A documentary about Asian-American rappers. I found interesting the interplay between the hypermascinilised rap culture with the demasculinised racial stereotype of Asian men in a search for authentic representation of masculine identity. Side by side to that, Awkwafina has to go into that world where the stereotype for Asian women is massively sexualized, and the rap culture is pervasively misogynistic, and still be the Smurfette of the group. It’s a constant assembling and disassembling of gender, race and class to create a true voice.
This is one of the few feature-length documentaries I’ve seen where I didn’t actually like how the documentary itself was made. It went on the defensive from the outset and stayed there far too long, gave little or no background to some of its main players, and seemed to lose focus, descending into a prolonged advert. While it’s definitely right that it showcase talent, it became muddled in its boundaries and could have done with reeling in.
That showing was full of weirdies too. One guy, I shit you not, came in, lay down on the floor, took off his jumper and started humming loudly. At first I was fucking envious, until I looked up from my phone to find him staring at me from between the crack in the seats. Get back Van Mattress!
Luckily he left 20 minutes into the movie so I didn’t have to call for an adult.