We all crave human connection, and if we are lucky enough, this will come from our relationship with our family, whether one into which we are born, adopted or a more informal structure built around lifelong friendships that are akin to actually being a part of a functional family, even without the presence of more official connections. Yet, there can often be complications that emerge in even the most ironclad of situations, which is why it is always better not to take these friendships for granted, since one never knows what complications can emerge over time. This is the core of The Wedding Banquet, Andrew Ahn’s lovely remake of Ang Lee’s delightful romantic comedy of the same name, which is here adapted by the director, alongside James Schamus, who had previously written the original film on which this one was based. The premise is simple – Lee and Angela are a lesbian couple who have just begun to settle into their adult lives: they live in the former’s beautiful suburban home in Seattle, both have promising careers and are just about ready to expand their family, their hopes of finally having an successful IVF treatment that will bring them a child, which would only help strengthen their bond. Their friends are Chris and Min, the former more straight-laced than his free-spirited boyfriend. However, despite his happy-go-lucky persona, Min is struggling at home: his grandmother (and sponsor of all of his artistic endeavours) decides that it is time for her grandson to grow up, returning to his native South Korea to run his family’s business. No one back home knows that Min is gay, especially not his bigoted grandfather, who would disown him if this information became public. With his grandmother en route to the United States, and a group of well-meaning but clumsy friends, Min tries his best to cover his tracks just long enough for suspicion to die down, but his grandmother proves to be far more shrewd than anyone initially imagined. A heartwarming and funny romantic comedy that delivers exactly what it promises, being neither an improvement nor a downgrade from the previous film, but rather a pleasant lateral move that proves that these themes still resonate, even a quarter of a century later.

Despite the original film being made over three decades ago, there are some themes embedded in The Wedding Banquet that are still very much relevant. This is a story of the intersection between culture and desire, two mutually exclusive concepts that can come together to create harmony when given the time and appropriate amount of sensitivity. Ahn has gradually established himself as one of the essential voices when it comes to stories that tackle both queer themes and issues surrounding the Asian-American community, with every one of his small handful of films (which tend to range in genre and approach) tackling them both in some form, even if in a slightly more subtle manner. His focus is not to introduce these topics or to make the definitive examination of the subjects, but rather smaller, more intricate demonstrations of the day-to-day lives of people who exist within these communities, particularly in how they seek out friendships that not only serve the social purpose, but also provide them with support that they crave from families that simply aren’t able to provide it in the way that they should. This is a fascinating conversation that forms the foundation for The Wedding Banquet, which is built around the subject of chosen families, and how they are integral to the lives of many queer people struggling with their own biological families, a topic that remains contentious and important to explore, especially in an era where so many members of the LGBTQIA+ community feel entirely rejected and alienated from their families, seeking a sense of community elsewhere in the hopes of feeling that elusive sense of belonging. Ahn is not interested in being definitive – if anything, his approach is to keep everything as simple and nuanced as possible, showing us a single chapter in the lives of a small group of friends, none of whom are entirely remarkable or noteworthy, but still have stories that are worth telling. It never feels impelled to do too much with an already very simple premise, and it’s in choosing to remain as straightforward and elegant as it can that truly makes The Wedding Banquet a special little film.

One area in which this version of The Wedding Banquet differs from the original is in the casting – Lee’s film had a solid cast with some genuinely gifted actors, but they were not the focus in the same way that they are here. Ahn enlists a tremendous cast of actors who bring these characters to life with incredible integrity and a genuine affection for them as people, rather than just roles written on the page. Kelly Marie Tran has had a fascinating career, showing her extraordinary talents in a range of films, from small independent fare to major blockbusters, being tremendous in both. Here, she is allowed to be a bit more subtle than she usually is, showing off both her dramatic skills and comedic timing, in the part of a young queer woman trying to find herself in a world that she no longer recognises. Lily Gladstone delivers some of her most fun work yet, taking a break from years of more serious, intense dramatic roles and instead taking on the part of Lee, a freewheeling woman who is entirely in control of her identity, but begins to question her worth as a woman as a result of the continued failure of her and Angela’s attempts to have a child. Across from them is the other central couple, portrayed by Han Gi-chan, in his English-language debut, and Bowen Yang, who reunites with the director after they collaborated on the wonderful Fire Island, which is to date Yang’s strongest performance. Neither of the two are particularly revered actor – in fact, they’re quite limited – but it works in the context of this film. The character of Min is presented as an ideal man, modelled after what many consider to be the perfect “Prince Charming”, someone whose lack of flaws is beyond irresistible, particularly to those who crave perfection. Chris, on the other hand, is a bundle of shortcomings, a man whose insecurities are the primary reason he has struggled to feel accepted. Both actors adapt to these roles well, even if they’re not the strongest. The best performances unsurprisingly come from the two veteran actors in the cast – Joan Chen makes a meal out of every screen appearance, turning a potentially one-dimensional character into one of the film’s most heartwarming presences. Youn Yuh-jung (simply one of the greatest performers of her generation) is astonishing as Min’s grandmother, also taking a character that would have been nothing more than a series of tropes and turning her into a complex, engaging supporting player. The cast of this film is wonderful, each one of them being vital to its success, something that we can see meant a lot to Ahn when it came to adapting this material.

Much like the original film, The Wedding Banquet focuses on the smaller moments of deeply human comedy, being profoundly compassionate and bitingly funny in equal measure. This is where the director places a lot of the most interesting conversations, since the overlap between the endearingly funny and the deeply melancholic is sometimes a powerful place to situate certain subjects. The reality is that this film is not aiming for realism – we’ve become so used to romantic films (especially those centering on queer relationships) striving for authenticity that we often forget the absolute absurdity of the genre in many cases, which means that anything that allows itself to be this heightened and eccentric is going to immediately stand out, especially considering the depth of its themes. However, Ahn has proven himself to be a student of the genre enough to turn this film into something quite special. It may not redefine the genre, but instead actively leans into many of its more obvious tropes, almost as if the director was playfully trying to acknowledge some of these inherent eccentricities, showing how they can easily be applied to a queer story. All too often, we find these films descending into self-pity and bordering on the tragic, which is understandable when we consider the LGBTQIA+ community has always faced challenges that are not often endured by those in heteronormative relationships, so it feels almost a privilege to see something built less around tragedy and more about joy. The Wedding Banquet handles its emotions well, and Ahn proves that he can make something quite mainstream without entirely losing the thoughtfulness and nuance that comes with a more independent production. Ultimately, the film is not afraid to be sentimental, since it knows the importance of pairing this with something more meaningful, rather than just dwelling on the more obvious emotions. It manages to be sincere without becoming too heavy-handed, showing enough restraint to explore these more complex emotions while also having the awareness to know that audiences expect something more from these stories, rather than the same trite, overwrought emotions that we frequently find populating these works.

Perhaps a case can be made for The Wedding Banquet as an entirely unnecessary production in a cinematic landscape where the overwhelming presence of remakes, revivals and reboots is the reason many feel despondent about the future of the medium. However, while we cannot justify its existence (especially since, as well-liked as the original film may be, it isn’t seen as some sacred work – it could have been just as impactful to do a bespoke work, if not even more beneficial since it wouldn’t have had to deal with the legacy of the first film), we can also acknowledge that it is doing more good than harm in both concept and execution. It’s not very often we find mainstream comedies headlined by people of colour, especially when they are tackling themes relating to queer identity, culture and family, all of which are always worth discussing. The film is not innovative or inventive beyond the bare minimum, and it actually seems to follow a familiar formula closer than many modern romantic comedies – but ultimately what it lacks in originality (especially as a relatively faithful adaptation, at least in terms of the story arc and the underlying conversations) it more than makes up for in heart and soul, which is the primary currency this film deals in, which makes perfect sense considering what it is saying and the manner in which it goes about communicating these ideas. It’s a fascinating work, even if we find more value in taking it at face value as a contemporary queer comedy, more than looking at it as a work of adaptation (which proves to be only marginally interesting), which can depreciate its value in some ways. However, this all just becomes a matter of determining how much of what this film is doing works for each viewer individually, and what could have been improved with some slight tinkering. Overall, it’s a strong film that serves a very particular purpose and ultimately proves to be mostly entertaining and moving, anchored by a fantastic cast, a good screenplay and a director who strives to find meaning in everything, even in those moments that did not need deeper analysis. It’s not a masterpiece, but as a solid 100-minute romantic comedy as well as a queer story, The Wedding Banquet is nonetheless a delight, both formally and in terms of its underlying conversations.