Joy Ride (2023) | Film Review

No, Joy Ride is not an audacious remake of that seminal Paul Walker “classic” about an out-of-control maniac trucker. Rather, this is a road trip adventure akin to Girls Trip if it tripled down on the raunch and cast four hilarious women that are quite maniacal on their own.

Audrey (Ashley Park) is a successful lawyer on the brink of a deal that will make her career: close a new client in China, and she wins the keys to the castle to be made partner. Adopted by a white family in America, Audrey has Asian roots which fuels her with an identity crisis of sorts as she never truly feels accepted by either culture.

When Audrey is expected to travel to China to lock up the deal, her childhood best friend Lolo (Sherry Cola) joins her as an experienced translator. Lolo is an artist with a huge fixation on anything sexual, even going so far as to design a 3D porn playground. Lolo also believes Audrey needs to find her birth mother so that she can finally put that piece of her past to rest.

Along for the ride is Audrey’s college pal and aspiring actress, Kat (Stephanie Hsu), and Lolo’s oddball K-Pop obsessed cousin, Deadeye (Sabrina Wu). Kat is an instant adversary in the best friend race with Lolo, and Deadeye is desperate for any relationship that exists in the outside world, apart from her modern online existence. When Audrey’s client demands to meet Audrey’s mother to demonstrate her Chinese sensibilities, the race is on to hunt her down before the end of the week…or the client takes his business elsewhere.

It’s refreshing to have R-rated comedies back in the fold, especially with a cast as talented as this one. Ashley Park is a strong lead, carrying the thematic weight of the movie while allowing more than a few insane diversions of her character. Sherry Cola gets the raunchiest of dialogue, spitting out sexual innuendo at the same rate-of-fire as an AK-47, and holds her own as the emotional center for Audrey’s spiritual journey.

Sabrina Wu takes a bit to find her character’s footing, but once she does, Deadeye’s plight resonates with needed poignancy. Then there’s Stephanie Hsu, hot off her Oscar nom for the brilliant Everything, Everywhere All at Once. Hsu’s Kat is probably the biggest swing in the film, as she ranges from innocent-seeming waif to orgasmic nympho in the span of a few minutes, and Hsu is game for every insurmountable challenge. No dirty joke or concept seems too far for her, and Kat ends up being a personal favorite of the foursome simply by Hsu’s commitment to the absurdity of the role.

This cast is delightful, the concept is engaging, and the film is overall enjoyable. Unfortunately, it is also a bit lost in translation. While there are earnest elements, 75% of Joy Ride is raunchy comedy, and then the final act derails from that aspect to focus more on the emotional side of Audrey’s journey. On their own, either take would be welcome and this cast would crush it, but slamming the brakes on the audaciousness to slow down and take a deeper dive creates a bit of a jarring (and predictable) conclusion to an otherwise uproarious comedy. It’s a tone shift that works more because of the built-up goodwill the cast has established, rather than the film itself has earned. (There is a completely unnecessary K-Pop bit that just doesn’t really click either, but I’ll allow it because, once again, the cast sold it).

When director Adele Lim focuses on these friends and their wild hijinks, Joy Ride is an absolute winner. If the final act could have stayed the course, this could have been a comedy classic for a new generation. Instead, Joy Ride comes to an end as an enjoyable romp with a promise of better things to come for all involved.

Joy Ride releases nationwide in theaters July 7, 2023
Starring Ashley Park, Sherry Cola, Stephanie Hsu, and Sabrina Wu
Screenplay by Cherry Chevapravatdumrong and Teresa Hsiao
Directed by Adele Lim