At two separate moments, including the lavish wedding reception, Grace Chang's "Wo Yao Ni De Ai" plays on the soundtrack, a choice that immediately reminded me of my own complex associations with my heritage. As someone who learned the value of understanding my native land and culture far too late, I came to know it, in one shape or another, through films from China, Taiwan, and Hong Kong. Chang's song also happens to play during Tsai Ming-liang's The Hole, in which Yang Kuei-mei and Lee Kang-sheng lip sync and dance to the track. The two uses could not be more different in terms of impact: Tsai's contains an actual sense of eroticism, longing, and exuberance; Chu's conveys a nauseatingly slick emptiness. Why should Asian-Americans wait twenty-five years for this shallowness? Why shouldn't they look to their homeland, flattened and hollowed out in this film, for a faithful, distinctive representation of Asian characters onscreen? Why should they settle for and embrace this?