Celebrating the Austin Asian American Film Festival’s Sweet 16
Blow out the candles for the Austin Asian American Film Festival’s “sweet 16” celebration! Mochi explores how the local film festival came to be and where it’s heading next.


For five days at the end of June, I attended the 16th annual Austin Asian American Film Festival (AAAFF) on Mochi’s behalf. Though the festival celebrates its “sweet 16” this year, AAAFF’s Executive Director Hanna Huang noted in her opening night introduction that AAAFF has actually been community organizing through film for 20 years. Inspired by a Korean New Wave film class at the University of Texas at Austin taught by Professor Chiho Sawada, students created a group called Cinema Asia, which led to the first Austin Asian Film Festival in 2004.
Through many iterations, rebrands, and directors, the festival evolved and served the rapidly changing Asian American community in the city. After a brief hiatus, AAAFF made its return at the end of 2014 with the help of volunteers, due to popular demand. Today, it’s not just a film festival, it’s a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization with a mission to “champion Asian and Asian American stories through film and creative media.”
Building — and Growing — Community
As one of the first staff members of Austin’s Asian American Resource Center (AARC), Huang was heavily involved in operations to bring AAAFF back. Although Huang stepped into her role as executive director of the film festival in 2020, she first attended as a student back in 2008. As a key member of the organization, Huang uses her background in history and work in Asian American public programs with the city to build connections in the community.
“Part of [AAAFF’s] appeal is our very existence because there’s so many other film festivals out there, but they’re very broad,” Yuxi Lai, a shorts film programmer, explained. “They don’t have this particular focus that we have, and I don’t think there are many festivals out there that are specifically looking at Asian Americans. Given the last couple of years, there’s just such an important need for our representation on the big screen.”

When clarifying how he chooses films for the festival, Lai listed off several criteria: good quality films, good stories, authentic Asian American perspectives, and talented actors. AAAFF covers a vast geography — all of Asia, including the Middle East, so diversity is one to watch out for, too. “We try to get a good mix of representation from all over Asia. And each region has their certain style of film and they each bring something new to the festival … It’s really interesting to see other people’s stories,” Lai said.
On the features side, film programmer Josh Martin added, “I look for films that either show me something I haven’t seen, or show it in a way I haven’t seen … I also really like to highlight newer up-and-coming filmmakers — and especially films that wouldn’t otherwise have a chance of being shown in Austin, or maybe even in the United States.”
That last criteria is particularly important, especially as the film festival continues to grow. A few selections this year, including opening night’s “New Wave,” closing night’s “Ben and Suzanne: A Reunion in Four Parts,” and drama “Inside the Yellow Cocoon Shell,” premiered at larger festivals like Tribeca, SXSW, and Cannes before coming to AAAFF.
“[Asian American] stories are being highlighted by these bigger festivals, so that just drives us more to seek out newer voices who would maybe have less of a chance of getting into a Sundance or a Tribeca or those types of festivals,” Martin voiced. “It’s really just reinforced what we’ve seen as a big part of our mission already … If we can make some kind of small contribution to that, then I feel like we’ve done at least a big part of our job.”
The past few years, Huang and her team have focused on building an audience. “When [filmmakers] have a film show here, [they know] that [we have] a good crowd and a beautiful theater.” She continued, “The part that’s not very visible is really building our network and a trajectory for our local filmmakers to have a way to move forward [so we can] support the work they’re doing — like, [really] build those spaces.” One way AAAFF does this is by hosting industry mixers during the festival, with private events for local filmmakers to mingle with visiting ones.
While the film festival makes up a large part of AAAFF’s focus, it can’t accommodate everything in a mere five days — and Martin made clear that the team doesn’t just want its work to be a single annual event. Throughout the year, AAAFF collaborates with the AFS Cinema on monthly film screenings of AANHPI films through a program called the AAVClub. Sometimes, the team will work with film companies to host advanced screenings of upcoming AANHPI movies (the next one being Sean Wang’s “Dìdi”). In this year’s festival program, the team promoted local filmmaker events and networking opportunities, arts funding advocacy, and a special AAAFF archive and exhibit at the Austin History Center, which recently ended in early July. All of these initiatives keep the festival’s name out there and provide other opportunities for the AAAFF audience and community to get together outside of its main event.

Still, Huang admitted, it’s not always easy, even with a dedicated staff. “We’re trying to do it in a careful way without doing too much and then crash-and-burning a program,” she recognized.
A few weeks after the festival, one of the filmmakers that I met this year reshared a post on her Instagram Story with a caption calling AAAFF “one of the best film festivals I have ever attended.” It’s clear that a lot of heart goes into this niche film festival, but it’s leaving a lasting impression on Austinites and filmmakers alike.
Festival Favorites
And now, your feature presentation: the films from this year’s AAAFF! Though it was very hard to choose among the 12 features and 19 short films shown, the following are just a few of the ones I absolutely adored.

“New Wave”
Director Elizabeth Ai’s documentary and AAAFF audience award winner “New Wave” showcases the bold, bright, and catchy music subculture of the same name from the ’80s that featured Vietnamese artists, who often used the genre as an escape. The opening night film starts off as a music documentary, featuring fun editing and interviews with singer Lynda Trang Đài and DJ Ian Nguyen, but touches on heavy topics in the Vietnamese diaspora community such as generational trauma and sacrifice.
In her introduction to the film, Ai reminded the audience that next year marks 50 years since the Vietnam-America conflict, which has largely been covered from non-Vietnamese perspectives. “Why did Ken Burns, a white guy, get 18 hours to do the Vietnam War series?” she pointed out. “The media that we see … it’s always centering … violence [and] atrocities. [And] we deserve to see our people as creative people, as rebellious punks with aspirations to do these bigger things in life.”
“New Wave” marked a six-year journey for Ai. For the first four, “it was always just about the music,” she explained. But during filming, her daughter was growing up alongside the project. Ai would have been satisfied as-is, but “it changed as I got to know the people in my community better … I wanted to see something more involved and my teammates kept saying, ‘What are you really trying to say about this community?’” Her exploration of new wave music and the people behind it allowed Ai to hone in on her own relationship with the genre and family trauma, particularly with her absent mother.
It’s clear in the documentary where she pivoted and perhaps the lack of a clear thesis from the start is why the film drags at times, despite its 87-minute runtime. But in the end, it’s a fascinating and emotional dive into a different view of the Vietnamese American experience.

“Blue Sunshine”
Imagine writing, directing, and starring in your debut feature film, but all your film experience comes from watching YouTube videos. And you film in India during your three weeks of vacation because you’re still working a full-time job (at Amazon, no less). Well, that’s exactly what triple threat Samyuktha Vijayan did with her centerpiece narrative “Blue Sunshine,” which received a special jury mention at the festival. The film follows Aravind (who later becomes Bhanu), a teacher, as they transition from male to female in rural India, in order to avoid an arranged marriage and become their true self.
The story was based on Vijayan’s own experiences when she transitioned in 2016 while working in Seattle. “I went in as Santosh, my previous self, on Friday, and then I go in as Samyuktha, my new self, on a Monday, in a dress, wearing a wig [and] makeup,” Vijayan laughed during her Q&A. “It was so drama-free [and] so easy … But then, I was pretty sure [my experience] was not how it is going to be for a person who wants [to] transition in India.” While India has a history of transgender people in its culture, Vijayan explained, they are usually isolated from society, and this is what she explores in the film in a school setting.
“Blue Sunshine” is less than two hours and despite Bhanu’s challenges, the movie feels light and easy to follow while remaining intentional, thoughtful, and honest — particularly in its ending. Though one might hope for a happy ending for them, this one is a little surprising and bittersweet. To that, Vijayan clarified, “I don’t have all the answers … Even though I’m part of the [LGBTQ] community, I don’t know everything and I can’t answer everything. I can’t [provide] solutions to everything. The ending is ambiguous because [a] person does not have the answers.” No matter how you feel by the end, however, it’s impressive how Vijayan brought this film to life, and she absolutely nailed it.

“All Ears”
In “All Ears,” written and directed by Jiayin Liu, former screenwriter Wen Shan makes his living as a eulogy writer, taking the time to thoroughly interview loved ones to capture the deceased’s life. We meet the friends and family of his subjects, who often have differing opinions on his work. Though the feature feels long at times because it’s more relationship-driven than plot-driven, “All Ears” covers interesting themes and ideas.
While Shan helps his clients grieve, find closure, and accept their loss, he himself learns from the stories of the people he writes about, eventually finding inspiration and coming full circle. Through these everyday stories, he understands that even ordinary people like himself contain multitudes. “All Ears” is an understated and mostly serious film, but it feels special because it reminds us that we all have our own unique stories, too.

“Ashima”
Around 10 years ago, “Ashima” director Kenji Tsukamoto quit his job and moved in with the Shiraishi family. During that time, he followed daughter Ashima, an elite rock climber, and her dad Poppo as they traveled to South Africa. At age 13, Ashima’s goal was to attempt to become the youngest person in the world to climb Golden Shadow, a V14 boulder problem, or in other words, a really hard “sequence of technical climbing moves” — and she succeeded. Though non-climbers may not understand what that means, or even fathom such a physical feat, “Ashima” centers on the relatable, human aspect: what it’s like to be a girl at that age.
In the years Tsukamoto lived with the family, he captured over 600 hours of footage. Understandably, it took a while to edit everything down, but through the process, producer Minji Chang was adamant about putting Ashima’s perspective as a young girl learning to navigate the world and who she is first. While the Shiraishis had hesitations on how they would be portrayed, it turns out they loved the documentary and continue to attend festivals to see it. In fact, Chang said, “They said last month [that] they love it more each time that they watch it because they see something that they didn’t before.”
It’s so easy to root for Ashima, with her soft-spoken nature and iconic blunt bangs. We may not know what it’s like to be the best in our sport, or how isolating it feels at a young age, but we can still relate to her. Most of us know how hard it is to be 13 and can understand wanting to be and do our best in light of our families’ sacrifices.

“Push Pause”
Billed as a cozy film, “Push Pause,” directed by Ryoma Kosasa, reminds us to do exactly that and slow down. During the Tokyo Olympics, amid the COVID-19 pandemic, we meet several visitors and employees of a local guesthouse. Each chapter within the film focuses on each person’s story, showing small snippets of their lives, from the past year to the following few days. As the guests come together for a communal dinner at the house one evening, the film culminates to tell the story of the guesthouse itself, with the quirky and endearing elderly owner at its center.
The film touches on the everyday challenges and hardships of ordinary people, but makes sure to give each character closure. The premise may seem simple, but its wholesomeness makes it easy to root for each person. After a long five days at AAAFF, “Push Pause” was the perfect closing film for me.

“She Marches in Chinatown”
The 33-minute documentary “She Marches In Chinatown,” directed by Della Chen, follows the Seattle Chinese Community Girls Drill Team. Established in 1952 and created by Auntie Ruby Chow, the team is unique in its combination of Cantonese opera-inspired costumes with American military-style drills. For many of its multigenerational participants, it’s a way to honor culture while learning about female empowerment.
While the short film explains the history of the team, it focuses on their 70th anniversary and comeback to Seattle’s Chinatown after the start of the COVID-19 pandemic. “She Marches in Chinatown” touches on the challenges of the group amid the past few years of increased hate and discrimination, but overall, it’s a feel-good film that explores an interesting little-known history that inspires with stories of sisterhood — one of my favorite combinations.

“Al Niente”
When my brother first met director Lo Lam, whose short “Al Niente” he’d screened for the festival, Lam wanted to know, “Did you laugh?” The film follows two sisters, the carefree Ling and more cautious, uptight Munn, who take care of their dementia-stricken father but clash because of their opposing personalities. As Ling conducts music therapy for her father, he mistakes her for his former mistress, forcing the sisters to face some hard family truths.
The Hong Kong short was inspired by Lam’s late grandfather, who suffered from dementia, and her aunt, his primary caretaker for 13 years. “I saw from time to time how my aunt could go on,” Lam shared at a post-screening Q&A. “She [could] find a silver lining in the day-to-day, so I wanted to make a movie that portrayed dementia, not just as suffering. That’s why there’s humor in it.” While the story was based on this relationship, there are bits of Lam in the two sisters, too.
There’s a sadness, but Lam finds the perfect balance of examining grief with humor, using music and a wonderfully shot ending montage of the sisters over time to wrap it all together. The girl sitting next to me may have cried but yes, I did laugh.

“How to Get Your Man Pregnant”
If “How to Get Your Man Pregnant,” directed by Gyeong-mu Noh, sounds absurd, it’s because it absolutely is. In 2030 South Korea, birth rates are low. While Yujin Kang dreams of having a child with her husband Jeonghwan Choi, she’s tried IVF treatment to no avail — that is, until medical doctor Samsin Kim introduces a new solution: male pregnancy. This animated, narrative short is a wild, satirical ride from the very beginning, using ridiculous scenarios and humor to add social commentary, mainly poking fun at and subverting stereotypes.
When Choi agrees to male pregnancy, he does so to get his moment as a good husband and show that he’s supporting his wife, but he’s also terrified. Since male pregnancy is a new technology, he expects that his conventional grandfather will oppose the couple’s decision. But surprisingly, his grandfather is desperate to carry on the bloodline.
“How to Get Your Man Pregnant” kept me giggling and laughing the whole way through, but perhaps that’s because I enjoyed seeing the twists and turns during the 30-minute film — and of course, imagining a world where technology like this could be possible.
Learn more about AAAFF and its upcoming events on the organization’s website, or keep up with the team on social, via X, Facebook, and Instagram.
Cover image credit: Patricia Lim and AAAFF





