“Saving nickles, saving dimes…Looking forward to happier times, on Blue Bayou” These are among the strains of that sad song Blue Bayou that gives Justin Chon’s film it’s name and one of the best sequences in the films. Alternately empathetic and heartbreaking, the film relies upon a blend of melodrama, grit, and chronicles the life of a family just trying to make it but being slowly ripped apart by systemic injustices.
Justin Chon plays Antonio LeBlanc, a Korean adoptee who was raised in Louisiana, who finally feels like he’s found some peace in his life. He’s married to Kathy (Alicia Vikander) who’s expecting, become a doting stepfather to Jessie, and does all he can to make ends meet. However, after an altercation with an officer puts him the crosshairs of immigration officials and deportation, he is forced to confront not only his past, but do everything possible to make sure his present happiness doesn’t disappear.
Justin Chon is doing quadruple duty here as producer/actor/dirwcor/writer and he quits himself well in all phases, but namely as a writer and actor. His script is a rare thing, a movie about working class and immigrants that displays a full range of life. He allows every character, even the ones you hate, a full range of space to operate and modulates the emotions of both the characters and narrative with aplomb. Blue Bayou is an impressive piece of work in that it takes big themes and issues, particularly adoption and immigration, and brings them down into a grounded character level. There’s so much going on in every word and character interaction, and in the words that aren’t even spoken.
Which is what makes the climax and resolution of this film so frustrating. Up until the movie reaches a certain point, there’s a smart balance between how a tale like this would unfold in the real world and what kind of story is needed to make an engaging feature film. However, as the movie moves towards the end, Chon chooses to reengage the film’s worst character and move the story into a direction that’s much less morally engaging. It’s like the film didn’t trust that the vagaries of the American legal system and the complexity of family dynamics would be enough, so it had to crank up the stuff that “Hollywood” films might do. By going that route however, the melodrama becomes overwrought and kind of goes off the rails. Even the film’s emotionally devastating climax feels somewhat unearned and too long. I wish Chon had stuck to his guns and allowed the systemic issues drive the story, because they were way more interesting.
Despite these problems, I had no issues being carried through the film when it was home to some of the finest performances of the year by a pair of lead actors. Justin Chon and Alicia Vikander are simply phenomenal in this film, equal parts thrilling and heartbreaking. I believed every single emotional beat and every single line they uttered, carried through this film by the sheer humanity and acting brilliance pouring out of them. And that’s not all, their work is elevated via a really deeply stable of performers. Linh Dan Pham and Mark O’Brien in particular get to play two integral characters specific to each partner’s story, bringing out the best in their scene partners. Even when the movie dips or zigs when it should zag, the performances are enough of a delight to move you and make Blue Bayou a worthy watch.