About a month ago I got served up an advertisement for The Expats, a limited-series on Amazon Prime about expat families living in Hong Kong. The show is based on the novel The Expatriates by Janice Y. K. Lee, which I listened to while logging miles on the treadmill in eager anticipation of the series drop.
The Expats is produced and directed by Lulu Wang, a Chinese-born, American filmmaker knowing best for The Farewell, at least before The Expats. I was already an admirer of Wang’s work, which centers on intergenerational relationships between women and families, but The Expats forced a reckoning with an aspect of the mother-daughter experience I’ve felt has been invisible for far too long: class and race within ethnic groups and families.
The novel, as a foundation for the series, is a worthwhile read before hitting play. Lee explores motherhood, and mothering through great tragedies (not a spoiler; the story is in part about a child who has gone missing), and is itself a gorgeous standalone work. I recommend reading it before watching the film as a study in the way derivative works can elevate a story’s core and render a story “of the current moment.” While Wang’s series is based on Lee’s book and follows her novel’s major plot points, she veers pretty sharply to amplify Lee’s exploration of race and class in our increasingly mixed, global world.
One storyline in both the novel and series is of Mercy. The daughter of Korean immigrants, Mercy grows up with poverty in Queens, NY before attending Columbia University. Mercy believes she is cursed, and although the story follows the plot points of her particular curse, I can’t help but feel that the curse is also a metaphor for those of us who try to make good on our parents American Dream. We rise in the ranks through our education, but we look back because we must. Our mothers are always behind us; we wonder: can they ever be beside us? Wang takes this line of inquiry to another level in The Expats by devoting an episode the length of a feature film focused on caregivers (my favorite episode).
Wang’s depiction of Hong Kong is visually lush. She makes use of the city’s weather, architecture, colors, and greenery to its fullest to serve up a version of Hong Kong Island that weaves luxury apartments with city streets where caregivers spend their Sundays picnicking on flattened cardboard boxes. Sounds also play an important role in the series as characters are often moving between accented and American English, Cantonese and Tagalog.
As audience, we are also encouraged to feel our own limitations as voyeurs as minor character storylines are presented but never fully unraveled. Reading the novel may help you with some sense making if you prefer a stronger foothold. Or you can look to the other aspects of filmmaking to keep you grounded including Wang’s choice and presentation of music. I’m not spoiling anything for you by sharing a clip of my favorite song: The Expats choir version of Katy Perry’s Roar sung by caregivers in episode 5:
Wang’s rich layering of exploration and that she made a freaking feature length film in the middle of the series has me wondering if we are approaching a major turning point in television (says the girl who doesn’t watch a lot of TV). Is it possible studios will green light work that more accurately reflects our culture? That doesn’t adhere to “templates that sell”? Or better yet, has Wang given artists a new template to harken back to when attempting to get our own green lights? I am hopeful!
Have you already watched The Expats? I’d love to know what you think if so! Drop a comment below!