Now on Digital: 'Joy Ride' Is All About Sex, Refreshingly So

By Sara Clements | Film | July 28, 2023 |

By Sara Clements | Film | July 28, 2023 |

I’m not someone who really likes raunchy comedy, and Joy Ride makes the R-rated promise of being raunchy as hell. I get uncomfortable watching these kinds of movies, with a wave of second-hand embarrassment filling me more than laughter. This directorial debut of Crazy Rich Asians co-writer Adele Lim, however, made me laugh (and cry) more than most comedies of this kind do. Written by Cherry Chevapravatdumrong and Teresa Hsiao, Joy Ride proves to be incredibly compelling in the way it balances its comedy with immense heart. Its themes of friendship and identity hit hard and create a viewing experience that can be shared universally. It’s also refreshing representation of Asian people, women in particular, who are often the butt of sexual jokes. Now, they’re the ones telling them.

“The slide is off limits to ching chongs,” a white boy says to two younger Asian girls who only just met seconds earlier. Instead of running back to their parents after this racist confrontation, one of the girls lands a punch right to the boy’s nose. That’s how Lolo (Sherry Cola) sealed her lifelong friendship with Audrey (Ashley Park). Fast forward years later, and the free-spirited Lolo is living in Audrey’s garage and inspiring chaos through her body-positive art. Audrey, on the other hand, is a successful lawyer inspiring her own chaos by being an Asian woman ascending the corporate ladder. Audrey has a shot at becoming a partner at her law firm if she closes a deal in China, so she brings Lolo along with her to Beijing. The pair are joined by Lolo’s very online, BTS-obsessed cousin Deadeye (Sabrina Wu), and meet up in China with Audrey’s ex-college-roommate-turned-actress, Kat (Stephanie Hsu).

What starts out as any old business trip becomes something more for Audrey as she begins tracking down her birth mother. Having been adopted from China by white parents, this is a life-altering chance to find her roots and discover perhaps the most important part of her identity. Of course, the film delivers on its R-rating by interspersing Audrey’s emotional journey with horny, cross-cultural chaos involving threesomes, drugs up various holes, and a K-pop rendition of Cardi B’s “WAP.”

As I said, raunchy comedies aren’t really my thing, so if that’s the case for you, too, then some jokes or scenarios will lead to more discomfort than laughs. Despite that, there are still many laughs to be had and also a lot to admire, like how the film unapologetically tackles the taboo and how it can fuse mile-a-minute comedy with a more profound emotional core. While this fast-paced comedy can sometimes feel like it’s all over the place, it has immense heart. This comes out most in the brilliant performances of the cast and also in their characters’ individual journeys. Along with the strength of friendship and how it can act as the anchor that steers you on course, the theme of identity plays a large part throughout.

A Chinese businessman (played by Ronny Chieng) asks Audrey the question that acts as the moving force for the rest of the film’s narrative: “If you don’t know where you came from, how do you know who you are?” This unknown sees Audrey receiving comments that she’s “basically white” and is accompanied by feelings of not being Asian enough. Being Asian in America also often means being the only non-white person in the room, something Audrey knows all too well at her white-male-dominated office, and this can also lead to feeling like an outcast. As a socially awkward non-binary person, Deadeye knows what it means to feel like an outcast, lonely, opting to seek friendships online for perhaps an easier path to acceptance. Lolo, on the other hand, may be comfortable in her own skin and incredibly passionate about what she does, but she still has the conflict of meeting the expectations of her parents. “I’m sorry I’m not a radiologist,” she yells at them after they scold her for showing Audrey her design of an “adult” park equipt with a dick slide. This fear of disappointing her parents, as well as feeling obligated to help them at their restaurant, can pull her away from who she really is. Kat does exactly that: becoming a different person in order to please her religious, smoking-hot fiance. The script’s examination of the ways people learn about and learn to embrace who they are make Joy Ride incredibly poignant and universal.

Above all, Joy Ride serves as refreshing representation of Asian women in the comedy genre. Exploring their desires feels liberating to watch when you consider that sex has long been taboo in Chinese culture. The film shows how this attitude is changing in the country with millennials. Lolo’s character especially, with her genitalia-inspired art and body-positive messages, displays the evolution from anti-sex to embracing it as something natural. While joyously taking stabs at the taboo, it also marks a shift in how Asian audiences want to be seen onscreen. “We are usually the objects of raunchy sexual jokes that are directed at us. We’re the butt of jokes,” says Nancy Wang Yuen, author of “Reel Inequality: Hollywood Actors and Racism,” in an interview with NBC News. “In this movie, we’re the ones that are telling the jokes.”

Shifting power to have the audience laugh with Asian characters instead of at them has been something that Hollywood has long failed to deliver. With films like Joy Ride demonstrating the results of positive diversity and inclusion, in front of and behind the camera, hopefully this is a sign of changing times.