Although many are worried about the upcoming dearth of scripted content due to Hollywood’s ongoing writers strike, judging by the quality of Asian film and television in recent years, we won’t have to look too far from home for alternatives.
Case in point: the first half of 2023 has already given us an embarrassment of riches coming out of the continent – even beyond the usual realm of anime and K-dramas. From poignant arthouse indies and a blockbuster historical comedy on the big screen, to a tense political thriller and a charming slice-of-life experience on the small screen – NME highlights the 10 best Asian movies and TV shows of the year so far.
– Hidzir Junaini
Top Asian films of 2023 so far:
Return to Seoul (South Korea)
Cambodian-French director Davy Chou’s latest feature isn’t just the best Asian film of the year, it’s the best anywhere in the world. Return to Seoul follows Freddie (Park Ji-min), a 25-year-old Frenchwoman who was adopted from Korea as an infant. On a whim, she visits Seoul for a two-week holiday, sparking a decade-long journey of self-discovery after she seeks out her biological parents. Headstrong, prickly and spirited – this intimate character study of Freddie’s mercurial impulses and quarter-life crisis is richly immersive and compellingly constructed.
This insightful and resonant film is an experiential look at the emotional and psychological toll of displacement and abandonment through the lens of a girl lost between opposing cultures. Like any young adult, Freddie is rife with confusion and contradiction, but Chou captures her lonely odyssey with compassion and sensitivity. Anchored by a star-making performance from Park Ji-min, Return to Seoul is a beautiful and quietly elegiac collage of the hazy in-betweenness of identity.
Monster (Japan)
Acclaimed auteur Hirokazu Kore-eda returns to his homeland for his first Japanese-language feature since 2018’s Shoplifters won the Palme d’Or. His latest is yet another gently devastating, humanist masterpiece, brimming with the tender melancholy and emotional messiness of ordinary life. Monster centres around widowed laundry worker Saori (Sakura Ando), her young son Minato (Soya Kurokawa), and his shady teacher Mr. Hori (Eita Nagayama). When Minato begins acting strangely, an upset Saori confronts Mr. Hori, suspecting some sort of abuse in school.
Told from the perspectives of its trio of main characters, this non-linear narrative is essentially three mini-movies in one. The film may be titled Monster but Kore-eda has never been one for such judgmental terms. Each segment – a horror about a single mother’s fears, a black comedy about a teacher dealing with institutional failure, and a bittersweet tale of bullying and fragile friendship – recontextualises who the “monster” of the piece really is. As Monster’s chronology keeps circling back to colour in missing information, the viewer understands that context is key. Perhaps our innate tendency to assume the worst in people makes monsters of us all.
In My Mother’s Skin (Philippines, Singapore, Taiwan)
‘In My Mother’s Skin’. Credit: Sundance Institute
Set in the Philippines during the waning days of World War II, In My Mother’s Skin is a fantasy-horror allegory that feels like the Pinoy version of Pan’s Labyrinth. The film follows 14-year-old Tala (Felicity Kyle Napuli), who lives with her wealthy family in their country mansion. Fearing for the safety of her father, who flees when Japanese occupiers accuse him of stealing gold, and the health of her bedridden mother, Tala feels helpless and alone within her isolated forest manor. Desperate, Tala places her trust in a beguiling fairy (Jasmine Curtis-Smith) who promises to protect her.
Unbeknownst to Tala, the fairy is actually a ravenous, flesh-eating monster who desires to consume them all. This gruesome, blood-soaked fable is a child’s-eye-view of being terrorised and traumatised by forces beyond her control – whether they be supernatural or man-made atrocities. Frightening, nightmarish and brutal, Kenneth Dagatan’s dread-filled film excavates historical, religious, folkloric and colonial horrors to deliver a spine-tingling experience that will certainly get under your skin.
Full River Red (China)
If you’re a fan of Armando Iannucci’s black comedies such as The Death of Stalin, then this Chinese historical blockbuster might be right up your alley. Full River Red chronicles a mystery set in the 12th century, during the Song Dynasty era. Backdropped by the Jin people’s brewing rebellion against the Imperial Court, a crucial diplomatic meeting between the Song Prime Minister Qin Hui (Lei Jiayin) and a high-level Jin delegation is thrown into chaos when the Jin Ambassador is murdered. The search for the culprit unravels a conspiracy as unlikely alliances are formed and secrets are revealed.
Partly an acidic and mordant political comedy and partly a riveting whodunnit, Full River Red is a robust and labyrinthian film that’s full of twists and turns. Directed by Zhang Yimou (Hero, The Great Wall), this 159-minute film zips along thanks to its marvellous rotating cast, unpredictable beats, snappy dialogue and off-kilter punchlines. Its perpetually escalating murder mystery is a joy to watch (and figure out), especially when the palace intrigue is complemented by the kind of gallows humour that the Coen Brothers would be proud of.
Hunger (Thailand)
The dark side of the culinary industry seems to be all the rage these days, with arthouse films like The Menu and Pig alongside prestige streaming shows like The Bear garnering significant critical and awards buzz. But even amongst that crowded field, Hunger still manages to stand out and satiate your cravings for more foodie drama. Sitisiri Mongkolsiri’s film stars Chutimon Chuengcharoensukying as Aoy, a street food cook working at her father’s stir-fry noodle joint. However, fortunes change for Aoy when she’s invited to join Hunger, the country’s leading fine-dining private chef team led by the famed Chef Paul (Nopachai Chaiyanam).
Although working under Thailand’s most acclaimed chef seems like a dream come true, Aoy quickly realises that Paul is a temperamental tyrant akin to Terence Fletcher from Whiplash. His nasty demeanour and obsession with perfection lend themselves to the toxic, high-stress working conditions of his kitchen. Aoy struggles between her moral compass and her desire for Paul’s validation, her sweet and sour conundrum seasoned with spicy themes tackling ambition and class divides. This visually stunning psychological thriller is a tasty treat indeed.
Top Asian TV of 2023 so far:
Aggretsuko (Japan)
Who could have thought that such a subversive, feminist gem could come from a cute anime based on a Sanrio character? For the past four seasons, this workplace comedy centering around the stresses of an office lady red panda has transcended its adorable, kiddy veneer to address some very grown-up issues. Dealing with misogyny, harassment, gossipy colleagues, toxic fandom and overwork, our main character Retsuko can only cope with the anxieties of contemporary life by screaming death metal during karaoke.
Aggretsuko’s fifth and final season presents an outstanding conclusion to Retsuko’s journey, crystallising what she means to fans. Her relationship with boyfriend Haida is on the rocks after the recently retrenched hyena spends all his time and money on a gacha MMORPG. On the flip side, Retsuko’s death metal theatrics have gone viral, capturing the attention of a progressive political party that sees her as the perfect candidate for the county’s next elections. As a broke Haida struggles to find a job in the current economy, and Retsuko becomes a novice politician running on a labour rights platform, Aggretsuko fittingly ends with funny yet painfully relatable stories about Japan’s work culture on both micro and macro scales.
The Glory (South Korea)
If revenge is a dish best served cold, then the just desserts served up in The Glory will give you the sweetest kind of brain freeze. This darkly gratifying K-drama tells the story of Moon Dong-eun (Song Hye-kyo), a high-school girl who was cruelly and violently bullied as a teen, leaving behind deep physical and mental scars. Seventeen years later, an adult Dong-eun is finally ready to make her perpetrators pay for their sins by enacting an elaborate revenge plot that involves becoming the homeroom teacher for one of her bullies’ children.
While part one thrust you into Dong-eun’s trauma and ramps up tensions as she methodically puts her plan in place, this second part escalates the series’ theme of hate and rage when her bullies slowly realise what Dong-eun has done. As justified as Dong-eun’s wrath is, and as satisfying as it is to watch her bullies squirm, the cunning lengths she goes to can be awfully twisted. Like a modern-day version of The Count of Monte Cristo, Dong-eun’s vengeance is all-consuming, so it’s up for the viewer to decide whether her punishment-porn crosses the line. Either way, The Glory is certainly one of the most gripping shows on TV.
Induk Gajah (Indonesia)
Adapted from the work of journalist Iragita Natalia Sembiring, Induk Gajah (‘Mother Elephant’) is based on the real-life story of Ira (played here by Marshanda), a 30-year-old woman living with an overbearing mother named Mamak Uli (Tika Panggabean), who constantly criticises Ira’s weight and inability to find a husband. It’s not that Ira is opposed to marriage per se – she’s willing to settle down if she finds true love – but she simply wants to lead a happy life free from societal burdens dictating her life decisions.
Tired of being hounded, Ira pretends to accept her mum’s offer to play matchmaker. Enter Marsel (Dimas Anggara), the son of one of Mamak Uli’s church friends. But since neither one of them wants an arranged marriage, the pair hatch a ruse, using the pretext of getting to know each other to buy themselves more time to find their right partners. The challenges facing our protagonists in this charming family comedy may be steeped in Batak customs, but its story of facing parental and societal pressure is entirely universal. Ultimately, Muhadkly Acho’s eight-episode series is a fresh and funny sitcom with plenty of heart and intelligence.
Wave Makers (Taiwan)
While we certainly enjoyed Netflix’s Queenmaker, a sensationalised K-drama about cutthroat female political players in South Korea, a much better East Asian show in the same realm debuted on the streaming platform just a couple of weeks later. Entitled Wave Makers, this Taiwanese series is a more grounded and realistic take on politics, focusing on the hardworking staffers who manage the ins and outs of electoral campaigns. The story follows Weng Wen-fang (Hsieh Ying-hsuan), an out-and-proud lesbian staffer working in the press department for opposition party candidate Lin Yue-zhen (Tammy Lai Pei-hsia).
When Wen-fang isn’t trying to appease a fickle public or coming up with public relations strategies, her team is busy finding deficits within the current administration. One scandal they expose is that the sitting president’s running mate, Chao Chang-ze (Leon Dai Li-jen), has a history of sexual harassment allegations. Although this plot made headlines for sparking a real-life #MeToo movement in Taiwan, the series also engages in pertinent debates about environmental, energy, immigration and LGBTQ issues, while also showcasing how the strain of managing public discourse around these important topics can ruin the staffers’ personal lives.
The Makanai: Cooking for the Maiko House (Japan)
Adapted from the manga Maiko-san Chi no Makanai-san by Aiko Koyama, this cosy and heartwarming show follows Sumire (Natsuki Deguchi) and her best friend Kiyo (Nana Mori) over the course of one year, as the two teens leave their hometown of Aomori to fulfil their dreams of become apprentice maiko (geisha in training). Upon arriving at Saku house in Kyoto, where they will be trained, the awkward Kiyo is disheartened to learn that despite her hard work and persistence, she isn’t as talented at being a maiko as the graceful Sumire. She can’t hold a flower straight, drum on time, dance competently, or even say the traditional maiko greeting.
Just as she’s about to flunk out, the cheerful girl finally discovers her calling in the kitchen when she becomes entranced by the work of Sachiko, the house’s makanai (cook). After Sachiko sustains a back injury, Sumire takes over as the makanai for Saku house, earning rave reviews for her exemplary culinary skills from her former peers and the elder heads of the household. Unlike other scripted shows about cooking in recent times, this sweet, slice-of-life series from Hirokazu Kore-eda (his second entry in this list) is a serene joy, exploring how young girls find camaraderie and purpose within a supportive all-women community.
