Review: “Joy Ride”

R-rated comedies are having a small—but not insignificant—moment right now. While that particular brand of raunchy movie seemed to be a regular staple of the mid-late 2000s theatrical scene, with movies like The Hangover (which spawned a trilogy) and Knocked Up, they’ve become increasingly rare, and when one does pop up every now and then, it often isn’t especially memorable. That’s why it’s so wonderful to see a movie like Joy Ride work on just about every level, harkening back to a specific (and often white male dominated) sort of adult comedy that strives to push the boundaries of bold, gross humor while looking ahead to a more diverse future both behind and in front of the camera.

Joy Ride is the directorial debut of Crazy Rich Asians screenwriter Adele Lim, from a script by Cherry Chevapravatdumrong and Teresa Hsaio centering around best friends Audrey Sullivan (Ashley Park) and Lolo Chen (Sherry Cola). The only two Asian kids in their white picket fence, white people dominated Pacific Northwest hometown (appropriately named White Hills), Audrey and Lolo fast become inseparable after their parents suggest they play together as children, bonding over their Chinese heritage that distinguishes them from their peers. While Lolo is the daughter of immigrants, Audrey was adopted as a baby by a white couple; in a “growing up” montage that starts the film, we see how being teased for her lack of knowledge about where she comes from fuels her determination to succeed. As adults, Audrey is a lawyer at a prestigious local firm, where she keeps up with her white male colleagues by aggressively playing sports with them at the country club, while Lolo is an artist who lives out back in her garage, struggling to sell any of her lewd (what she calls “sex positive”) art. Audrey is about to make partner at her firm if she lands a big client out of China; barely knowing any Mandarin herself, she brings Lolo along on the trip. They’re joined by Lolo’s awkward, K-pop obsessed cousin, nicknamed Deadeye (Sabrina Wu), and Audrey’s other best friend and former college roommate Kat (Stephanie Hsu), a successful actress currently starring on a TV show in China. The trip predictably takes a turn that requires the foursome to hit the road, although just what turns that trip takes is part of what makes Joy Ride so fun.

Joy Ride’s cast is game for the journey too, and while the story is centered around Audrey’s journey of self-discovery, they are each given substantial arcs and equal opportunity to shine. Park, whose previous credits include her Tony-nominated role as Gretchen Weiners in Mean Girls on Broadway and the fluffy Netflix series Emily in Paris, is perfectly poised to play the preppy, over-achieving Audrey. As Lolo, Cola handles some of the film’s most crass humor and is a great foil to Park, and Wu is delightfully strange while bringing some true heart to her socially-awkward character. The stand-out, thought, is Hsu, who garnered acclaim for her supporting role in the Oscar-winning Everything Everywhere All at Once last year. She doesn’t hold back with the purely comedic material she’s given here. In Joy Ride, Hsu’s Kat has a laundry list of past crude behavior and sexual encounters that’s alluded to before we even meet her, but when we do, we find that she’s been dating her Jesus-loving costar (Clarence, played by Desmond Chiam) who is saving himself for marriage for three years. Clarence doesn’t know about Kat’s past, and Hsu plays her as a woman whose restrained thirstiness has her perpetually teetering on the edge of exploding. She’s arguably the most unhinged of the group, and Hsu’s faux saccharine line delivery coupled with her frantic physical comedy is enough to cement her as one of the screen’s next great comedic performers.

The wild situations the girls get into range from drug smuggling to impersonating a K-pop group to get out of the country, but Joy Ride’s sense of humor never extends to abusing its characters for laughs (something that didn’t set well with me in the other R-rated comedy currently playing in theaters, the Jennifer Lawrence-headlined No Hard Feelings) nor does it overstay its welcome (one of several issues I have with the 2011 female-led comedy Bridesmaids, although I realize I’m in the minority in not enjoying that movie). The filthy gags are no-holds-barred, but Joy Ride also swings for a genuinely heartfelt third act—maybe a little too hard, but it’s difficult not to get choked up when Audrey makes a discovery about her birth family, or Deadeye’s online friends—derided by the group up to that point as not being actual friends—come through for her in the real world. The identity of the creators’ behind-the-scenes is also so evident on onscreen, not only in so much of the movie revolving around female desire and the female experience both professionally and personally, but in the specificity of its depiction of Asian culture. The latter reaches far deeper than merely portraying the wrongheadedness of how a lot of white people lump all Asians together in one group; as they meander through the airport in Beijing, Lolo points out the differences between Chinese, Koreans, and others they spot, while later in the film, Lolo describes how Chinese her extended family is as the group prepares to visit them: that they are “keep plastic bags inside plastic bags” Chinese.

Joy Ride concludes on a shot of positivity, not only in the way it portrays female friendship but also in how it advocates for doing what you love and having confidence in who you are, as opposed to trying to squeeze into a mold you’ll never fit in. And it does all that in 95 minutes, while making you laugh a lot along the way—what’s not to like about that?

Joy Ride is now playing in theaters. Runtime: 95 minutes. Rated R.