“I was born during the hardest season—in the season of Fire,” a voiceover in Caylee So’s “The Harvest” narrates. “But where there’s destruction, there’s birth.” The movie, written by and starring Doua Moua, is an earnest and pointed commentary about the struggles of an Asian-American family; as well as the generational divide present that wedges the disconnect even further.
When Family Remains the Only Binding Thing Between Father and Son
“The Harvest” introduces the audience to Thai (Moua), who gets a call from his mother Youa (Dawn Ying Yuen) to come home and visit Thai’s ailing father Cher (Perry Yung). Thai, apparently living separately and away from the family, acquiesces to her request despite displaying a visible discomfort with the situation.
The dinner scene in the film’s first 10 minutes provides the audiences with enough subtext to understand the disconnect among the family. While Youa and his sister Sue (Chrisna Chhor) take interest in Thai’s love life, Cher doesn’t participate. He instead asks about his son’s profession and chastises him when Thai reveals that he stopped tutoring sometime ago and taking up work in a restaurant.
Youa later on tells Thai that Cher’s kidney failure meant “more and more dialysis.” And now that her son is home, Youa tasks Thai to accompany Cher to twice-a-week dialysis sessions. This, exacerbated by the patriarch’s stubbornness to refuse treatment, complicates matters.
And for someone who has come to terms with knowing that blood relationship is all that binds him and his ailing father, Thai faces a real conundrum ahead.
Related Review: ‘Baba’ is an Offbeat Short Film About Generational Divide and Disconnect in Familial Relationships
Conflict of Values Shaped by Tradition and Customs
“Don’t you want to make your family proud?” This question that Cher asks Thai exemplifies the typical parental expectations of their children. And in the Asian-American context, that challenge could be tenfold.
In the past few years, audiences have been treated to critically acclaimed films that touch upon the Asian-American identity and the clashes it entails, especially among family members. Movies like “The Big Sick” and, more recently, “Everything Everywhere All at Once” provide viewers with the realities Asian immigrants have to deal with every day.
This brings us to the topic of tradition. “The Harvest” makes it clear that some customs, while effective in the olden days and a non-negotiable way of life, might not be foolproof in the long run. In fact, this waning connection to their roots explains the divide between Thai and Cher.
One of those customs the film sheds light on is arranged marriage, something that many Asian countries and cultures still practice. In an earlier scene, Thai teases Sue for the latter’s seeming interest in her friend, who’s Black. Thai remarks that Cher, should he know about his daughter dating a Black guy, would probably marry her off right away with the first Hmong guy Cher sees.
On the Merits of the Film’s Casting Choices
For all its melodramatic tendencies, it’s So’s direction that ultimately elevates the film. There are several things “The Harvest” gets right, and chief among these involves the casting. For one, it’s easy to root against a problematic patriarch in a film when the actor portraying him doesn’t exude subtextual nuance. After all, here’s an old man who has hated everything around him for so long for what he perceives as their shortcomings, now beginning to hate himself for his own. Frankly, Cher’s stubbornness is a regular Tuesday among old people looking for purpose to go on despite their advanced age.
By casting Perry Yung as Cher, the character becomes a sympathetic individual, albeit deeply flawed (and still problematic). Nonetheless, the viewers get to understand where he’s coming from, even if his worldview and expectations for his family have not kept abreast of the ever-changing times.
The movie also benefits from Dawn Ying Yuen as Youa. Her portrayal as a long-suffering wife earns the consternation of her children, but the actress doesn’t resort to a performance that reeks utter subservience. Instead, the film gradually reveals that Youa also has deep-seated frustrations and disappointments that she has simply compartmentalized for so long, out of respect for tradition.
Finally, while his screenplay is something I admire about the film, Moua’s performance here might be the weakest link. As the central character shaped by his upbringing and with a secret he keeps from his family, Moua’s Thai could have been more expressive and less stoic. And when one considers that So’s direction attempts to tug at the heartstrings, such emotionality would have been a much, much welcome surprise.
‘The Harvest’: Why an Asian Perspective is Imperative for the Film
A profile for the director reveals that So was born to parents who had just fled the killing fields of the Khmer Rouge. This, along with her life experiences, gave So a broader perspective for filmmaking as a medium to process the experiences of not only herself, but also her family.
As an Asian moviegoer, I appreciate that the cast and crew for “The Harvest” consisted of at least 80% women and Southeast Asian individuals behind and in front of the camera. This diversity, led by So’s tender direction, is imperative to tell a story this pointed and personal. It might be a little too earnest for its own good, sure. Nevertheless, its juxtaposition of culture and tradition between generations in today’s Asian-American experience is something that demands the viewers’ attention.
