Yellow Face

The bulk of this play was very good, quite insightful about what it is to be Asian American, and an interesting adaptation of real political incidents. It was hard to like at first, though, because the opening comedy was...uh, not honest. How should I say, it seemed to discuss Asian Americans in a way that was intended to make the White Man laugh. I mean, for most Asian Americans, I doubt that David Carradine being cast in Kung Fu is a real issue anymore. Nor is "taped up slanty eyes" (whatever the hell that was).

To be honest, I'm not even sure I get all the hype about Asian Americans in the media. Who decided that Hollywood was such a great job that it was something Asians should WANT representation in? I believe a lot of Asians - including myself - would feel repulsed and demeaned to be mixed up in all that trash (well, unless I'm the media person BEHIND the camera...hire me as a writer!!). I'm as offended as the next person when the media start playing up stereotypes, but if we're going to pay attention to what trash are saying about our people, our time would be better spent listening to politicians.

But I digress. The other major flaw with this otherwise fine play is the end. The playwright actually had the nerve to make one of his characters (named David Henry Hwang) dissertate about the themes and structure of this play! Talk about self-indulgent! I could almost hear him whacking off to himself in the wings. Then he tries to avoid the label of self-indulgent by having the character admit it would be self-indulgent to have an autobiographical character named after himself. Nice try. It might have worked if there weren't that other character crying out, "You mean that all this time I've just been a character in your play?!"

Ugh! Suddenly I felt an urge to cut someone.

ADDENDUM: Shit! I just found out that my aggressiveness was fueled by envy. DHH started writing plays at Stanford, went on to the Yale school of drama, and became an Asian identity spokesperson. FUCK ME. I wanted to do that!