There’s no shortage of big ideas on offer in Amy Wang’s feature directorial debut, “Slanted,” but like the tragic heroine at its center, this ambitious outing might have fared better had Wang more keenly considered the overall package that holds it together. Often styled as a satire — with generous shades of both “Mean Girls” and “Bottoms” to boot — Wang’s film is far more sad and strange than all of that. Mostly, it’s a sort of blunt-force spin on “The Substance” (yes, more blunt than Coralie Fargeat’s feature, somehow) that never quite allows itself to go past those references into something more honest and, frankly, more terrifying.
Despite all those references — and even a few scenes that do more than just nod to such films — Wang’s film does tout an original and compelling idea. The filmmaker’s take on body horror transplants the genre into the hellscape of high school, perhaps the only setting in which being outside of your own body would feel not welcome, but right. Joan Huang (Shirley Chen) knows all about wanting to be someone else, especially on the outside (a pursuit so consuming that her interior life proves to be discomfitingly barren).
Ten years into living in America, and the Huangs still haven’t quite cracked the code for ideal living. We first meet the small family (including Vivian Wu as Joan’s heartbreaking mother and Fang Du as her charming father) early in their American experiment, having just arrived in the south (the film was shot in Georgia) from China, eager to dive into their new lives. It’s clear from the start what being all-American really looks like: Being blonde and thin, wearing “Yee-Haw Boots” and drinking “Freedom Coffee,” and it’s no wonder young Joan (Kristen Cui) gets hip so quickly to all of this, as she’s simply inundated with such imagery. Being bullied at school doesn’t help either, as kids are quick to pull at their eyes to mimic Joan’s “slanted” lids or to sniff at the lovingly homemade dishes she brings for lunch.
Bad experiences aside, Joan’s father’s position as a custodian at the local high school gives her an early — and potent — look into something that can’t help but both thrill and confuse her: the life of the all-American teen. And when kiddo Joan stumbles into prom, where she and the entire auditorium are reminded that the prom king and queen “represent American values and who we all strive to be,” we can’t help but see how much damage this would do to an impressionable child, no matter how hammily such key moments are handled.
That Joan would grow up to be a teenager who is woefully unable (or unwilling) to consider the consequences of her actions is the most down-to-earth element of Wang’s often-inflated (and, still, never quite funny) feature. Teen Joan pinches her nose to make it look smaller, gleefully posts photos that have been run through a filter to make her look white, admonishes her mother to “speak English,” and still somehow believes she might be elected prom queen. But as she walks the halls of her high school — pasted with massive blow-up portraits of (white) queens and kings of years past — we know it’s not to be.
But what if we’re wrong? Tucked into a boxy aspect ratio (all the better to signal the confines of her current life, an effective if obvious trick), Joan tries her damndest to be someone else, anyone else, even if that means abandoning her family to spend even a moment in head mean girl Olivia’s (Amelie Zilber) incredibly demeaning shadow. When the company behind her oft-used “Ethnos” filter messages her on Instagram, offering her a special treat for being a super-user, Joan goes along with it, mostly because she’s too fundamentally broken and empty to put up any sort of fight (or to show any actual curiosity for the insanity that’s about to unfold).
In one of many overly complicated set-ups, we soon learn that Ethnos is not just a social media filter, it’s also a “Substance”-esque clandestine corporation that specializes in ethnic reassignment surgery. Sounds bad! But when smarmy doctor and head Ethnos guy Willie (R. Keith Harris) offers up his services to Joan, she can barely sign on the dotted line (read: trick her poor mother into signing) fast enough. “If you can’t beat them, be them,” the bad doctor sneers at Joan, and who could possibly give a damn about any repercussions beyond the immediate joy of long blonde hair and instant entry into the rarefied world of the worst people at this, or any high school?
Of course, the moment Joan becomes “Jo Hunt” (now played by Mckenna Grace, believably both dazzled and horrified), the film’s aspect ratio pops right out, all the better to shepherd in the big-ness of this brand new life. That Jo is quickly taken into Olivia’s friend group — and touted for a prom queen berth to match — doesn’t surprise, but given the broadness of the film’s early acts, some of the other twists that follow do sting. Joan’s parents’ reactions are layered and complex, her shocked best friend Brindha (Maitreyi Ramakrishnan in a scene-stealing turn) is the only one willing to say how fucked this all is, and Joan/Jo is forced to contend with just how staggeringly shallow she really is.
Less satirical than it might sound, far more sad than any of its one-off comedic trappings (again: giant portraits of former prom queens line the hall, “Bottoms” would never) let on, “Slanted” soon seems to be careening straight toward tragedy that Wang doesn’t back away from. While Wang often swings too wide — “Slanted” gets really gross far too late, a twist involving Olivia feels totally out of left field — the bigger picture is a compelling one, rich with pointed questions and damning answers. Talk about an American nightmare.
Grade: B-
“Slanted” premiered at SXSW 2025. It is currently seeking U.S. distribution.
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