After the breakthroughs of “Everything Everywhere All at Once” and “Turning Red,” another important step for Asian American representation arrives with “Joy Ride,” directed by Adele Lim, the co-writer of “Crazy Rich Asians.” The film follows four childhood friends—Audrey (Ashley Park), Lolo (Sherry Cola), Kat (Stephanie Hsu), and Deadeye (Sabrina Wu)—who embark on a business trip to China that quickly veers into chaos. When a major deal falls apart, Audrey is forced to confront her own identity and search for her birth mother, dragging her friends into a wild odyssey involving a drug smuggling scheme, an outrageous K-pop performance, and a series of increasingly outlandish lies. Along the way, bonds are tested, secrets are revealed, and self-perceptions are shattered.
At its strongest, “Joy Ride” feels like a landmark. It is rare to see a major studio comedy centered on four Asian women who aren’t burdened by tired stereotypes or reduced to sidekick roles. The film doesn’t flatten them into archetypes; instead, it allows them to be messy, funny, insecure, and brash. Ashley Park brings nuance to Audrey’s search for belonging, grounding the film with emotional authenticity even as the story leans into wilder comic territory.
Director Adele Lim has said that part of her inspiration for the film was the desire to show that “Asian women can be just as raunchy, free, and gloriously messy as anyone else.” That ethos shines through. The film revels in its chaotic energy, unafraid to be vulgar or ridiculous, but it also feels fresh in its willingness to let these characters be both absurd and emotionally complex.
Still, “Joy Ride” struggles to fully land the emotional weight it gestures toward. Topics like transnational adoption and the historical undervaluing of girls in China are touched on, but never explored with the depth they deserve. “Joy Ride” often opts for raucous humor over real cultural excavation, and while the jokes fly fast, they don’t always land. Even the much-hyped K-pop imitation scene feels like a missed opportunity, funny in bursts but never quite reaching the exuberance it aims for.
Despite its unevenness, the performances make “Joy Ride” worth the trip. Stephanie Hsu continues to show remarkable range following her work in “Everything Everywhere All at Once,” effortlessly shifting from sharp comedic beats to moments of vulnerability. Sherry Cola, meanwhile, proves to be the film’s secret weapon, delivering some of the best moments with natural charisma and perfect comedic timing. Even when the jokes don’t always hit, the dynamic between the four leads gives the film its heart.
“Joy Ride” may not hit the same heights as “Bridesmaids,” but its existence is meaningful. It offers a new kind of Asian American representation—one that doesn’t need to be solemn or perfect to matter. Even when the movie leans too heavily on outrageous humor, it still moves the conversation forward—and it does so with undeniable heart.