One group of people who have never had it easy in the United States are the immigrants who come here to seek a better life, whether they are of Latino or Asian descent, only to be met with racism, xenophobia, prejudice, and racism-all unfortunate facts of life. Assimilation of "The Other" has always produced uneasy acceptance even in the best of times; and in recent tines, that ugly side of America was practically put on steroids. But America's immigration laws were broken and made antiquated long ago, and they have not been updated for decades. This is where writer/director Justin Chon's 2021 drama BLUE BAYOU comes in.
Chon, who co-produced the movie and, prior to this, was known also as an actor (in 2008's TWILIGHT and 2010's TWILIGHT SAGA: ECLIPSE), stars as Antonio LeBlanc, a Korean immigrant with a Spanish first name and a French-Canadian surname living in a small town on the outskirts of New Orleans, working as a local tattoo artist and a noted rider of motorcycles. He has what seems on the surface a very "charmed" life, with a wife (Alicia Virkander), a young daughter (Sydney Kowalske) whom he inherited from Virkander's previous husband, and another one on the way. But a run-in with members of New Orleans' finest at a local market results in him getting arrested; and, before he knows it, because of a previous run-in with the law and having been brought in under different immigration laws in 1988, now faces deportation from the United States. He is put into detention by the Immigration and Customs Enforcement, before being released; but in the meantime, deportation still hangs over his head, as does the forced abandonment of Virkander and Kowalske to Virkander's ex (Mark O'Brien), one of the cops he had the run-in with in the market. Chon and Virkander consult with a local New Orleans immigration lawyer (Vondie Curtis-Hall) who advises him to get folks in his immediate circle who can vouch for his being worthy. But in his desperation, he not only has to confront the ghosts of his past, but the realities of having had a criminal record; so having good familial references may not be enough to have him.
In the meantime, he and Virkander try very hard to associate with other Asian members of the New Orleans community, many of them refugees not only from Korea but also from Vietnam, two nations basically torn apart by American between 1950 and 1975. This includes a gathering in which Virkander is invited onto a stage to perform a rendition of the classic 1963 Roy Orbison song "Blue Bayou", a song made into an even bigger hit in 1977 by Linda Ronstadt. But the strain between Chon and Virkander is extremely palpable because of Chon's failure to be honest with Virkander about his past and his unfortunate criminal present.
Chon, who was actually born in America to Korean parents, wrote the screenplay after having heard of similar horror stories of Korean émigrés who got caught up in the often-confused and definitively broken American immigration system. And although he may not have gotten everything exactly right about the particulars of those immigration laws, he did get at least a couple of unfortunate things correct, such as the prejudice people like him who were born overseas, taken into America, and then adapted, tend to face, particularly in the South, even in a highly cosmopolitan polyglot of a city like New Orleans. He also gives us vivid depictions of how Korean and Vietnamese émigrés display their cultures living out in the swampy bayous that occupy much of the Louisiana landscape. Virkander, who won a Best Supporting Actress Oscar in 2015 for her role in THE DANISH GIRL, and had appeared in the weird 2014 psychosexual sci-fi film EX MACHINA, is also riveting as his sympathetic life; and Kowalske also impresses in her debut as Chon's and Virkander's daughter, who is horrified at the reality of her adapted father being expelled from America because of a whole series of unfortunate circumstances.
Despite the often graphic language, much of it racially charged (though appropriately so), and the violence (though not gratuitous in any way), BLUE BAYOU, thanks to Chon's efforts on both sides of the camera and Virkander's performance (especially when she sings the classic song the film is named after), is an often moving and touching story about the immigrant experience in late 20th/early 21st century America. It is also, sadly enough, an all-too-American story as well, one that far too many of us who were actually born here still don't acknowledge exists in our post-9/11 world.
Chon, who co-produced the movie and, prior to this, was known also as an actor (in 2008's TWILIGHT and 2010's TWILIGHT SAGA: ECLIPSE), stars as Antonio LeBlanc, a Korean immigrant with a Spanish first name and a French-Canadian surname living in a small town on the outskirts of New Orleans, working as a local tattoo artist and a noted rider of motorcycles. He has what seems on the surface a very "charmed" life, with a wife (Alicia Virkander), a young daughter (Sydney Kowalske) whom he inherited from Virkander's previous husband, and another one on the way. But a run-in with members of New Orleans' finest at a local market results in him getting arrested; and, before he knows it, because of a previous run-in with the law and having been brought in under different immigration laws in 1988, now faces deportation from the United States. He is put into detention by the Immigration and Customs Enforcement, before being released; but in the meantime, deportation still hangs over his head, as does the forced abandonment of Virkander and Kowalske to Virkander's ex (Mark O'Brien), one of the cops he had the run-in with in the market. Chon and Virkander consult with a local New Orleans immigration lawyer (Vondie Curtis-Hall) who advises him to get folks in his immediate circle who can vouch for his being worthy. But in his desperation, he not only has to confront the ghosts of his past, but the realities of having had a criminal record; so having good familial references may not be enough to have him.
In the meantime, he and Virkander try very hard to associate with other Asian members of the New Orleans community, many of them refugees not only from Korea but also from Vietnam, two nations basically torn apart by American between 1950 and 1975. This includes a gathering in which Virkander is invited onto a stage to perform a rendition of the classic 1963 Roy Orbison song "Blue Bayou", a song made into an even bigger hit in 1977 by Linda Ronstadt. But the strain between Chon and Virkander is extremely palpable because of Chon's failure to be honest with Virkander about his past and his unfortunate criminal present.
Chon, who was actually born in America to Korean parents, wrote the screenplay after having heard of similar horror stories of Korean émigrés who got caught up in the often-confused and definitively broken American immigration system. And although he may not have gotten everything exactly right about the particulars of those immigration laws, he did get at least a couple of unfortunate things correct, such as the prejudice people like him who were born overseas, taken into America, and then adapted, tend to face, particularly in the South, even in a highly cosmopolitan polyglot of a city like New Orleans. He also gives us vivid depictions of how Korean and Vietnamese émigrés display their cultures living out in the swampy bayous that occupy much of the Louisiana landscape. Virkander, who won a Best Supporting Actress Oscar in 2015 for her role in THE DANISH GIRL, and had appeared in the weird 2014 psychosexual sci-fi film EX MACHINA, is also riveting as his sympathetic life; and Kowalske also impresses in her debut as Chon's and Virkander's daughter, who is horrified at the reality of her adapted father being expelled from America because of a whole series of unfortunate circumstances.
Despite the often graphic language, much of it racially charged (though appropriately so), and the violence (though not gratuitous in any way), BLUE BAYOU, thanks to Chon's efforts on both sides of the camera and Virkander's performance (especially when she sings the classic song the film is named after), is an often moving and touching story about the immigrant experience in late 20th/early 21st century America. It is also, sadly enough, an all-too-American story as well, one that far too many of us who were actually born here still don't acknowledge exists in our post-9/11 world.