Why ‘Over the Moon’ is the film my son and I desperately needed

Early in the lockdown, my 6-year-old was on his scooter zipping away in front of me on our quiet Seattle neighborhood street when I sensed a car coming from behind. I called out for my child to stop, but under his bright helmet painted with a cartoon lion, he couldn’t hear me.

I expected the car to slow, but instead, it sped up. I screamed, helpless. Any parent would be scared, but news headlines about hate crimes against Asian Americans during the Covid-19 pandemic rushed through my mind, flashing images of seniors assaulted and children stabbed at a store.

Luckily for us, the car stopped in time, but it was far too close for comfort. Was it a threat, a joke, or simply bad driving? I would never know. But that incident was the last time our only child was allowed on a scooter for months. Our family decided afterward that it would be unsafe for our son and me to be out without a second adult, further isolating ourselves in an already lonely time.

It’s so hard for me to feel hopeful during these times, but a new movie, “Over the Moon” has given me hope and a way to celebrate my heritage with family. I am a Chinese American who emigrated as a child and worked at our family’s takeout restaurant starting when I could barely see over the counter. Though I struggled in those early years of transition after immigration, I’ve not seen anything like the level of hatred currently directed toward Asians. According to Stop AAPI Hate, a national reporting center formed to track and respond to incidents of hate and discrimination spurred by the Covid-19 pandemic, in recent months “Over 80% of Asian American youth report being bullied or verbally harassed.”

This finding is unsurprising when the President and other leaders continue to blame China for the coronavirus, using hateful rhetoric that rings like playground taunts. Hate as a rallying call is chilling, especially when you know it’s working, when you know children are listening. With such dire statistics and rhetoric adding to my anxiety, I have struggled to protect my child physically and mentally. My son is very aware of racism, having been taught about anti-racism since preschool, and he knows that his mama is worried.

Along with the added physical safety measures, I have an increased and urgent desire to cultivate my child’s pride in his Chinese heritage. However, the pandemic has made it nearly impossible to build cultural connections in the ways our family did in the past. We can no longer bus to Seattle’s International District to soak up the festive atmosphere. We miss being immersed in the hustle and bustle of dim sum rushes and watching our little one eat his weight in dumplings. We can’t visit extended family out-of-state, let alone travel out of the country.

So what is a conscientious parent to do? What can we do to foster pride in our Chinese heritage during a pandemic that has been distinctly anti-Asian?

This Mid-Autumn Festival season, a holiday like Thanksgiving where loved ones reunite over a feast under a harvest moon, help comes from an unexpected source, a Netflix original available this week. Until I watched “Over the Moon,” I didn’t know how much I needed it, in this period when I feel pressured to downplay my Asian-ness, however futile and wrong it is.

Since the pandemic began, I haven’t been able to bring myself to wear my favorite “It’s an honor just to be Asian” T-shirt quoting Sandra Oh. Though I’m proud as ever to be Asian American, I do not want to give ammunition to racists while exposed in public and I’m angry at myself for feeling afraid. So in these somber times, “Over the Moon” prompted in me a quiet rejoicing.

The story introduces the audience — then takes them beyond — the Chinese myth of the Moon Goddess, a woman named Chang’e who drinks an immortality elixir awarded to her hero husband by the gods, and floats up to the moon for all eternity. This myth inspired the Mid-Autumn Festival, also known as the Moon Festival, which honors Chang’e’s sacrifice.

Skillful animation by legendary animator and director Glen Keane (“The Little Mermaid,” “Aladdin”) breathes life into endearing characters voiced by a talented all-Asian cast. Newcomer Cathy Ang headlines as Fei-Fei, the precocious 12-year-old protagonist, with Phillipa Soo of “Hamilton” fame as Chang’e the Moon Goddess, supported by an ensemble cast of Ken Jeong, John Cho, Margaret Cho, Sandra Oh, and more. During our at-home, prescreening offered by Netflix — one of the perks of having a writer mama — my 7-year-old was enraptured from the opening scene.

Set in a picturesque canal city in China with carved stone bridges over waterways, the film offered a peek into the thrill of what it was like to revel in the festival before I emigrated. Fei-Fei’s family feasts on delectable dishes with boisterous relatives squeezed around a round table, under a full moon. I remember eating fresh mooncakes as a child and learning that everything is round to symbolize unity and coming together. I loved seeing my child’s face light up at the scenes of family celebrations, especially because we couldn’t host a crowded dinner of our own.

Fei-Fei builds a rocket to the moon to prove the existence of the Moon Goddess to her father. She fights to hold tight to the stories and memories of her mother, who died four years earlier. “Over the Moon” is the final work of screenwriter Audrey Wells, who passed away from cancer in 2018. Through this film, she relayed to her husband and daughter that it was OK to love again, that love, while not immortal, can still be eternal.

For me, an Asian American mental-health advocate, I find the nuanced representations of Chinese mythology and culture in “Over the Moon” reason for optimism. I was taught since childhood that suffering is a venerable requisite in life, that there is honor in embracing one’s bitter fate. In modern retelling of “Over the Moon” — in which Chang’e, along with Fei-Fei and her father, finds freedom — is revolutionary in allowing its characters to quest for happiness beyond loyalty to the deceased. “Over the Moon” is a family movie that reinforces the message that we need not swallow bitterness; instead, we can change our fate.

The film ambitiously balances tradition and progress. It teaches us to champion heritage while evolving beyond the rules that hold us back. I recognized in some recent comments from cast member John Cho one of the reasons this film is so powerful for my son and me — it represents an Asian family on their own terms, not as bound up in oppression or shame or forced duty. It’s about love.

Most other representations of Asian culture and family demonstrate, by contrast, how dehumanizing it is to paint billions of people with the same brush. I’m curious how this film will perform worldwide. I wonder if “Over the Moon” will be too Chinese for Western audiences while simultaneously too Western in its theme and philosophy for Eastern ones. Or perhaps this push and pull is exactly why it will appeal to so many people like me who grew up caught in between cultures, who forged our own way.

Americans are facing not only a Covid-19 pandemic but an epidemic of heightened racism against Asians. The potential power of the film’s release during a time when some of our country’s top leaders model hate as a winning strategy is noteworthy. We need this film, this small antidote, to shield our children and ourselves, to challenge harmful stereotypes about Chinese people and instill cultural pride.