SUNDANCE 2023 | Movie Review: "Shortcomings"; Textbook/Graphic Novel Narcissism
10/12 ForReel Score | 4/5 Stars
The narcissist considers themself the main character in life’s story. When it comes to films, and the characters around which films are constructed, there is bound to be a degree of inherent narcissism, but choosing to shape a film around an abhorrent narcissist, while still making that film palatable—neigh, entertaining—can be a tricky feat.
Enter actor-turned-director Randall Park, and graphic novelist-turned-screenwriter Adrian Tomine. The two Asian-American artists have risen to varying degrees of prominence over the past years, and have every right to lean into a bit of their own narcissism at this stage in their careers. While at Sundance introducing his new film project, Shortcomings, Park even spoke on his intense desire to be universally adored, and how this desire was at the fore of his mind when it came to reception of his feature debut. His apprehension has no-doubt been heightened by the risks laden in his project’s source material.
The source is Tomine’s graphic novel, also called “Shortcomings,” which Tomine himself has adapted for the screen. It’s a story constructed around the epitome of a narcissistic asshole, a character Tomine invented back in the aughts when he was looking to transition from short format comic writing to longer novelizations. Upon the novel’s publication, Tomine explained to the New Yorker that the artistic shift was undertaken because it allowed him more time to understand and redeem someone so unlikable. Make no mistake, though—the novel does not shape itself via a broad redemption arc, and its tone is predominantly cynical. But as is understood in many critics circles: a story that teaches you to empathize ultimately serves you to narcissistic ends.
Image courtesy of Sundance Institute
In other words, Tomine’s “Shortcomings” works because its protagonist is so fiercely narcissistic—this is what leads us to reflect on our own shortcomings, question what is being said, and more actively engage with the story.
When it comes to Park’s film, Tomine’s story arrives basically unaltered—albeit, with some updated technologies, references, and representation politics. Its main character, too, is line-for-line what Tomine penned in his book, though embodied by emerging star Justin H. Min, who, admittedly, brings more natural warmth to the role.
The role is that of one Ben Tanaka, a Japanese-American film school dropout who works as a movie theatre manager in Berkeley, California, and lives in the fabulous apartment owned by the father of his girlfriend, Miko (Ally Maki). He spends his evenings on the couch with Criterion DVDs, while ignoring his girlfriend’s invitations to join her in bed, and he spends his days pining after other women he can’t have—namely, white, blonde-haired women, whom Miko has come to recognize as his “type.” Suffice to say, it is not the strongest foundation that defines Ben’s relationship; it is wandering eyes, apathy, and contention, and all is exacerbated by Ben’s committedly contrary, smugly acerbic disposition. Most of his commitment he devotes to his friend, Alice (Sherry Cola), with whom he trades playfully deprecating blows over diner meet-ups. When Miko departs for New York to pursue an internship—a move motivated by relationship fatigue more than it is by professional aspirations—Ben sinks further into his narcissistic plot moves, and begins determinedly pursuing his illicit desires.
Park’s Shortcomings should not be misconstrued as something grim and overly serious, though; much like the Netflix original rom-com, Always Be My Maybe (in which Park starred), Shortcomings is breezy and twee, composed with bright colours, and a buoyant—if cloying—score. This sheen should prove familiar for viewers familiar with straight-to-streaming-service dramedies, and may even result in Park’s effort being shoehorned in amongst them. One can’t help but wonder what this debut would look like had Park had taken more stylistic risks, but I would argue that the aesthetics actually play an integral role in this film’s meta fiction.
For one, Park’s film opens with a blatant parody of Crazy Rich Asians, an in-film movie that Ben, ever the critic, balks at as being a “garish mainstream rom-com that glorifies a capitalistic fantasy.” But Miko charges back, posits that the film is a “game-changer,” and that it will help new Asian-American directors see their future—and perhaps more “artsy”—projects through. This quick exchange serves as sort of thesis statement from Park. He is conscious of the Asian-helmed projects that have come before his, and he’s willing to concede that they may have even helped him see his project to fruition (not Crazy Rich Asians specifically, but perhaps films of its ilk). He also utilizes a recognizable style for his film’s presentation, probably so as to make Shortcomings more digestible fare for mainstream audiences. But, at the same time, he inserts Tomine’s characters, who all arrive with varying degrees of narcissism, as well as acute understandings of modern Asian-American experiences, and who all attempt to articulate and interpret these experiences throughout the course of the film.
The bulk of the dialogue in Shortcomings is far less film industry-focused, instead aiming itself at representation politics and discourses surrounding interracial relationships (after all, it is a drama about modern dating). Some of this dialogue can sound unnaturally verbose—pulled straight off the internet, even—but it works if taken as reflection of the zeitgeist being interpreted. In one scene, Ben rationalizes that an Asian man dating a white woman should be seen as a “win,” whereas a white man dating an Asian woman should be seen as having icky, immoral implications. It’s an outdated perspective, but it opens up grounds for Park to put Ben in his place. Cola’s Alice and Soyona Mizuno as Meredith sit opposed to Ben in this scene, and they smartly deride his narrow-minded position.
Again, Shortcomings works because it refuses to go the route of teaching you empathy. On the contrary, the film works hard to emphasize Ben’s misguided perspectives and highlight his many unsavoury characteristics as a human being, from his constant sarcasm, to his chronic selfishness. This makes Ben a difficult character to ride along with, granted, but it feels more honest. It is also a refreshing route for Park to go with his first film. Known for his comedic work in Marvel films and Seth Rogen comedies, Park could have easily gone the path of taking on a less challenging, more appealing—even more “token”-feeling—character, but by stymying Ben in his narcissism, Park achieves both a less-clichéd depiction of Asian-Americans, and a fertile zone for urgent and reflexive cultural critiques.
Yes, Shortcomings is a dialogue-heavy affair, and also reliant on the socially conscious buzzwords of our times, but this helps establish hyper-critical ground for its hyper-critical characters. And by conducting itself on this ground, we as audience members feel invited to enter into the film’s discourse, more stridently engage with the film’s ethics. Because despite what some critics maintain, putting a film’s focus on insufferable characters does not necessarily make for an insufferable film going experience. On the contrary, the challenging characters are the characters that stir in us deeper understandings of self. These are the characters that prompt us to remove our own narcissism from the equation, and open ourselves up to more raw, agitated, and ultimately honest reactions.
Whether or not Park’s film will come across as “honest” to you—that will depend on how appreciative you are of nuance or subtext. Neither approaches define Shortcomings, but unquestionable honesty can be found in other sources. Park’s film is honest with regards to its source material, and also refreshingly honest about the sociopolitical climate that has birthed it. If neither of these aspects appeal or even occur to you, Shortcomings should find traction with its whip-smart humour, which is served up by an exceptionally talented cast.
In the end, universal adoration for this project may be unrealistic, but Shortcomings surely tees Park up for continued successes. And with his film serving as a launch pad for his production company, Imminent Collision, it will assuredly herald the arrival of more Asian-American and Pacific Islander perspectives in storytelling. Ben Tanaka may not like this, but we do.