. Mirror and screen. A dissolve, and slow pan find 50 years passing (from Left to Right). Purgatory isn’t long, after all.

Time. Elapse. Standing still. Calm and courant.

I have noticed of late that movies are impatient. Traffic in the film moves faster, cars piling up more and, hardly there were any foreplay in intimate scenes. Boom! Right after “Directed by…” we got hand-held close up of couples making out and making love, showing under and over the sheets. Heaven can’t wait.

Early 80’s saw on and off-screen instances of Yellow Peril, from Detroit to the Gulf states. Inflation through the roof. America in crisis (444 days) and here we are, Asian automobiles, Asian fishermen and Asian bachelor parties? Hit him.

In both instances, My Lai and Vincent Chin. the perpetrators got away with very little time served. A slap in the hand and in the face of justice. I save that for another day. Just want to acknowledge that Chinese American have made quite a stride, from literature to film, from Bruce Lee to James Hong. From cuisine to chip manufacturing, in Harold Evan’s title, from Steam engine to Search engine.

When a minority, the attempt to gain strength by numbers, hence the inclusion and lumping other groups together under a “monolithic” umbrella.

Very much like the earlier European emigrants, or Blacks from Africa and the Caribbean. Then the children of their children refuse the label. Mainstreaming and live streaming themselves, with the help of technology in the hands of the “people”. We’re the people. We’re the world. We’re the children (of whom?).

The womb, the incubator and the lab which nursed us, from UCLA to UCI, from Chicago to Minneapolis. People did not realize that James Hong appeared in many films. Or that Chinese food, albeit under the radar, has as many outlets as other fast-food chains.

It’s been fair to say, Vietnamese American although started out late to the party, have had a hand in many pots, the melting pot as engineers and dentists, MDs and MAs. We don’t dance, don’t fabricate improvised explosive device, and certainly don’t stuff ourselves with fast food (except for Costco pizza).

Always buy by the bulk. Always loyal to clan Manship. And, numbers don’t lie, remit so folks back home don’t have to dumpster dive for food (some victors!).

If you scroll down to my other blog “Our secrets”, you will find the mentioning of the Deer Hunter. Blue-collar vets kidding around, if the job and spouse were still waiting for them after a few tours of Nam.

“hey, if you need help tonight…his wedding night, don’t’ hesitate to call”, says Cazale.

Asian banter too. We just keep a low profile (many felt right at home behind a mask during covid). Don’t make waves. Don’t dance and don’t go to bars for Bachelor party, not in today’s Minneapolis or Detroit.

If you made movies, be sure to work from your characterization out, one layer of onion at a time. Use mirror, use powder, use lighting and make up. Kung Fu, Rich Asian series, and Macarena will fad out. Just look at how hard it has been for Bollywood to make a trek to Hollywood. In Rush Hour or any hour.

My advice. Just drop it. Good riddance to John Yang of PBS weekend. Nice work of journalism, of public service and quite a visible platform at that.

Rest of us and rest of the time. Until we prosper and are more confident in our inner make up and outward expression. It’s called group branding. This time, without the hood over our head. Another earlier group already claimed the IP rights to it. Just check with Asian American in the early 80’s, in Detroit or the Gulf Coast. BTW, yours truly was so clueless, that upon re-entry from Relief work, I tried out for the role only to find out they were searching for a younger more “clueless” guy to cast opposite of Ed Harris (descendant of KKK).

Oh well, back to viewing instead of being on screen. Where else but at Cinema Purgatory. Alone, in front of the screen, again, naturally.