‘The Wedding Banquet’ Review: Bowen Yang, Lily Gladstone and Kelly Marie Tran Lead Sweet if Not Always Snappy Queer Rom-Com Update

A lot has changed in queer culture and visibility since 1993, notably marriage equality and expanded LGBTQ parenting rights, even if the threat of legislative challenges from conservatives could mean more change, this time of a regressive nature. Repositioning a movie from more than three decades ago about queer sexuality, coupledom and family for today is no straightforward task. But director Andrew Ahn and his co-writer James Schamus, who filled that same role on Ang Lee’s beloved original, have cooked up a clever contemporary reimagining that honors the source while opening it up to all sorts of new realities.

What the second iteration of The Wedding Banquet does specifically for this precarious moment is not just add fresh fizz to the romance and comedy but also reaffirm the fundamental right to love who we love and celebrate the warm embrace of the chosen queer family. Funny and poignant in equal measure, the comedy of manners does sag here and there, with a noticeable energy dip around the two-thirds mark. But the winning cast are able to steer it back on track before the irresistibly sweet conclusion.

A key variation on the story is the expansion from one gay couple to two, along with shifting it from New York to Seattle. Chris (Bowen Yang) has put grad school on hold and is working as a guide on walking tours for birders. His partner of five years, Min (Han Gi-Chan), is the scion of a Korean multinational corporation, in the U.S. on a student visa that’s about to expire, just as his work in textile art is starting to get attention. They rent the garage of a family home owned by Indigenous community organizer Lee (Lily Gladstone) and her partner Angela (Kelly Marie Tran), who’s also Chris’ best friend from college — and for a hot minute in freshman year before they both came out, his girlfriend.

We meet Angela and Lee during an LGBTQ organization dinner at which Angela’s boundaryless mother May (Joan Chen) is being presented with a Queer Ally Award. Angela’s livid face during May’s speech about giving her daughter all the love and support she needed from the start hints at revisionist family history. Angela is even more furious when her mother tells another guest that Lee is pregnant and she’s soon to be a grandmother, despite having specifically been told to say nothing.

The nurturer in the relationship, Lee desperately wants a child, but when her second attempt to conceive with IVF treatment doesn’t stick, the couple faces the reality that a third try might be financially out of reach. Even if they could scrape together the money, Lee worries that her age might be a factor. But when she suggests that her partner, who’s younger, should try, Angela makes it clear that motherhood was never her goal.

If Angela has mother issues, Chris has commitment issues. Min is being pressured by his sternly matriarchal grandmother (Minari Oscar winner Youn Yuh-Jung) to return to Korea and take on the position of creative director for a major fashion division the company has just acquired.

Min swears the idea was already in his head and the Cartier ring already purchased before the video call from his grandmother (his parents died seven years earlier), but it no doubt hastened his intention to propose to Chris. When Chris says he isn’t ready and doesn’t want the responsibility of his partner’s family cutting him off financially, Min is shattered. But he rallies by proposing to Angela instead, offering to pay for Lee’s IVF treatment in exchange for being able to stay in the country.

Min’s grandmother is instantly skeptical when he shares news of his impending marriage. She flies to Seattle with no warning to see for herself if her grandson’s fiancée is a gold-digger. One of the funniest sequences involves the frenetic efforts of Chris, Lee and Angela to “de-queer” the house in the 45 minutes or so it will take a very nervous Min to drive his grandmother from the airport. Items removed include a copy of Elliot Page’s memoir, a Blu-Ray of Portrait of a Lady on Fire and a framed Lilith Fair poster.

While Tran is the standout of the four principals, given the bumpiest arc to navigate, this is a uniformly appealing ensemble, and both couples secure our emotional investment in them getting over their differences. But the veterans steal every scene they are in.

It’s a pleasure to see Chen (so good in last year’s Sundance hit, Didi) in a rare comedy role. May’s slight distaste is priceless when Angela’s wedding plan takes her by surprise: “My own daughter, marrying a man!” And I chuckled at May sparking the interest of Min’s grandmother in attending a PFLAG meeting.

Youn (also seen recently in Pachinko) is delightful, especially when her shrewd character dismantles the ruse in five minutes. “Are you all stupid?” she asks the four of them, after referring to Angela as “a lesbian snake.” An unapologetic snob, the grandmother’s first question about Angela on an earlier call is, “Who are her family?” One of the biggest laughs comes later when she asks Chris the same question about his parents and learns they are in Kansas. “Hmm, The Wizard of Oz,” she responds. “Many white people.” The grandmother’s refusal to let her limited command of English diminish her authority is divine.

The changes in the attitudes of both older women as they get a complete picture add another layer of warmth to the movie, which is as much about family dynamics as romantic love or sexuality. Building families and protecting their legacies are significant themes, the latter notably in Lee’s reluctance to risk the heavily mortgaged house that her father bought to keep them on Duwamish land. (There’s almost a Tales of the City community vibe to the house and its large garden.)

Perhaps unsurprisingly after the excitement and color of the traditional pre-wedding Pyebaek ceremony, the buoyancy deflates as both couples go through the required rom-com rift and are separated for a while. Min walks off after becoming convinced Chris doesn’t see a future with him (Yang plays his character’s sadness and disappointment in himself with touching sincerity) and Lee feels betrayed after an unforeseen development comes to light, the result of a drunken evening.

But the generosity of spirit Ahn and Schamus bring to their characters inevitably pulls you back in, just in time for the not-unpredictable but no-less-amusing-for-it epilogue. Even if the pacing falters for a spell as it detours into melodrama, this is an otherwise breezy movie with plenty of charm. It’s not as consistently funny as Ahn’s last feature, Fire Island, but it’s a good time.