APIAnionated: Starring Jerry As Himself: You Remind Me of My Father
In “Starring Jerry As Himself,” the titular Jerry (Jerry Hsu) is a retired divorced father who reminds us that he is a fallible human, maybe like how we see our parents, namely our fathers, as adults. He is the producer’s father. The words “based on a true story” glow on the screen. With no need to work, his daily routine lacks structure. Having worked hard and saved diligently, he believes he has achieved the American dream — working as a civil engineer to support his family. First, we see him in an 80s home video doing standup. Joy is etched on his face. Then, his sons appear rapidly also through home video sketches. Storytelling has rubbed off on his family. Then it’s the present day — Jerry’s adult sons visit their parents’ houses before a family gathering. Their mother shows off her brightly lit house. Jerry’s apartment is dark, maybe ominous. Everyone gathers at a restaurant to hear Jerry’s important announcement. We flashback to the moment when Jerry is beckoned on a quest. He receives an urgent call from the Chinese police, accusing him of an international money laundering scheme. He needs to prove that he’s innocent by sharing his accounts or deportation to China. Inspector Ou (Fang Du) and Officer Zhang (Haosong Yang) grow close to Jerry — he feels pride again as a person. They easily persuade him to make large bank transfers and spy on bank tellers. He’s a valuable informant. But this soon shakes his trust in the systems around him leading to devastating consequences.
Children of immigrants immediately feel guilt — our parents worried about us and we rarely returned their care. Jerry and his family invite us into the story — yes, partly due to the documentary frame, but soon we learn about what has transpired in Jerry’s ensuing “adventure.”
The film’s published synopsis describes a story about a man becoming an international undercover spy but with dad vibes. It emphasizes that it’s mind-bending. The hybrid form asks to imagine in different ways — nonfiction invites observation and fiction invites participation. Before the film, you would think that this is a thriller — an informant just trying to do the right thing for the right people. It’s truth or for some, the emotional truth. The film is a retelling of the events that happened to Jerry — replayed for the screen by Jerry and his family members.
But spoiler alert: Jerry falls victim to a scam. If you’re Very Online, you recognize this the moment the scammers make contact, and this looming threat hangs over the entire film. It’s distracting because you’re thrust from a thrilling chase to anxiety about his choices. You’re at the edge of your seat not because you’re excited about what will happen next, but rather because you’re worried about what will happen next.
We are spectators on this journey based on a true story. Yet, as adult children of immigrant parents, we also experience helplessness and frustration while watching Jerry make decisions without fully comprehending the consequences. There’s a certain kind of helplessness you reach when you’re an adult and your parents are growing older. Your parents reached retirement age and it’s easy to become isolated once their responsibilities — namely taking care of you — faded. Maybe you’re taking care of them. Maybe your adult responsibilities led you to move away. But you have trusted that your parents can take care of themselves because they took care of you.
The fictional side of the film creates a space where we can vividly imagine our parents falling into similar traps. I did, especially, wondering if my parents were aware. After the film, I immediately asked my parents if they ever received a phone call like the one Jerry did. At first, they said, “Of course not, we’re not stupid.” It was partly a silly question, asked in a moment of anxiety — the phone call was targeted at Mandarin speakers. My parents immigrated shortly in the 1960s and 1970s from Hong Kong and naturalized as US citizens years ago. My dad said that he hung up when he received the call, not understanding Mandarin. My mom, who understands Mandarin because she enjoys Chinese soaps, laughed, because it didn’t make sense — why would she be deported when the family has no connection or assets in mainland China?
But when I pressed further, my dad, a retired engineer with a Ph.D. and master’s at US universities, admitted that in the early days of the internet, he received a message claiming that the FBI had taken control of his computer and demanded payment at a local CVS. He almost fell for it, but luckily, my mom intervened. I was at college, unaware, and likely would have been unsympathetic — it was obviously fraud! My dad’s friend fixed the computer and it was fine. Their pension and investments remained safe.
During the post-screening panel, the director Law Chen suggested that staying in touch with our parents helps prevent these scams. But parent-child relationships are more complex. The final act of “Starring Jerry Himself” dives into this complexity and asks us this question: What if adult children and parents pursue their dreams together? Chen admits that he was looking for a happy ending — where Jerry is vindicated, but this ending, where the act of creation provides catharsis, gives Jerry what he needs to move on.
I imagine that for every film when you see yourself in someone’s shoes — where a character makes a decision — be it a child or parents, your anxiety rises and you reach out. Is that what this film is meant to do? It certainly did, for me. I nudged my companion who is estranged from his parents. Yes, this film raised his worry. Loneliness increases when people get older and scams like this prey on those feelings. But the only thing that we can do is to take the step is recognize and maybe reach out — it can be not just for our parents, but everyone else too.
