“Easter Sunday” (2022) revolves around Joe Valencia (Jo Koy), a stand-up comedian who has been trying to transition from touring to a more stable career on a sitcom, but he does not want to sell out to do it, i.e. put on a fake Filipino accent. His family is annoyed with him focusing more on his career than them so he decides to go home for the titular holiday, but has to juggle a lot of balls in the air to keep things moving forward.
Regardless of how I feel about “Easter Sunday,” I am annoyed that it was released in August and not an actual Easter weekend. I need an explanation for this decision. It seems like a money slam dunk to offer a more secular alternative to Bible movies. Allegedly it did not want to compete with “Morbius” (2022), and that was dumb. Apples and oranges—the audiences are different: actual people who may not ordinarily see movies versus a handful of people who will watch anything related to Marvel even knowing that Sony made it, and it was going to be shit. As one of the rare groups of people who somehow fits both categories (I love holiday themed movies) despite loving myself, hands down, “Easter Sunday” wins in a competition.
The second weekend after release, there is only one showing of “Easter Sunday” per day, and that is one too many. I went into the film with low expectations. I was hyped for the holiday theme. I was excited to see Filipino representation on screen. I am unfamiliar with Filipino culture, but as someone who lived in New York with a registered nurse mom, Filipino people have been out here and are long overdue to get some love. They are still owed.
Koy cannot act. “Easter Sunday” is generous with contriving situations so Joe ends up with a mic and starts doing stand-up: at church, in a mall and at home because when Joe is not doing stand-up, and/or interacting with another comedian, he is stiff as hell. If I visited church and saw him in the pulpit, I would know in that instant that God did not exist and never go back (and I am talking as a Jesus follower). You can see the wheels turning in his head. He veers from exasperated straight man to trying too hard attention seeker. His funniest moment is delivered off screen in a post credit scene with Tiffany Haddish. It makes sense that Joe cannot get a sitcom the way that Koy plays him. He is often the least funny person on screen. He is not ready for this opportunity…yet.
“Easter Sunday” is at its best as a visual love letter to California and Filipino culture, but instead of sticking to showing and not telling, Koy is given the responsibility of being the docent to his teenage son about all the cool things. Presumably this is not the child’s first trip to grandma’s house in Daly City, right? For instance, as they were packing the Balikbayan box, the script was already showing an organic way to explain it to the audience with family members competing to put best contents inside, but then everything screeches to a halt to explain it. (For Caribbean folk, translate to barrel.) While awkward, it is not the nail in the coffin.
The nail in “Easter Sunday” was the shoe-horned tangle with local toughs. I came to the film under the belief that it was based on Koy’s real life so if his real life consists of store brand “Fast and Furious” car chase scenes and underground markets of merch, then I guess that I am not interested in his life. Someone is not ready to really tackle Koy’s life story because we don’t get to know his family members.
“Easter Sunday” had potential as a drama, but pulled punches there too. Joe jokes about his mom’s unintentional physical abuse, but by the end, he finds a way to make her the good guy and brush it aside, which is fine if it is his reality. He complains about how his son has it too easy, and his son comes around that his dad is great for working so hard to provide for him. With films like “Everything Everywhere All at Once” (2002) balancing the reality that people do the best that they can, and they still can fail and even be abusive, this film felt as if the second generation needs to listen to the third generation. Koy and his team of writers do not get it, and it explains why they don’t want to spend anytime with the family where the gold is. They have unresolved trauma and need to make peace with their past to embrace the funny. Sorrow and humor are inseparable.
The closest that “Easter Sunday” gets to complexity is Tala (Eva Noblezada), a character miscredited on IMDb as Ruth. She takes Joe’s son aside, “We don’t talk to our parents like that up here, bro.” It is a great moment because she is right that he does not appreciate what his dad does for him and owes him some level of respect, but on the other hand, he is right. Joe never spends time with his family. He is not present when he is there.
I grade movies on a curve and as a comedy, “Easter Sunday” did not make me laugh out loud. I wanted Joe to spend more time with his family. At least they, especially the women, were funny when Koy was not busy sucking all the oxygen out of the room. The best scenes are any scene with Regina (Elena Juatco), Joe’s sister, who should get charges for stealing every ounce of attention when she is too infrequently on screen and the way that the Titas handled the criminals. I need the exact quote about how Filipinos handled historical challenges and still bring the laughs. It was badass and hilarious. Also I don’t know Lydia Gaston as his mom, but that pink suit at the end was super cute, and I loved her. I do not recall seeing Tia Carrere since “Wayne’s World” (1992), and she needs to press charges because she should have been an It girl and had more high-profile projects considering her talent and hotness. Outside of the family, there is a cameo, which almost makes the lame criminal angle worth it, but there had to be a better way to bring him in. Maybe he should have played Joe? Again, really great to see him, and I won’t spoil the surprise. He still has it!
“Easter Sunday” means well, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Hell would be a step up. While it has some good moments, Koy stands in the way of them.
