The musical artist-turned-filmmaker is a curious creature—it is, after all, a bold claim to presume that, just because you’re talented in one field of entertainment, that it will naturally translate to another. Sometimes it works: For every Rob Zombie (whose mixed-bag filmography at least includes stone-cold classics like “The Devil’s Rejects”) or the gonzo imagination of Prince’s “Under the Cherry Moon,” we get Bob Dylan directing “Renaldo and Clara” or Madonna’s “W.E.” Even when the artist isn’t behind the camera, film history is replete with semi-autobiographical stories of high (“Purple Rain”) or very low (last year’s Weeknd trash fire “Hurry Up Tomorrow“) who want to channel their personal and artistic struggles to the big screen. Multi-Grammy-award-winning soul artist Anderson .Paak‘s “K-Pops!” is somehow both and neither of those things: it’s the directorial debut of an artist adapting his own life to cinema, sure, but rather than an aching artistic statement, it’s an inoffensive, disposable trifle more focused on self/star power than the genre that shares its title.
Perhaps that’s too much pressure to levy on a film like “K-Pops!”, which feels tailor-made to be the kind of cutesy streaming-friendly original you can show your kids who are into Korean pop music (or, more cynically, riding the coattails of the massive runaway success of “KPop Demon Hunters,” right down to one hastily ADR-ed line that all but confirms it). Here, .Paak plays BJ, a talkative aspiring LA musician still trying to hit it big—in the opening minutes, we see him hit it up in his youth with a cute young Korean woman named Yeji (Jee Young Han), only for their relationship to fizzle out because he just couldn’t stop prioritizing his music. Cut to today, where he travels to Korea at the recommendation of his mom (Yvette Nicole Brown) and best friend, Cash (actor/rapper Dumbfoundead), to take a gig drumming for an “American Idol”-like competition show called “Wildcard,” which pits young, hungry K-pop hopefuls against each other for a chance at fame. BJ wants to use this chance to get in on the ground floor and work his way up—especially as, as he explains, K-pop, like most genres of popular music, has its roots in Black musical traditions anyway.
It’s here, though, that he makes an unlikely discovery: the youngest and least well-rated contestant on the show, Tae Young, just so happens to be his biological son by the estranged Yeji. (He’s also played by Soul Rasheed, .Paak’s real-life son.) He never knew she was pregnant, or that she’d moved to Korea after their split. Now, BJ’s plans and priorities have to change drastically as he learns to be a father to the son he never had while also coaching him (and some other K-pop misfits) to crush their competition on “Wildcard.”
The curious thing about “K-Pops!” is how awkwardly it straddles the lines of personal passion and crass commercialism. On the one hand, .Paak has been open about his journey to reconnect with his son through the lens of K-pop, and this feels like the kind of film he wanted to make to further that bond. On the other, its presentation is firmly unimpressive and conventional, with its sitcommy presentation and unflashy cinematography. The film has the feel of a network TV show, with bright, flat lighting and easy-to-secure locations—the actual K-pop dance sequences suffer most, with little of the flash and pageantry that we associate with such a spectacle-heavy genre. (Given K-pop’s massive popularity on the world stage, as evidenced by certain demon-hunting hits, this film misses a golden opportunity to explore what makes it so unique—most of what we’re told is in quick expository PowerPoint presentations and flashy montages of “Wildcard” footage.)
Indeed, there are a lot of ingredients going on in this particular jigae, and not all of them synthesize. BJ’s contention that K-pop music is just Motown by a different name is a compelling thesis, but it’s not much developed beyond repeating that point ad nauseam. It’s not helped, of course, that .Paak studs the film with cameo after cameo, almost in a reckless attempt to get his celebrity/musician friends to help him make a movie. (Jaden Smith shows up as one of the “Wildcard” judges; Saweetie and Kurt Franklin appear in a dream sequence in a church; one particularly self-flattering setpiece lets .Paak play drums alongside Earth, Wind & Fire at the Seoul Hard Rock Cafe.) Throw in some pretty creaky product placement for, of all things, the Ally banking app, and the line between art and corporate-sponsored vanity project begins to blur.
And yet, it’s hard to deny that there’s a bubbly charm that helps coast you through the admittedly mighty two-hour runtime, buoyed chiefly by .Paak’s more grounded moments as a comedian and his natural chemistry with the effervescent Rasheed. Their back-and-forth feels more natural than any of the “New Girl”-adjacent banter he shares with Dumbfoundead or Nicole Brown, try as they might to inject some energy into their roles. But it’s curious that, in a film that styles itself as “‘School of Rock’ for K-pop,” the most invigorating exchanges are simply BJ and Tae Young hanging out at a Korean spa, quizzing each other on their favorite movies or foods. When the film isn’t focused on them, .Paak comes across as an overeager ham, hoping his bright smile and colorful Bao Tranchi-styled outfits will carry scenes that can’t sustain their own vadpinss.
It’s almost a blessing that “K-Pops!” is maybe the healthiest, sunniest example of an American artist leveraging his life story into cinematic form. This isn’t a story of overcoming a hard childhood, drug abuse, or a life on the streets—it’s a cozy father-and-son story about a man learning to be a dad through embracing his child’s interests. It’s a testament to .Paak’s own journey, and the seemingly healthy relationship with both this genre of music and his child, that this movie eschews so many of those struggle-bus tropes. I just wish it translated to something with a bit more oomph, rather than another blandly sincere family film.
