Educational Media Reviews Online

The third in a trilogy of films by producer Paul Kwan, documenting his life story. They show him first, as a very young man, fleeing Saigon for San Francisco; next, several years later, suffering a stroke and losing the use of his right arm; and, now, at what appears to be early middle age, moving beyond his paralysis to a newly productive life, filled with new relationships, family, and friends. (For interested readers, the earlier films are titled Anatomy of a Springroll and Pins and Noodles.)

In the current film, the early years and stroke experience occupy about 25 percent of the piece, presented fancifully via archival footage and dreamlike sequences with cartoon characters, costumed actors, and terrifying images of swinging pendulums and flames, among other things. The special effects were not well done and failed to add much to this viewer's enjoyment, although the story comes through in spite of it all.

A constant theme over the years is Kwan's love of food and cooking talent, which began in Vietnam when his mother took ill and he helped prepare family meals. He was a natural-talented from the start-so, for him, food and cooking became an integral part of relating to people and his surroundings (ergo, all the food puns in his titles). Food also is a key to success in mastering his disability-he learns to cook again with a new wok.

The film opens with scenes of Saigon, showing Kwan shopping with his mother, followed by the varied portrayals of his tribulations during the war, voyage to the United States, discovery of Chinatown and American-style Oriental movies, food, and lifestyle, and his illness. Afterward, the tale continues with scenes of a relative's wedding, highlighting the food customs of the two families. Perhaps the relative's mate is Chinese, because the customs appear to have a Chinese flavor (pun intended!), but it was not clear. We see Kwan at work with Occidental friends, planning and making his film. Kwan's sister keeps trying to start a business making spicy Vietnamese chili sauce, and scenes abound of people chopping, slicing, grating, stirring and tasting it from huge pots. The music evolves into Klezmer and the Jewish mother of one of Kwan's friends makes potato latkes, after which Kwan's sister tries an Oriental version that everyone likes. At the end, Kwan buys a new kind of wok he can manage with one hand. He patiently learns to cook with it. Last, he directs friends and family to help him make a feast with the new wok. He has transcended his travails and reconnected with life.

The closing sequence shown as the credits appear depicts an alien in a wok-from-outer-space being charmed by a meal of noodle soup with Kwan and a friend. As the alien takes off for the stars, the men shout reminders about oven temperatures.

Funding for Wok-in-Progress was provided by a number of venerable sources, among them the National Endowment for the Arts and the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, and the box proclaims that it won prizes at four different California film festivals-a state where film is taken very seriously. As a result, this reviewer's expectations for a top quality production were high. Unfortunately, those expectations were not met. As a therapeutic exercise, Wok-in-Progress may be an A-plus, but as a product of a recognized professional, an artistic endeavor, a well-executed documentary, or just a good old entertainment piece, it rates only a C from this reviewer.

Not recommended.