The K-Town Killer

VAHAN BEDELIAN
When I was a kid training kickboxing, I would lie to my mom. She’d ask, “You’re not really getting hit at the gym, are you?” I’d tell her I was only taking the cardio classes. Meanwhile, I was very much getting hit, quite hard, and quite often. I confessed this to one of my coaches, and he responded that at one point in his life, he was fighting in stadiums without his mom even knowing that he was training. And then he said something that would become the genesis of this story: no mother wants to see their child get hit in the head.

This film is inspired by the lives of different martial artists I have known throughout my career: people like Marie “The Angry Korean” Choi, a former teammate of mine, and a professional Muay Thai fighter who lives up to her nickname. After receiving her blessing, I wrote the first draft of a script about a Korean American fighter nicknamed “The K-Town Killer” who is hiding her career from her mother. At the time, I was living in the same apartment unit in which we would eventually shoot the film six years later.

Before that time, however, the COVID-19 pandemic hit, and with it came an increase in hate crimes against Asians. The videos of random attacks, particularly those against the elderly, upset me more than anything else I’ve seen. I grew up around a large Asian American population. Many of the people who have meant the most to me in my life have been Asian, including members of the cast and crew of the K-Town Killer. I saw my friends’ parents in those videos: people who invited me into their homes and fed me as a kid.

So, I wanted “The K-Town Killer” to be about more than a fighter hiding her career. I wanted it to be about an Asian American person defending their parent and doing it in a way that is volatile and disruptive of stereotypes, particularly of Asian American women.

HEALIN KWEON
Part of growing up is realizing that it is easier to teach a 5-year-old why 1+1 equals 2 than to change your 50-year-old parent's mind. The difficulty of understanding each other is even greater when it comes to a Korean mother and daughter, especially in this uneven world rapidly parting ways from traditional thinking.

I should say it has been quite confusing when it comes to my mom's intentions. “Look how fat you are.” My mom’s favorite phrase about my body shape as she wakes up every morning to make me something to eat so I don’t go to school with an empty stomach. “That’s not for girls, you shouldn’t do that.” Another one of my mom's favorite phrases as she wishes the world for me and prays for me to have a better life than her.

I think my deepest insecurities were created by my mom. At the same time, she’s my biggest supporter. I have no doubt that without her, I wouldn’t have survived this long. But I would feel better about myself and be more confident about what I want to do without some of her remarks. The comments about my body and personality, sometimes hurtful and lingering, came from my mother in the name of love and hope that I wouldn't be rejected by the patriarchal ideals dominating our society.

So, we fought. We fought a lot, developing this interesting love-hate relationship. You fight with your parents until you start to notice them getting smaller, their wrinkles getting deeper, and their hair getting whiter. So, you decide to stop fighting; you find understanding and compromise through lies. What might not notice is that they are lying as well. However, there comes a moment when you can no longer lie and hide the identity of the woman you have become: the moment when you see your parent being disrespected and needing protection.

The first year I moved back to the United States it was just me and my mom living in Koreatown. One night I got into a verbal fight with our landlord when he risked my mother’s safety to save money. All my life I was taught not to talk back to my elders, especially men. But I screamed at him for so long and so loud that all the neighbors came down to check their mailboxes at the same time.

I will never forget what my mother said after I stood up to that man and defended her “Please don’t do that outside, especially in front of men. It looks bad for a woman to shout loud.”
I could not relate more to Grace and Sally, the mother and daughter in "The K-Town Killer". It is a story that focuses on the two women who are the closest but at the same time farthest away, who care about each other, but also hurt each other. I hope this bittersweet story touches many Graces who are seeking their mother's approval and many Sallys who have devoted their lives to bringing up their daughter in this unfair world.