‘Beef’ Conveys the Struggles of First and Second-Generation Immigrants With Beautiful Poignancy
Representation matters.
There’s a scene in Lee Sung Jin’s latest Netflix dramedy series Beef (probably one of the most watched by now), where its protagonist, Danny (Steven Yeun), bursts into tears in a Korean church. The church’s praise band is performing the song “O Come to the Altar,” and he tries to join in but his emotions, all of a sudden, overwhelm him in a way he can’t control — he begins sobbing and we feel his pain immediately like it’s our own.
The reasons it works so powerfully are: 1) Beyond its religious connotations, the sequence is intimate and poignant because we know Danny tried to kill himself not long before this visit, and 2) Yeun channels the repressed feelings of lostness, frustration, and desperation of an entire generation with a raw vulnerability that connects on multiple levels. The actor and his family emigrated to Canada and then to the US when he was little, which adds a crucial layer to his character. So it’s not just what happens in the scene per se but what he represents that gets to us. As a first-generation immigrant, I can't stop thinking about this sequence and the entire show (easily one of the most gripping series of the year) that depicts the first and second-generation immigrant experience on an explicit and profound level I’ve never seen before.
There's no way around it: you only fully comprehend what it’s like to be a foreigner if you are one. In Beef, both Danny and Amy (Ali Wong) carry a generational trauma they hide from everyone, including themselves. They might have good intentions but aren't necessarily good people most of the time. They repeatedly make the wrong moves to selfishly serve their own interests. Their unprocessed (and unacknowledged) rage and envy stem from a tough childhood, being a child of immigrant parents.
In Episode 8, we see this first-hand. Danny is obsessed with his little brother Paul (Young Mazino), always looking out for him and making sure they never lose touch with each other. As an adult, he isn't much different, but he’s aware that he holds Paul back (often on purpose) because he knows his brother doesn’t need him anymore. Amy’s trauma and unhappiness come from her parents' dysfunctional and troubled marriage, which was tanked by her father's infidelity. Ultimately, that poisoned her childhood and made her estranged — which is one of the primary reasons for her inability to open up about her true feelings even to a therapist.
As immigrants, we often carry unspoken issues like those and an invisible emotional and mental pressure that weighs us down without knowing. We create expectations that are nearly impossible to meet. We work twice as hard to be successful and to make our parents proud, just to prove to them we can do it — that we can make it in a foreign country — even if the odds are heavily stacked against us. This is an unnecessary and often false notion that stems more from our subconscious than from our parents' true desires for us. And it pushes us down further and further until we crack under that pressure. Danny desperately tries to bring his folks back to California from Korea, but that’s more of a dream for him than it is for them. He also wants Paul to have a content life and career, but only if he gets to be by his side at all times. The truth is, he needs them more than they need him.
As immigrants, we yearn to carve out a place in a world we don't naturally get one while also honoring our (and our parents’) roots of where we come from. But that isn't always possible due to a cultural divide. Beef understands this gap perfectly and shows us how catastrophic things can go if we chase after something that we falsely think can be the source of our happiness. But in reality, we have no idea whether it will fulfill us or not.
Danny and Amy continuously act on their long-repressed anger because having an "enemy" gives them an outlet to unleash all of their frustrations, and a chance to blame someone else for their failures instead of identifying and facing what their lives lack. And the beauty of Beef is that — although they destroy all of their relationships because of it — they also find an unlikely connection with each other that forces them to own up to their mistakes and voice the truth they've been afraid of in their entire life.
I had a busy last few weeks, which meant a lot of writing. I reviewed Tiny Beautiful Things for That Shelf, wrote a personal essay about my struggle with anxiety, depression, and therapy through the lens of Ted Lasso for Paste, and I gathered some of the best The X-Files episodes written by Vince Gilligan for Den of Geek. And there’s hopefully more to come soon.
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