ALWAYS BE MY MAYBE: A Middling Rom-Com Still Manages To Be Refreshing

Let’s just put it out there. By pedigree alone, I might be one of the worst people to give a well-informed take on Always Be My Maybe. I know Randall Park as Asian Jim on The Office and from a few spotty episodes of Fresh Off The Boat. Ali Wong was even more of a blind spot for me. All I can confess to is scrolling past one of her Netflix specials on my way to alternative entertainment.

I was perceptive enough to know Always Be My Maybe was a play on a song title. I thought it was by Whitney Houston (Sorry Mariah).  To add to the marks against me, I’m from Southern California. And in those politically incorrect times of yesteryear, I would be what was commonly referred to as a “Banana.” White on the inside and yellow on the outside.

I don’t need to expound on that much more except to say I don’t share the same life experience as our protagonists Sasha (Wong) and Marcus (Park). But instead of this disqualifying me from speaking on the movie, in other ways, it frees me up. I’m going in blind, prepared to appreciate this latest rom-com on its own merits, whatever they may be.

The Ethnicity Elephant in The Room

First, let’s go ahead and address this. Yes, our leads are Asian. But what I appreciated most about this film was this reality was all but allowed to exist in the periphery. In a general sense, it’s a nonentity. It’s normal. Not altogether novel or something to be heralded for being inclusive or progressive. It just is. Certainly, core to the identity of these characters are their cultures, family values, and the places they grew up and yet it remains the same for all of us. These are their lives. This is their experience.

As with any life, there are some knowing touches that struck a chord with me like cans of Spam, eating Pocky, and the like. For others from a prior generation, it might be watching Clarissa Explains It All, Wayne’s World Halloween costumes, or listening to D’Angelo to get in touch with emotions.

I would rather puke than support the Giants and the streets of San Francisco, as well as the Golden Gate Bridge, are almost like foreign attractions from a faraway land (though I grew up in the same state most of my life). However, for people I know, these things are like the air they breathe. Regardless of my perspective, it’s satisfying to watch a movie and have it remind me of a friend’s life — a life that very well might have never been represented on the big screen in this manner before.

The Love Story

Every crush starts somewhere. This one begins in 1996, almost like a continuation of Full House with more authentic beats. Sasha and Marcus are next-door neighbors. Her parents are all but absent. His are always around, warm and welcoming. His angelic mother (Susan Park) teaching Sasha how to cook leaves a lifelong impression on the young girl.

It’s the corniest of intros but I forgive it because it looks different from most of the analogous stories we’ve seen before. James Saito, in particular, gets a well-deserved role as Marcus’s father. I can think of all the MASH episodes (or other programs) I watched as a kid where he probably barely earned a line. It seems like a fitting reward for a prodigious career in the not-always-glamorous salt mines of character acting, especially for an Asian-American.

Always Be My Maybe‘s inciting moment is easy to guess even before it comes, representing the movie at its weakest, traveling the most obvious roads. Tragedy hits Marcus. He and Sasha try to comfort each other resulting in the most cringe-worthy encounter in his Corolla, flailing around, making out in front of his Garfield and Odie dashboard ornaments.

It instigates ongoing complications in their lifelong friendship thanks to newfound sexual tension. In their high school years, they never righted the ship and found themselves drifting apart. Flash forward to 2019 and Sasha has skyrocketed to the top of the culinary industry as a famed chef with restaurants dotted across the nation and a hunky boyfriend (Daniel Dae Kim) who also doubles as her promoter.

Marcus isn’t quite in the same stratosphere. He still lives in his childhood home and helps his dad out with the family business installing air conditions. In the evenings he fronts for his ’90s hip-hop ensemble Hello Peril. Their greatest claim to fame is selling seven of their merch tees.

Average Rom-Com Beats

Rom-coms would never function without throwing our divergent lovers back together. Always Be My Maybe is little different. Did I mention the beats are easy to read? If you are purely considering the mechanics set in place, there are very few surprises. Likewise, the dialogue often feels thin to the point characters are nervously spouting off words in a continual attempt to be quirky and funny at the behest of their creators. Sometimes it sticks. Most other times it’s hit or miss.

The supporting characters suffer the most out of anyone, trying their hands at lovable dorks and misfits we’re meant to laugh at good-naturedly. I might be harsh but for the most part, I found them a bit dull. Sasha’s best friend  Veronica (Michelle Buteau) is one of the less cringe-worthy additions armed with a cordial spirit as she is.

With the sitcom vibes coming through, you remember these are the minds – Park, Wong, and director Nahnatchka Khan – who brought us Fresh Off The Boat, a show that was quietly unprecedented due to content over form. We hadn’t seen a family quite like the Huangs on primetime previously. This was what made them refreshing.

Not unsurprisingly Always Be My Maybe mostly rehashes themes available countless times before. I’m thinking of two recent examples from my own viewings. Particularly Ramen Shop where food and family become integral to overcoming personal tragedy. Then, you have the main conceit of Wong Fu Production’s Single at 30, which similarly throws two childhood friends back together who have still remained unattached in adulthood.

None of this is revolutionary storytelling by any stretch of the imagination. To paint it any other way would be distorted. And yet I cannot write off this movie completely. There are several reasons. It’s true sometimes rom-coms and sitcoms get a bad rap – unfairly maligned by pundits for hypercritical reasons. I will temper my nitpicking.

Salvaged by Chemistry…And A Secret Weapon

Given time for some investment, Always Be My Maybe grows on you because the main characters take continued precedence over everything else. They carry the brunt of the story with the sheer intangibles experienced when two actors get together. In basic terms, they like each other; they look supremely comfortable playing off each other, and as an audience, we can pick up on that.

It makes inherent sense as Randall Park and Ali Wong originally met as part of an Asian-American comedy troupe called LCC Theater Company while still undergraduates at UCLA back in the 90s. She wound up pursuing her standup career in New York and he tried his hand at acting.  For Always Be My Maybe they joined forces again partnering with Michael Golamco on the script and simultaneously co-producing the project.

Park is gifted with the ability to somehow maintain this stasis of awkward discomfort. Every conversation turns out much the same with the same lilt in the voice, the same expression on his face, and the resulting hapless mien of a generally affable personality. When he’s dropping beats it just amplifies his goofy persona. We like him.

Wong exemplifies a gutsiness that I admire, ably carrying her through any moment with a confidence that more than balances out the constant wish-washiness of her comedic foil. Given their real-life friendship and God-given temperaments, it’s almost second-nature to buy their chemistry. While she’s a celebrity chef in the film, it seems like a seamless parallel to the stage career she has carved out for herself in an altogether stringent business.

Otherwise, Keanu Reeves is without question the MVP (aside from the combo of Park and Wong, of course). Like any of the game Hollywood A-listers who do self-parodying cameos, he seems to relish jabbing at the pseudo-spiritual, enigmatic image he’s half-unwittingly cultivated in the media. The big punchline is that fictional Keanu is actually a real jerk. He gives the film one of its most inspired wacky streaks and provides a formidable rival for Sasha’s affections.

It also seems like a relatively subtle casting choice as many people probably forget Reeves himself is of Asian ethnicity. Again, it’s immaterial when you get pulled into his lampooning performance but he adds his own unique texture to the ensemble. He even garners his own Randall Park-penned beat “I Punched Keanu Reeves,” the perfect end credits capstone for a spot-on appearance.

Conclusion: Always Be My Maybe

While I’m not for promoting mediocrity in storytelling, with the rapport of our leads and the utter normalcy of their station in life, it’s hard not to cheer for Always Be My Maybe. For followers of Fresh Off The Boat, you have another modest success and a step forward for Asian-American characters on the airwaves. And if you fancy yourself a Keanu Reeves fan you’re in for a gratifying outing.

While it doesn’t do movie romance as well as last year’s Crazy Rich Asians or even To All The Boys I Loved Before, it’s still better than a lot of the dreck coming out perennially. Is this an out and out commendation? I’m not sure. Do with it what you will.

What are some of your favorite films with quality celebrity cameos? Tell us what you think in the comments below. 

Always Be My Maybe was released on May 29th on Netflix for streaming.