yellow
fellas
Written by, directed by, and
starring Tetsuro Shigematsu
I was
introduced to Yellow Fellas by my friend Randall Mulrooney. I was in
Montreal to attend the Fantasia Film Festival. If you’ve never been, you’ve just got to go. I’ve been to more than a few film festivals
and this one was the best by far. Since,
as I’ve already established, I’m an affable fellow, I was talking up people at
the after-party at the Irish Embassy. I
met a great guy named Rupert Bottenberg, who invited
me to come back to his table to drink with him and his friends. There I met Randall and Caroline. Randall asked me if I had seen “Yellow Fellas” and said that he played one of the skinheads in the
film.
I
admitted that I had not seen it, which is regrettable consequence of the
overwhelming number of films offered at the festival, which features three
theatres running films at the same time.
Randall said that he would bring me a copy at
the reception for French Film-Maker Jean Rollin the following day. Thankfully, Randall is a wonderful and sincere
person and he brought me the DVD which I briefly looked at, then stashed away
with all of the other swag I had gathered at the festival.
It
always takes me a few days to rifle through the swag I bring back from my
movie-geek convention and festival trips. So I didn’t immediately get around to watching
the film. But I made it a point to watch
the film before I e-mailed Randall to ask him to send me the pictures he took
at the festival. I was glad I did.
First,
the back of the DVD case:
“Howie
Hiroshima, an angry young Asian man, picks a fight with two docile Skinheads on
the Metro. In self defense, the skins
reluctantly kick Howie’s skinny ass.
Howie
interprets this beating as a “sign”, a bruising confirmation of what he has
suspected his entire life. That he was
put on this earth to lead his fellow Asians in a revolution to bring down
Whitey.
Amazingly, Howie’s
incandescent anger does indeed attract a small army of young Asian men. Among them is Shelby, a geeky salaryman who discovers his true self in the furnace of Howie’s fiery tirades. Unfortunately, Shelby’s true self turns out to
be a racist, homophobic sociopath.
Howie
creates a monster. A militant so
extreme, he begins to frighten Howie in his devotion to The Movement. Howie’s principals
are more flexible,
As
much as he hates The White Man, he’ll make an exception for White Women. Who will the warriors follow? Howie, their ethically flexible leader?
Or
Shelby, the reborn accountant who is transforming before their very eyes into a
dark star? In the end, Howie gets
exactly what he deserves in a way he could never expect.”
... attractive to both Asian and Non-Asian audiences. The film
is unquestionably Asian positive, but avoids crossing the subtle line to be
exclusively anti-white.
I’m
going to use this synopsis as a point of departure for my review.
It’s
important to establish the difference between Shigematsu, the director, and
Howie, the character he portrays in the film. Shigematsu gracefully accomplishes a
directorial objectivity between himself as a director, and the character he
portrays in the film. His character
Howie is a likeable Asian everyman who feels compelled to finally react to a
lifetime of being viewed as the stereotypical Asian “other”.
As the
lead character, he represents both the director and the audience. Shigematsu insightfully makes Howie’s character an ironic one. Shigematsu introduces Howie as an angry young
man, comically fraught with obvious philosophical contradictions, which it is
easy for the audience to see through, and as such he is a paper tiger,
initially introduced with beliefs so concrete and ideology so extreme that it
is easy to see the contradictions in his thinking. Although the Asian Warriors collective united
to organize a unified, militant opposition to racial oppression by “The White
Man”, Yellow Fellas is an exploration of the conflict
between two Asian men. For the most
part, whites and white racism are a background against which a drama between
Howie and Shelby plays out.
As the
film progresses, Howie displays personal growth and discovery through a gradual
realization that his beliefs about race and racism were much simpler than
reality and that it is easier to espouse a radical philosophy than it is to
live it. The growing intensity of
Shelby’s radicalism inversely mirrors the growing acceptance of Howie, making
the perspective of the lead character increasingly more appealing to the
audience. Shelby’s decline into concrete
“us versus them” dualism is integral to the film, because it makes the growth
of the lead character that much more pronounced in comparison. Shigematsu’s use of
the complimentary pair of Howie and Shelby allows the film to explore two of
the possible progressions of radical reactionary fervor simultaneously.
When
dealing with the topics of race, racism, and contradictory philosophies it’s
easy to adopt a didactic perspective. To
adopt a diametrical perspective of “right versus wrong” and attempt to teach
the audience a lesson by filmic example. The problem with many of the “films with a
message” is that the contradiction of the viewpoints is too clearly defined. It’s like the old cliché of “preaching to the
choir”.
For
example, “Boys Don’t Cry” is a biased argument against the persecution of
homosexuals. It is a sensible argument. Most homophobes would agree that anal rape is
an unnecessarily extreme punishment for the perceived transgression of a woman
putting herself forth as a man. But most
homophobes will not intentionally watch a film like “Boys Don’t Cry”. As soon as they know it’s a riveting story
about a girl dressing like a guy they’re already moving on to something else. Although the brutality the main character is
subjected to was most likely intended to be a commentary on the attitudes of
homophobes with a view to changing those beliefs, the actual audience already
sympathizes with the plight of the homosexuals and swells with righteous
indignation.
Shigematsu avoids the strident, polar,
didactic approach of the “films with a message” genre by infusing the
philosophy of the characters with obvious inconsistencies and explores the
theme of militant reaction to racism in a way that adeptly conveys the idea that
in this film the director, through his characters, is exploring ideas that he
doesn’t personally adhere to. He sets
the premises up to be shot down.
The
fact that Shigematsu was able to accomplish this with style and flair is truly
impressive. Although I think that the
final monologue delivered by Howie in voice-over at the end of the film is an
unnecessary commentary on the social commentary which runs throughout the film.
I
don’t mind the “only love can kill the beast” ending. I am a firm adherent to the idea that beliefs
are like swords, and when a sword is sheathed it is much less dangerous. A lonely man, without anything to lose is much
more dangerous than a man in a positive relationship with a woman. When a man is in a relationship with a woman,
this often quells the radical intensity of his beliefs and behavior. Like Howie says, “yin” to his “yang”.
But
the monologue at the end about changing beliefs seems a bit preachy and
moralistic. Not in the sense of morals
as personal beliefs, but in the sense of, “…and the moral to this story is…”. If, after watching the film and Shigematsu’s often comically extreme direction of the
behavior and beliefs of reactions of the characters, a person is unable to see
that this is a “film with a message” and is unable to understand what the
message was, then this film was probably not for them. They’re probably the kind of people that
watched Fight Club and went out and started their own Fight Club. But more on that later.
There
are other elements of the film which make it particular attractive, to a
general audience, an Asian audience, and a White audience.
The
attraction to the general audience that isn’t necessarily interested in
watching a “film with a message” is the humor the film is infused with. The conflict between Howie and Shelby,
although serious at times is more often infused with humor. The humor is rarely too broad and is an
inclusive send-up of stereotypes about Asian people as explored from an Asian
perspective. This is what makes the film
attractive to both Asian and Non-Asian audiences. The film is unquestionably Asian positive, but
avoids crossing the subtle line to be exclusively anti-white.
Even
with the Shigematsu’s use of “Skinheads” who are
often presented as the poster-children for racism, Shigematsu avoids the
attractiveness of portraying all skinheads as racist bastards, making it a
point to present the skinheads as S.H.A.R.P. skins or SkinHeads
Against Racial Prejudice.
It is
true that the dialogue of the film, when read on paper, contains a large
serving of anti-white sentiment, but the film offers an equal share of anti-Asian
sentiment. Shigematsu gracefully
presents racist viewpoints from both sides of the Asian/White divide and in
addressing both perspectives with equal ironic disdain he reveals the absurdity
of both perspectives simultaneously. Brilliant.
It is
always an unusual treat to see an Asian-positive film. I wonder if Shigematsu struggled with the
difficulty of casting Asians as actors instead of Asians as character actors. It seems that there is a spectrum of the
presentation of Asians in film. The
spectrum begins at the low end with the use of Asians to perpetuate Asian stereotypes
as Chinese restaurant employees, martial arts instructors and Chinese laundry
workers. The spectrum pauses midway
using Asian actors as Asian characters to promote pro-Asian sentiment, like in
“Harold & Kumar go to
The
nature of Shigematsu’s film made race-blind casting impossible.
In a film about the racial division between
whites and Asians, Shigematsu was forced to cast Asians for Asians and whites
for whites. Shigematsu inventively
breaks the lines of skirmish by having Howie pursue a relationship with a white
woman and through the use of the character Ken G. or Kenji as a white Asia-phile who responds to Howie’s
flyers calling for Asian Warriors. Shigematsu plays this device for comic effect
when the Asia-phile knows more about Asian culture
and philosophy than the Asians which respond to the flyers. Shigematsu further exploits this theme by
forcing his characters to learn martial arts from a black instructor
.
Shigematsu avoids the attraction of indulging
in the “noble savage” theme. Often films
created by white film-makers flaunt perpetuate the myth of the “noble savage”,
the concept that the suffering humility of culturally subjugated races bestows
upon them a transcendent nobility. This
is almost universal in American films addressing the slavery which is
regrettably a part of our national history. Blacks in these films are portrayed as
excessively pious to drive home the point that their persecution was unjust. This is an example of the overwhelming didactiveness of the “films with a message” genre.
Shigematsu
avoids this by presenting us with characters with depth and a believable range
of behaviors. Particular to the theme of
this film, Shigematsu explores the conflict that exists within the Asian
community between different ethnicities. This is a quality that is common between
whites and Asians. Although grouped
together by the color of their skin, there is further division along ethnic
differences and the honesty of this portrayal is one of the elements that helps
the film avoid seeming artificially preachy, didactic, or moralistic.
The
formation of a militant group of men united by race with the goal of forcibly
combating the perpetuation of racism is not absurd. At the University of Rhode Island, a group of
black students formed a paramilitary group in response to what was perceived as
a racial injustice published in the college newspaper. The group formed when the consequences levied
upon the editorial staff seemed disproportionate to the indignation felt by the
offended students. The students all wore
white t-shirts and demonstrated in formation on campus and received coverage by
the media, but the heat of their resentment died down as often happens with
revolutionary movements. The business of
everyday life dilutes the intensity of revolutionary fervor.
It
would have been easy to have made the organization of a militant group an Asian
homage to Fight Club. Shigematsu avoids
this by taking a realistic approach to the lack of cohesion which traditionally
appears in any group despite their slogans of solidarity.
I know
people that were inspired by Fight Club to form their own Fight Clubs. These clubs were always short-lived, because
the reality of no rules fighting is far less glamorous than portrayed in the
film. Broken collarbones, shattered
eyebrows and spiral-fractured fingers soon decreased the number of returning
participants. The loosely organized
Fight Clubs lacked the philosophy of Palahniuk’s literary version or Fincher’s
filmic version and the short duration of their existence also negated the
unlikely growth of these groups into counter-cultural terrorist organizations.
Shigematsu avoids the clumsiness and fictional
glamorization of bare-fisted basement fighting and skips straight to the
paramilitary terrorism. But as in Fight
Club, their battle is a spiritual battle, their great depression is their
lives.
Thematic implications aside, Shigematsu’s film displays an admirable technical
proficiency cinematographically. The
shots are well-composed, and the scenes are edited together smoothly. The length of the film is appropriate to the
story, and the lighting design, set design, and musical accompaniment are
complimentary to the theme of the film. Even the audio track for the film is
well-balanced avoiding the inconsistent sound level that can be uncomfortably present
in even major studio pictures. The
acting, although lacking the believability necessary for a serious treatment of
the theme of racism was perfectly suited for a comically flavored exploration
and did not detract from effectiveness of the film.
In closing, I truly enjoyed Yellow Fellas and I am pleased that Tetsuro Shigematsu asked that
I present him with the film’s inaugural review.
Although I admired the film’s graceful manner
of addressing the issue of racial division which continues to be an unfortunate
footnote in the history of human communication, I hope that one day this film
will be a well-crafted anachronism in a world where, to borrow the words of the
Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King Junior, we judge people “not by the color of
their skin, but by the content of their character”
by Scott Lefebvre
scott_lefebvre@hotmail.com