Inseparably linked with police brutality, the L.A. Riots of 1992 altered the way systemic racism is perceived in the 21st century as it continues to spark a more complicated and critical posture toward the intermingling of race, economics and brutal injustice against African Americans. When looking back at the riots 25 years later, the Korean-Americans who were affected by these events have rarely been at the front of the narrative. At the time, black and Korean communities were at odds with one another as a result of gentrification and the gradual re-segregation between wealthy white communities and impoverished minority communities. Director, writer and actor Justin Chon remembers the 1992 LA Riots with a rare Korean-American perspective in “Gook,” which reveals itself as a poignant picture of race and friendship.
Chon’s sophomore feature opens with striking juxtaposition — a dream-like snapshot of an 11-year-old African American girl named Kamila (Simone Baker) dancing in front of a storefront consumed in flames. It’s clear from the initial sequence that Chon acquires a flair for visual poetry with the intent of invigorating a common narrative set within the racially-taut inner-city of Los Angeles in 1992. With a surreal eye setting the tone for the rest of the film, “Gook” documents the story of Kamilla and her unlikely relationship with Eli (Chon) and Daniel (David So), two Korean-American brothers who struggle to keep their father’s shoe store in business as burgeoning racism boils over Los Angeles.
Despite the desire for familial connection, Kamilla is prohibited from seeking such a relationship with the two brothers by her own brother Keith (Curtiss Cook Jr.), as an initially unspoken tragedy looms from the past drives his reasoning. Against her brother’s request, Kamilla regularly skips school to help around the store and ultimately forms a deep bond that goes beyond race, and is centered on love and compassion.
Chon’s film is a unique look at the L.A. riots, and although the socio-political implications surrounding this film are important for understanding the power behind “Gook,” the riots themselves merely act as a launchpad for affecting character development and emotional grip. Although the foreshadowing of the destruction the riots would eventually levy comes off as heavy-handed, the events help carry this film’s foreseeable fate in apprehension in spite of its predictability.
The title, “Gook,” suggests a film radiant with bravura as it strikes a nerve with a force heavier than a brick thrown through a storefront window during the ‘92 riots and, sure enough, the film is shot with similar confidence. But it does have its artistic pitfalls: There are aspects of “Gook” where its artistic endeavors feel needless and slightly pretentious. Even though some will argue it helps render a surreal quality, the crisp black and white cinematography inhibits “Gook’s” conveyance of racial strain. If shot in color, the sweltering summer heat of the time would have mirrored the escalating tensions prevalent in the area and moment in history perfectly. Despite the film’s hesitancy in tone, jarring humor (including an out-of-place dance number to Hall & Oates’ “Maneater”) and its occasional moments of blundered artistry, this sophomore feature is an otherwise resilient and promising breakthrough for the multi-talented Chon.
Given the current political regime and the 25th anniversary of the L.A. riots in hindsight, “Gook” is a necessary and remarkably brave stroke for Chon, considering his first film “Man-Up” was a comedy. It’s impressive how he weaves together such a harrowing story despite being spread thin as a writer, director and actor. In only his second film, it’s evident that Chon possesses a forcible voice for storytelling and a keen eye for character building. Even with the aimless attempts at art-house eccentricities, it’s hard to criticize him for a film that manages to unravel an emotionally taxing narrative while presenting a forgotten voice in a conversation that bears increasing relevance today. [C+]
