Heal your inner quarter-life crisis with Double Happiness, Mina Shum's underrated coming-of-age film

This is part of a series of essays in response to our recent project CBC Arts Presents: The 50 Greatest Films Directed by Canadians. We asked writers to choose a Canadian-directed film that they believe should have been included — particularly ones that fill the representational gaps in Canada's film history — and tell us why it deserves to be there.

As a film programmer with a focus on women in film, I'm always looking for hidden gems to share with new audiences. And as a movie lover, it feels like hitting the jackpot when I find one. Since films directed by women are often left out of the canon — sometimes glaringly so — by scholars, critics, and movie buffs, part of what I love about my job is bringing justice to all of the unsung films that deserve to be celebrated. 

Mina Shum's semi-autobiographical, feature-length directorial debut Double Happiness falls into this category. Despite starring national treasure Sandra Oh in her first film role and winning an honourable mention for Best Canadian Feature Film at the 1994 Toronto International Film Festival, it's still greatly underappreciated. It is an absolute 90s banger that should be talked about more — an endearing and funny film that oozes charm while embodying the essence of the decade.

The film follows twenty-something aspiring actor Jade Li (Oh) as she attempts to carve out her own identity while trying not to disappoint her traditional Chinese parents (Alannah Wong and Stephen Chang) in the process. There is the constant threat of her father disowning her, which we learn is what happened to her brother, Winston. This fear hangs over not only Jade but her younger sister Pearl (Frances Isles) and their mother, too. Between auditions for bit parts and dates with pre-approved suitors she has no interest in, Jade starts up a casual relationship with Mark (Callum Keith Rennie), a white graduate student she knows her parents would never accept. 

While the majority of well-known coming-of-age films centre around self-absorbed white characters, Double Happiness is a breath of fresh air in its representation of a young Chinese Canadian woman struggling to find herself as she is stuck between two worlds: the old-fashioned values of her parents and the independent life she actually wants.

This generational friction at the heart of the film provides the emotional stakes that remain relatable almost 30 years later. (The quarter-life crisis is real.) Thankfully we have movies like this to make us feel better about not having it all figured out just yet.

Double Happiness also marks the first collaboration between Shum and Oh, who later worked together on the equally excellent Long Life, Happiness, and Prosper (2002) and Meditation Park (2017). They are a match made in creative partnership heaven. Both early in their careers, there is a palpable excitement to the film. Oh shines particularly bright as Shum allows her the freedom to be playful and uninhibited. With pitch-perfect comedic timing, Jade is cool but accessible; sweet but edgy. In an alternate universe, this film would've catapulted Oh into movie superstardom, joining the ranks of other 90s It Girls like Winona Ryder and Parker Posey.

Despite some of its more sombre subject matter, Double Happiness is an incredibly warm film with plenty of joyful moments. In an early scene set at the dinner table, the camera is cleverly placed on a lazy Susan spinning around as the Lis chat and grab food with familial comfort. There's another particularly loveable scene in which an old family friend brings over a karaoke machine and everyone dances to "MacArthur Park" as Dad Li sings.

While Jade has a complicated relationship with her strict father, she shares a strong bond with the women in her life — namely her mom, sister, and best friend, Lisa, who all provide her with levity and support.

When I saw Double Happiness for the first time a few years ago, it became an instant favourite and comfort watch — one that feels familiar in the best way. As I sat there in my living room with the credits rolling, I immediately thought, "That was super rad and Sandra Oh is my everything." Then, I felt disappointed — and quite frankly robbed — that I hadn't seen it earlier. Jade, and by extension, the film, is like a cool, older sister I really would've loved to have through my teen years.

I'm grateful to have the film now, though, and hopeful that movie lovers will continue to discover it. With its spirited protagonist, self-aware humour, and distinct point of view, I am personally inducting it into the pantheon of revered Canadian films. And I will continue to spread the word about Shum's wonderful, resonant work that unabashedly centres women and their stories.

Watch Double Happiness for free on CBC Gem.