4 Movies We Loved at SXSW
From thrillers about smuggling jobs in the ’70s to comedies about teaching high school sex ed as a virgin, here are some films we loved at SXSW.

If you’ve ever been to any type of conference or festival before, you know that it’s physically impossible to see or do everything. At this year’s SXSW film and TV festival, even seeing all Asian-led films was a challenge, with South Asian representation dominating this year. But I’m the type of person to try anyway. From a South Korean thriller about a pair of best friends running smuggling jobs in the ’70s to a Canadian comedy about teaching high school sex ed as a virgin, and everything in between, here are a few of the Asian-led movies I had a blast watching during my (first!) SXSW.

“A Nice Indian Boy”
A universal truth within Indian culture is that an Indian woman of a certain age (or at least her family) must desire a “nice Indian boy.” But in this story, Karan Soni plays Naveen Gavaskar, a gay man of Indian descent looking for his own version of a nice Indian boy. Through a coincidental run-in at a local Hindu temple that leads to a meet-cute at the hospital where Naveen works, he meets Jay Kurundkar, who seems to be the one Naveen is looking for — except Jay, played by Jonathan Groff, is a white man who was adopted by Indian parents.
The movie focuses less on how Naveen and Jay fall in love, and spends more time diving into how Naveen plans to break the news to his family — one, that he’s dating, and two, that his boyfriend (and eventual fiancé) is a white man. Acceptance in the Indian community also gets little coverage, as Naveen’s parents (Zarna Garg and Harish Patel) and his sister (Sunita Mani) are refreshingly supportive of Naveen being gay and Jay joining the family. They’re more than happy to admit that they watch OutTV in their free time, an ongoing bit throughout the film.
Instead, the film navigates the dichotomy between Naveen, who tends to shy away from the boldness of his culture, and Jay, who gladly embraces it. While Jay, an artist, wears his heart on his sleeve and loves to sing the “Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge” soundtrack in the middle of the street, Naveen, the doctor, internalizes his feelings and keeps things close to his chest.
As Naveen and Jay prepare to get married, the film additionally deals with the Gavaskar siblings’ expectations around love, largely influenced by their assumptions around their parents’ prearranged relationship. Despite the conflicts Naveen, his family, and Jay go through, there’s a lot of entertainment — with plenty of callbacks to “DDLJ,” cowboy-themed gay bars, and very heartfelt family photos. “It’s hard to be gay [as an] Indian or South Asian, or just in general,” director Roshan Sethi acknowledges, “but we wanted the movie to be primarily entertaining and funny.”

“Doin’ It”
For someone who’s been so open about her sexuality throughout her career, Lilly Singh is still getting used to talking about sex. But now with a movie about sex ed, Singh can’t avoid the topic anymore. While we might be used to seeing her on YouTube or on NBC when she hosted her late night talk show, she takes on a new role in “Doin’ It,” as co-writer, producer, and movie star. Singh’s first feature film, made in collaboration with Iranian American director Sara Zandieh, follows Maya, an Indian American woman who got caught in a very public and very compromising position when she was younger. As a result, her mom sent her to high school in India.
Now older, Maya and her mother return to America so Maya can sell an app about protecting kids online. While doing her market research, Maya gets a job as a high school substitute teacher teaching sex ed instead of her first choice, computer science. The only problem: She’s still influenced by her conservative Indian education on how to view sex — and she’s a virgin.
As you’d expect from a movie that advertises itself as a sex comedy, the film is full of lewd jokes, but this makes talking about the topic a little easier. The film dives headfirst into tackling important issues, such as the taboo and shame around sex — not just in Asian cultures, but in American sex education, too. While Maya comes with her own childhood traumas, like one lingering memory of her grandma telling her to “be careful” when she gets her first period, as she builds her class curriculum, she begins unlearning the traditional perspectives that were first instilled in her. She encourages her class to become more familiar and comfortable with their bodies, but balances that by ensuring that they understand the importance of boundaries. One of the students mentions to Maya how cool it is that she speaks to the teens as equals, rather than lecturing at them.
When Maya runs into her high school crush (the one she was found in the compromising position with), he mentions that because of that moment, he was able to get his first girlfriend, while Maya was sent off to India. This brief interaction touches on how men and women are treated differently when it comes to shame and sex, but the film doesn’t unpack that further. Instead, the movie chooses to remain neutral and focuses on a more universal message that encompasses everyone. I fully expected more of a discussion, or at least for Maya to question the contrasting reactions, so it’s a little frustrating when she quickly moves on. “Doin’ It” could have addressed more nuance, even around Maya’s Indian education versus what she teaches in the classroom. But throughout the film, the comedy clearly intends to remain broad and really just touch on the basics.
While Maya is heavily influenced by her Indian American identity, Singh doesn’t make the whole film about it either, though she does give a nod to shows like “Never Have I Ever” that paved the way for movies like this to exist. Some jokes feel a little forced, some fourth wall-breaking that doesn’t quite land, and at times, Maya feels like Singh just wrote herself into the film. But “Doin’ It” is still a fun movie with an important message and an equally funny cast.

“Smugglers”
If you’re a fan of South Korean media, the cast of the movie “Smugglers” may have some recognizable names. The movie, set in the 1970s, centers around best friends Chun-ja (Kim Hye-soo) and Jin-sook (Yum Jung-ah), members of a group of Haenyeo, women divers who collect and harvest shellfish for a living. When pollution from nearby factories threatens their livelihood, the friends enter the world of smuggling, diving for heavy crates full of illegal items. An informant leak leads to an ambush during one dive, separating the two friends physically and emotionally, due to a misunderstanding. Chun-ja returns to the seaside town three years later to help infamous smuggler Sergeant Kwon (Zo In-sung) bypass restrictions on his business — and Chun-ja needs to get Jin-sook and the rest of the Haenyeo on board for their biggest job yet.
At its core, “Smugglers” tells a story about friendship and female survival in a world where men are (or at least think they are) in charge. But I admit, Zo In-sung was the main reason I wanted to watch this film. He looks good as he smolders into the camera in his ’70s outfits, and cool when fighting a gang of thugs trying to corner him in his hotel room, OK? But the movie is also filled with so much badassery from the female leads and the women around them. Despite men holding the power in this society, these women are the actual experts who can outsmart them.
The women perfectly combine their understanding of the people around them, the power dynamics, and their craft to their advantage. One character, the owner of a local coffee shop Go Ok-bun (Go Min-si), is probably one of my favorite characters in the film. Her theatrics are so funny and exaggerated, but she knows when to turn them on in order to manipulate the men around her. Society views her on a lower status, but she understands this and uses it to wield the little power she has.
Though the characters are entertaining, “Smugglers” is largely plot-driven — and like some South Korean media, the plot and different relationships can be a little hard to follow at times. There’s also quite a bit of violence (with some directed at the women), but not too much gore. If you’re like me, you’ll just gasp and wince a lot. But in the end, everything comes full circle in a thrilling, fun, and ultimately fulfilling journey.

“The Queen of My Dreams”
Director Fawzia Mirza went through several iterations before her film “The Queen of My Dreams” was made. First a short film and then a one-woman show, the final version is a full-length movie about Azra (Amrit Kaur), a young Pakistani Canadian queer woman, and her strained relationship with her mother Mariam (Nimra Bucha), largely inspired by Mirza’s own experiences.
While on a trip back to Pakistan, Azra’s father (Hamza Haq) dies from a heart attack, so Azra travels with her brother (Ali A. Kazmi) to reunite with their mother for the funeral. Here’s where the description gets a little difficult. Azra’s storyline in the ’90s is the main focus, but Mirza weaves this with two other timelines — Mariam’s own coming-of-age during the ’60s in Karachi, Pakistan, and the family’s move to Canada when Azra is a pre-teen. To add another layer of complexity, Kaur takes on dual roles as Azra and a younger Mariam — a nod to doubling, a technique often used in Bollywood cinema.
As I grow older, I’ve become a sucker for movies about mother-daughter relationships — perhaps because I’m at an age where I can truly appreciate how complicated they can be on both sides. That being said, “The Queen of My Dreams” was probably one of my favorite films at SXSW, and this description is probably not doing it justice.
The movie is complex — in both the mother-daughter relationship and the execution of three timelines — but that’s what makes it so personal. Going back and forth can sometimes feel like whiplash, where one moment, you’re laughing at the awkwardness of growing up, before you’re thrust back into the grieving. But by switching between different eras, you get to understand both the mother and daughter and the influences that shape their identities and personalities. No matter what era, Mirza never fails to remind us, “Heaven is at your mother’s feet.”
As Azra grows up in Canada, she sees firsthand the struggles her mother faces with assimilation as she targets her Tupperware sales at the white ladies in their neighborhood. And in Pakistan, Azra butts up against clear gender roles during her father’s funeral rites, which don’t allow her to grieve his death in the way she wants. Overall, the film does a beautiful job of balancing the emotional gravity with the lighthearted — and, of course, Kaur is brilliant at switching between Azra in the ’90s and young Mariam in the ’60s.
The film is a beautiful homage to Azra’s (and by extension, Mirza’s) heritage, too, showcasing stunning shots of food, street singers, Bollywood films, and more. While it doesn’t address everything individually, the feature touches on the nuanced nature of having many descriptors tacked onto your identity — Pakistani Canadian, Muslim, lesbian, woman.
For those in Canada, “The Queen of My Dreams” recently secured its theatrical release, and I would highly recommend checking it out if you can.
Honorable Mentions
In addition to the movies above, I took some recommendations from our Editor in Chief Giannina and her recent roundup from Sundance. Take a look at what she wrote about “Dìdi (弟弟)” (out in the U.S. on July 26, 2024) and “Girls Will Be Girls” — I loved watching both, too!
Cover Credit: Felipe Vieira / Unsplash





