For a generation of Asian Americans, The Joy Luck Club was more than just a movie—it was a revelation. I was still a teenager when it came out, and I vividly remember the seismic shift it caused in the way I saw myself and my community. Here was a Hollywood film—backed by a major studio, no less—with an all-Asian cast, speaking English, talking about their mothers, their heartbreak, their humor, their humanity. It was the first time I saw people who looked like me centered in stories that felt personal and profound. And for the first time, I remember hearing someone call an Asian man on screen handsome. The actor was Russell Wong, who played Lin Xiao, and it cannot be understated how significant that moment was for me and probably thousands of young Asian men growing up in America.
To witness a reunion of the film’s four stars—Ming-Na Wen, Tamlyn Tomita, Rosalind Chao, and Lauren Tom—on stage at the Committee of 100 Conference in Los Angeles last Friday was deeply moving. Moderated by the trailblazing journalist Lisa Ling, the panel was equal parts reflection, sisterhood, and love letter—to their mothers, to their characters, and to each other.
Originally published in 1989, Amy Tan’s novel The Joy Luck Club tells the story of four Chinese immigrant women and their American-born daughters, weaving past and present across continents. Wayne Wang’s 1993 adaptation made history as the first Hollywood studio film in decades to feature a majority Asian cast. The film was groundbreaking then, and as the actresses made clear on stage, its legacy has only deepened with time.
“When I read the book, I thought, ‘Oh my goodness, this is—somebody else is me,’” recalled Chao. “And then the script was so beautifully intact with the mentality, that immigrant mentality of the book. I was in awe. And every role seemed so thoroughly fleshed out.”
Wen, now one of the most recognizable Asian American actresses working today, described the moment as a turning point. “I remember thinking at that moment, if this book was ever made into a film, I didn’t care if I was acting in it, if I was a PA in it, if I was serving coffee—I wanted to be a part of it,” she said. “And the fact that I had that script in my hand—it was overwhelming that it was actually happening.”
The camaraderie between the actresses was evident throughout the panel, with inside jokes, teasing, and moments of tenderness. At one point, Ling quipped, “June and Waverly are having a feud on stage here 30 years after,” as Wen and Tomita playfully bickered over who originally auditioned for which part.
None of the four actresses have sisters in real life, but they’ve become a chosen family in the years since. “We have text threads and it’s like sisters,” Tomita said. “Like a flock of birds… Some of us have to mute each other sometimes!”
When the conversation turned to their own mothers, the mood shifted—still warm, but more contemplative. Each actress shared stories of how their mothers reacted to the film, some emotionally, others more reserved. Tom described the impact the film had on intergenerational dialogue. “It provided a portal for people to have conversations with people in their lives,” she said. “Because when you can see something on screen that’s away from you and objective, it’s a starting place.”
Tomita’s reflections served as a poignant emotional anchor. “To realize that our mothers see us not just as daughters, but as women—as human beings—for the first time… that’s powerful,” she said. “When my mom saw The Joy Luck Club, she said, ‘That’s just like you.’ And for the first time, I think she really saw me—not just as her child, but as a person she helped raise.”
There was pride, too, in what The Joy Luck Club helped unlock. “That movie is shown in high schools here in Southern California,” Chao noted. “It’s part of the curriculum, which I’m very happy about because it shows empathy for the Asian American population—which we need.”
As the panel neared its end, Ling brought up the current challenges in the industry, particularly the backlash against DEI initiatives and the precarious footing of Asian-led projects. But the actresses were undeterred. “We just have to keep creating art,” Tom said. “Because I do think there’s hope. Some reboots I’ve worked on are recasting formerly white roles with Asian actors. That’s progress.”
Wen offered a practical call to action. “If you see a project you love, back it. Support it. Ask us what we’re producing. That’s how it starts,” she said. “It’s expensive to put up anything—whether it’s a web series or a feature film. But if you feel a connection to a story, reach out, ask how you can help bring it to life. That’s how change happens.”
Their awards that afternoon—presented by Academy president and original Joy Luck Club executive producer Janet Yang—were more than a recognition of legacy. They were a reminder of the work that remains. Adele Lim, who adapted Crazy Rich Asians—the first all-Asian studio film in 25 years since Joy Luck—led another panel during the weekend spotlighting rising stars like Desmond Chiam, Harry Shum Jr., and Sherry Cola.
The baton is being passed, but the origin story still matters.
“We’re still considered the other,” Chao said quietly. “But we just have to keep fighting.”
Tomita’s final words lingered long after the panel ended: “Our stories will never be put down. They will never not be told. We will always find ways to seep and leak those stories, no matter what policies or institutions or executive orders are being laid out there. Because people are afraid of the variety—the flavors and the spices of what it means to be American. We come from so many cultures, backgrounds, and heritages—and that’s the special, unique quality of being American. That we all choose to live together. To live amongst one another. And it’s that multifacetedness that makes each of us shine like a diamond. That’s why stories like Joy Luck Club still matter. Because they’re so specific—and yet so universal.”
