Andrew Ahn | 돌Dol (First Birthday) / 2011

a wall of separation

by Douglas Messerli

 

Andrew Ahn (screenwriter and director) 돌Dol (First Birthday) / 2011 [12 minutes]

 

Korean-American filmmaker Andrew Ahn’s second film, First Birthday, was, in part, his way of coming out to his family. Using his real family members as some of the actors, the film features the celebration of the “Dol,” the first birthday ritual celebration of the central character’s nephew.

     Nick Kim (Joshua Kwak) is a Korean-American gay man living with his companion Brian (Martin Lee) who attends the party without his friend, even though his sister brother and sister-in-law ask why he didn’t bring him to the event. Yet nothing else is spoken about his difference at the event, and it is clear, that Nick has not yet revealed his sexuality to his parents, just as Ahn had not to his own family, who asked him over the next several weeks while he was editing the film, to further reveal the overall plot.

   On that account the event, while beautiful in its own right—except for the constantly crying baby, which suggests that his nephew Benjamin is not a happy child despite the rush of love around him—it is a rather alienating situation for Nick, as so many family celebrations are for those in the LGBTQ community. As Letterboxd commentator Matt Collera puts it: “The main character feels like he's being tolerated rather than accepted, seen but not heard.”

    And, clearly there is always the desire—in this case expressed very obliquely by the attention

the two gay men give to their pet dog—to also be able to celebrate with the family the joy of having such a child. Nick’s face lightens and a smile comes to his lips the moment he is asked to hold his nephew for a picture, even as the baby breaks out anew in tears.

    Critic Jason Sondhi nicely summaries the situation:

 

“Because it is so personal of a story, Ahn is able to treat the conflict within the lead character with unusual nuance.  Key moments are related with held shots and knowing looks. Thematically it is sublime—the idea of being the “perfect son” is a very real pressure in Asian-American communities, and the idea of using the Dol as a stage to play out Nick’s shames is exquisite: his shame at not being the son he imagines his parents want, of, by not inviting him, failing to be the partner he should be to his boyfriend, and, mixed up within those two obligations, the painful feeling that  he will never fully participate in this important ceremony that connects his family through generations.”

    Nick returns home to find Brian sleeping, his lover awakening to ask about the event, without much of an answer. Nick simply sits beside him on the couch, and in a gesture that expresses all his sadness and emotional pulls leans his head on Brian’s chest. As for so very many gay men, the only way such quandaries can be resolved is through hugs and sex, the latter of which is played out soon after in the shower, as Brian joins his friend. Yet Ahn makes clear that not only is this not a voyeuristic moment for his audience but is not truly a full sexual event for the couple, as we see them only vaguely, behind the bubbled glass come together in an embrace. As another Letterboxd commentator describes the scene: “A wall of warped glass protects the vulnerable characters, yet prevents anyone from truly seeing them as they are.”

   Already in this sophomore production Ahn has made clear that his major theme is the almost impossible struggle to balance the experience of being gay with the traditional cultural values (in his case Asian) and family life.

 

Los Angeles, January 13, 2026

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (January 2026).