Elizabeth Ai joins a line of filmmakers who have centred documentaries around the uncomfortable nuances of generational trauma in her latest film, New Wave. Much like Bad Axe, Liquor Store Dreams, and many other films of this ilk, we have a starting point which seemingly disarms us. The vibrant titular ‘80s Vietnamese New Wave era of Euro-synth music and punk rock aesthetics prepares audiences for something light and breezy, before unravelling the layers of pain, broken hearts and dreams, and healing that have taken place beneath the surface of glitzy energy and joy.
Make no mistake, New Wave is about the music, but it’s equally about what the music masks—a tricky balance. While the film occasionally buckles under the burdens of needing to interweave and interrogate so much in a short span of time, Ai crafts a moving, deeply personal story not just of her own experience with Vietnam’s New Wave and being a Vietnamese diaspora child, but integrating the experiences of others.
The birth of Ai’s daughter Asa motivated her to embark on this project, wishing to leave something for her child that could convey the weight and spirit of her community’s past and resilience. New Wave provides the opportunity to spotlight Vietnamese teenagers and young adults in 1980s Orange County, CA who grew up in a space of deep uncertainties after they and their families fled their homeland for a new life in America — a group rarely given the spotlight in cinema but much appreciated in New Wave.
Ai introduces us to these teenagers, often rebellious, in search of an identity that’s in flux as they try to ‘fit in’ to a new world that wasn’t always the most welcoming. Through these teens, she introduces us to the music scene which gave them such joy and comfort. One of the key interviewees, DJ Ian Nguyen, explains how music gave them something to cling onto during darker periods of their lives, something to make them feel complete. There’s a fantastic energy and vibrancy to how the film captures the mood of the era through archival footage and historical recreations, such that we feel the teenagers’ emotional outlet of energy so strongly.
In conjunction with this broader exploration, New Wave hones its attention on one of the most prominent pop idols and trailblazers in the Vietnamese diaspora: Lynda Trang Đài, often hailed as the “Vietnamese Madonna” for her popular covers of hit songs and ground-breaking stage presence, unafraid to push boundaries.
Ai catches up with Đài in the present-day running a sandwich store to support her family to reflect upon her career. Their conversation never goes the route of a simple story of a singer’s rise and fall; rather it’s a sombre, reflective rumination on a specific period of history and how someone who so prominently figured in it, dealt and handled all the highs and lows.
Ai’s decision to focus on Đài proves fascinating given her rise to fame and the inevitable accompanying struggle to carry such a heavy responsibility for an underrepresented demographic. There’s plenty of heartbreak in dreams not materialising and potential not being done justice, but New Wave also points to Đài’s many cherished accomplishments exemplifying how much her work and artistry inspired many young Vietnamese people. These scenes are among the best of the film, and really, an entire documentary could be made all around Đài and her career.
New Wave also explores Ai’s relationship with her estranged mother and DJ Nguyen’s with his estranged father aiming to be the emotional core of the film. Through these two fractured relationships, New Wave explores how the lingering pains of Ai and DJ Nguyen’s trauma and the counterculture rebellion against the older generation, captures the complex feelings they have towards this era.
The film struggles at times in making each phase distinctive. Though the stories told depict very different experiences, the conclusions drawn become repetitive. While understandable given the commonalities within the Vietnamese diaspora experience, it does lend to a certain imbalance, especially given how distinct and different Lynda Trang Đài’s segment compares.
Nevertheless, New Wave fully achieves its aim of showing a different perspective of the Vietnamese diaspora and their specific generational trauma. The pain is not ignored, instead it’s dealt with and acknowledged alongside the joy that masked the anguish. Through New Wave, Ai shows how in many ways, that joy also healed them.
