Spoony Oyster

Film Review: Dol (First Birthday)

[Andrew Ahn’s short film Dol (First Birthday) is an Official Selection for Sundance 2012. Read about the film here. View the film here. You can read backstory on Dol and Andrew Ahn here.] 

There is a scene in Andrew Ahn’s short film Dol (First Birthday) that contains an incredible amount of hope and yet is utterly heartbreaking.

The film’s protagonist, Nick, is a gay Korean American who lives with his boyfriend, Brian, and is going to his nephew’s first birthday (which is sort of a big deal in Korean culture, more on that later). Nick does not bring Brian (while Brian wants to go, Nick tells him simply, “It doesn’t matter”) and we learn that though his brother and sister-in-law might be supportive of who he is, his parents are not or don’t know.  In either case, we understand Nick’s anxiety and caution. Korean culture is not exactly known for its support of the LGBTQ community. I once asked my mom how people from her generation would feel if their son came out. “Great shame” are the words she used.   

The aforementioned scene is one in which before dinner, the family sits for prayer led by Nick’s mother. She prays in a sort of expected way talking about blessings, family and happiness but it is her wishes about her grandson, Benjamin, that resonate with us:  

Wherever he goes, whatever he does please make sure Benjamin finds happiness. We pray to you to help guide us as a family, to give us the strength to live virtuous lives.

We don’t question whether Nick’s mom actually means what she’s saying and the same prayer could be said at about any other Korean (or insert ethnicity here) kid’s 1st birthday but we do hope she really believes what she’s saying. We hold onto this hope because we imagine Nick’s grandmother said a similar prayer when he was born: whatever he does make sure Nick finds happiness. While we can imagine that Nick is certainly happy, he doesn’t necessarily have happiness especially with his family. 

And then we see the Dol where a crying and thoroughly disinterested Benjamin is seated in front of various objects that are meant to symbolize what the future holds for him. That is, if Benjamin chooses the pencil, he will become a scholar and do well in school while choosing a dollar bill signifies wealth and financial prosperity. This tradition is, of course, a bit more tongue-in-cheek than contractually binding but it’s fun for the family and if it turns out to be true then you can recall how prophetic the ceremony was. If it wasn’t true, you can joke about how it missed the mark. Korean parents, like most parents, would like to think they have some window into the future of what their children are to become. Wherever he goes, whatever he does please make sure Nick finds happiness. 

The metaphor of the Dol tradition is an interesting one, however, in the context of Nick as a gay man within a unknowing or unsupportive family system and culture. On one hand, the Dol is about a child “choosing” his fate out of several possibilities. On the other hand, we understand that the child isn’t really choosing at that young of an age. He simply chooses the pencil because, well, he wants a pencil—that’s it. It is a subtle move that speaks volumes about Ahn’s views of one’s sexual orientation against the backdrop of traditional Korean views. In Korean culture, the idea that someone is gay is difficult to understand. The idea that someone is born gay is impossible to understand.

Nick asks his dad what he (Nick) chose for his Dol and his dad simply replies, “It doesn’t matter” (there’s that phrase again). There is a certain unknowing anguish here that is played beautifully from both Nick and his father that gives us an idea of what their relationship must be like. If Nick is out to his parents, we feel that their relationship will never get better than this—his father will never accept Nick for who he is. If Nick isn’t out to his parents, there will be an unbridgeable gap between them which will also never get better. 

Not accepting your son for who he is. Having a distance between your family because of who you are. That absolutely matters.