‘Miss Saigon’: Better Late Than Never

Filipino actor Jon Jon Briones as the Engineer in the 2014 London revival of ‘Miss Saigon’

This is kind of a big deal for me. 

I think that one of the major artistic issues of the last quarter-century or so was Broadway’s casting controversy over the musical Miss Saigon in 1990.  The event has now faded into the nether reaches of time and memory, but it’s something that’s been sticking in my craw ever since. 

Most of you are probably familiar with the title Miss Saigon, the sung-through musical, adapted from Madame Butterfly by tunesmith Claude-Michel Schönberg and lyricist Alain Boubil, the French team behind the wildly popular musical staging of Les Misérables.  Under the producership of Cameron Mackintosh (who also produced Les Miz, Cats, and Phantom of the Opera, among other shows), Miss Saigon premiered on London’s West End in 1989 with Welsh actor Jonathan Pryce in the lead male role of the Engineer, a pimp who runs the brothel in war-torn 1970s Vietnam that indentured the young prostitute title character, Kim.  (This was after a worldwide search to find a specifically Asian actress to play Kim, finally finding Lea Salonga in the Philippines.)  The logic of the musical’s plot calls for the Engineer to be a Vietnamese national, but a white actor was cast in the role, the creative team said, because the character was “Eurasian.”  However, nowhere in Miss Saigon’s original lyrics (since revised) is the character’s European heritage mentioned, nor is such a heritage germane to the story.  Ostensibly, the Engineer was a full-blooded Vietnamese who was labeled “Eurasian” merely to accommodate a white actor in the role.  And Pryce opened the role of the Engineer in the West End wearing eye prosthetics to give his eyelids an epicanthic fold.  In 1990, the year after its London premiere, Mackintosh announced that he planned to bring Miss Saigon to Broadway the following year and to have Pryce reprise his role as the Engineer in New York. 

In 1990, I was friends with a number of Asian American actors, and I would often hear stories of their struggles about being racial minorities working for an industry whose primary goal was to attract the majority white audience.  This meant that not very many roles were written for ethnically Asian performers, and if a role wasn’t written specifically as a character of color, I was told, minority actors would seldom be considered for it.  This meant that my Asian American thespian friends didn’t work all that often, and they needed to support their acting careers with day jobs.  Complicating this was the practice of “yellowface,” which is the derogatory nickname for applying cosmetics (of any color) to white actors in order for them to play Asian roles.  So, in 1990, the playing field was decidedly tilted: Caucasian actors — not only because of their talent, but also because of their race — had many opportunities in the entertainment industry, but Asian American actors had few.  Also, the industry, through the practice of “yellowface,” enabled white actors to play Asian characters without a commensurate practice to enable Asian actors to play white characters. 

When it opened in 1991, Miss Saigon boasted Broadway’s first Asian male lead (non-supporting) role in 15 years, since the Stephen Sondheim musical Pacific Overture in 1976.  In all that time, Asian American actors were — for all intents and purposes — “racially disqualified” from playing male leads on the Great White Way.  Miss Saigon’s Engineer would have been a great opportunity for an ethnically Asian actor to open a lead role on Broadway, but with Mackintosh’s announcement that Pryce would re-create the character in New York, that rare possibility was whisked away. 

Jonathan Pryce, wearing eye prosthetics, in the original 1989 London production of ‘Miss Saigon’

Because Pryce was a British national, Mackintosh had to apply for an H-1B visa (a visa which means that no one else can do the job) for him to appear on Broadway, an application that needed to be approved by the American performers’ union, Actors’ Equity, to go forward.  Advocates of Pryce’s participation in the production called it an example of “non-traditional casting” (see below).  The Asian American actors and their supporters complained to Equity that Broadway’s first Asian male lead in 15 years was automatically going to an actor without any racial constraints on his career and that no Asian actors had been seriously considered for the part.  After some discussion, Actors’ Equity denied Pryce’s application for an H-1B visa, issuing a press release to explain their position:

Today [August 8, 1990], the Council of Actors’ Equity resumed its deliberation regarding the proposed casting of Jonathan Pryce in the Broadway production of Miss Saigon.  After a long and emotional debate, the Council has decided it cannot appear to condone the casting of a Caucasian actor in the role of a Eurasian and has therefore voted to reject the producer’s application to permit Mr. Pryce, who originated the role of the Engineer in London, to recreate his performance in the American production.  

Equity’s decision is in no way meant to reflect on Mr. Pryce, whose excellence the Union, once again, acknowledges.  

The question of Mr. Pryce’s appearance at [sic] the Engineer has prompted a long-overdue public debate over the issues of non-traditional casting and the lack of job opportunities for ethnic minority actors, in this instance, those in the Asian community.  

Actors’ Equity was created by actors to protect the actor and improve employment conditions.  When Equity membership believes that they are in some way being humiliated or ignored, the Union is bound to investigate the claim and respond.  The casting of a Caucasian actor made up to appear Asian is an affront to the Asian community.  This casting choice is especially disturbing when the casting of an Asian actor, in this role, would be an important and significant opportunity to break the usual pattern of casting Asians in minor roles.  

The Asian community of American Equity actors has strongly supported the Union’s condemnation of the proposed casting of the Engineer in Miss Saigon and has urged the Union to reject this application, in full awareness that many jobs may be lost to actors of Asian background if the production is cancelled.  

For years, ethnic actors were denied access to roles that were not expressly written for the ethnic performer.  To put it another way, ethnic actors were largely excluded from working in the theatre.  In response, Actors’ Equity has vigorously advocated the creation of equal casting opportunities for its minority members.  Equity originated the use of the term “non-traditional casting” as an avenue of increasing employment for minority actors.  This policy is defined as the casting of ethnic actors in roles where race or gender is not germane to the character.  Non-traditional casting was never intended to be used to diminish opportunities for ethnic actors to play ethnic roles.  The contract agreed to by Equity and the League of American Theaters and Producers provides that all parties agree “to continue their joint efforts toward, and reaffirm their commitment to the policy of non-discrimination, and to an on-going policy of furthering the principles of equal employment opportunity.  It is the desire of the parties that employment opportunities for Equity’s multi-racial membership be improved, and that the stage reflect a multi-racial society” (emphasis added).  [Emphasis and parentheses in original.]

The producer, Cameron Mackintosh[,] was quoted in the Sunday Times of London as stating that “I subscribe to the view that acting roles should be played by the best person and that colour of skin has got nothing to do with it.”  The casting of Mr. Pryce would not be so objectionable if Mr. Mackintosh was also willing to apply this standard elsewhere and cast visibly ethnic actors in the numerous productions of Les Misérables which have created nearly 400 jobs for Equity actors.  Instead, Mr. Mackintosh and the producers of other shows have insisted all too often that the text of a play does not allow the casting of ethnic actors and have consistently refused to consider the talent of minority members for employment.  

The “exhaustive search” for an Asian actor to play the role of the Engineer has been much publicized, but, as Geoffrey Johnson, of Johnson, Liff, and Zerman, and one of the casting directors for Miss Saigon has stated, the search was centered on casting the character of Kim, the young Asian girl in the production.  No actor but Mr. Pryce was seriously considered for [the role of the Engineer].  In fact, one leading Asian-American actor who was mentioned to play the Engineer reports that his representative returned a call he received but was never contacted again.  [I understand that the Asian American actor in question was John Lone, who had recently starred in the Oscar-winning The Last Emperor.]  Further, it has been claimed that no Asian actors have had experience in starring roles and they cannot carry the weight of a Broadway play.  This becomes a self-fulfilling prophesy [sic] unless and until this cycle of casting is broken.  

The assertion that Equity’s refusal to condone the casting of Mr. Pryce reflects an anti-British bias is without foundation.  During the last three years alone, Equity has admitted more than 160 British actors as stars, as “actors providing unique services,” as members of unit companies and as part of the exchange under the reciprocal agreement between Equity and British Equity.  

The Council’s decision in this matter has been a most difficult one.  But Equity must continue to affirm, indeed press, its policy of non-traditional casting and to object whenever it, as here, is exploited.  To allow Miss Saigon to appear as cast without a strong expression of Equity’s displeasure would be a betrayal of those producers and directors and casting directors who have made every effort to encourage and enlarge the Asian talent pool by casting Asian parts Asian as well as casting other roles non-traditionally with Asian actors.  

Equity and its membership are well aware of the threat that we comply with the demand [to approve Pryce’s casting] or we will be punished by the loss of jobs.  

Finally and once again, Equity states that the producer retains the right to bring this matter to arbitration.  Should Mr. Mackintosh refuse to avail himself of this contractually prescribed remedy and cancel or postpone this production of Miss Saigon, lost employment and lost revenues are ultimately his responsibility.  

Equity has vigorously and consistently raised the issue of opening up the casting of numerous Broadway productions in order to break down the barriers facing minority actors.  Indeed right now Equity has tried to schedule a meeting to review the casting practices of not only Les Misérables, but other plays in which the lack of ethnic actors is dramatically evident.  

Equity invites the press to take an in-depth look at ethnic casting in the American theater instead of sensationalizing one example.  

The debate should not end with this decision.  (quoted in Theater Week, IV, 2, August 20, 1990, pp. 17-19)

Mackintosh had clashed with Actors’ Equity a number of times over the years over other issues, so he might have seen the union’s decision as more of a power play than as a principled position.  Although he had the option, as the press release states, to take Equity’s decision to arbitration, Mackintosh instead indignantly announced the cancellation of Miss Saigon’s Broadway production, saying that Equity had denied Jonathan Pryce a job “because of his race.” 

For all of the ink that Equity spilled writing the announcement of its decision, it didn’t do very much good, because I doubt that very many people read it.  After Mackintosh announced his decision to cancel Miss Saigon’s Broadway production, most mainstream news outlets castigated the union’s decision.  Much discussion abounded that the theatre was a place of make-believe, where actors play people other than themselves, and therefore Equity’s decision was unreasonable.  Some misrepresented the union’s position as calling for ethnically specific casting, as though Equity were declaring that only Danish actors could play Hamlet, say, or only Greek actresses could play Medea.  But racial discrimination against Asian American actors in hiring received extremely little attention.  This somewhat sarcastic opinion piece written for Time magazine by Japan-based Indian-British journalist Pico Iyer (who I think ought to have known better) captures the tenor of discussion at the time:

[Equity’ was] raising some highly intriguing questions.  How can John Gielgud play Prospero when Doug Henning is at hand?  Should future Shakespeares — even future August Wilsons — stock their plays with middle-class whites so as to have the largest pool of actors from which to choose?  And the next time we stage Moby Dick, will there be cries that the title part be taken by a card-carrying leviathan?

What is the title of Iyer’s essay?  “The Masks of Minority Terrorism.”  Yes, Iyer calls those struggling for racial equality “terrorists.”  I’m sure that Asian American actors will be flying airplanes into skyscrapers any day now. 

I was very dismayed that racial discrimination against minorities in casting — the motivating issue of the Miss Saigon controversy — was pushed to the background in coverage of the story.  Equity was portrayed as wrong in every regard, and virtually the only mention of Asian American actors in the press was all of the supporting (!) roles that they would lose if Mackintosh’s cancellation of the production weren’t rescinded. 

Producer Cameron Mackintosh in a recent photo

Of course, as the history books now say, Mackintosh prevailed: Equity reversed its veto of Pryce, who opened the role of the Engineer on Broadway without the eye prosthetics that he wore in London.  Also, Pryce won the Tony that year for Best Actor in a musical, perhaps as an apology by the Broadway establishment for that nasty little thing that Equity did.  (The theme of the Tony broadcast of 1991, hosted by Julie Andrews and Jeremy Irons, was the British presence on Broadway, which suggested an attempt to make amends for any perceived anti-British slight on Equity’s part.  If the Tony’s theme that year had instead been the Asian American presence on Broadway, the show would have had a lot less to work with.) 

Despite my dismay over how Miss Saigon’s casting controversy played out (there was another controversy over whether the show’s arguably stereotypical Asian characters were worth playing in the first place), I was glad to see an apparent effort on the part of the entertainment industry to increase minority visibility in the media and to cast Asian roles with ethnically Asian actors.  Even Cameron Mackintosh seemed to accept the core of Equity’s argument: after Pryce stepped down from the role in 1992, his replacements have all been ethnically Asian actors.  Of course, the situation today for minority — and especially Asian — actors is far from perfect, but given the vilification in the media of Equity’s rejection of Pryce, and the constant cries of “reverse discrimination,” I’m surprised that the issue of racial discrimination in casting came to be treated so seriously. 

But also in the intervening years, histories of Broadway and other mainstream chronicles of the past still mention Equity’s veto of Pryce (when they mention it at all) as a mistake, as an example of the union shooting itself in the foot, as a “bluff” called by the intrepid Mackintosh.  So, over last weekend, I was pleased beyond measure when I read this passage in the on-line version of Britain’s Telegraph newspaper, for a story it printed last year on Miss Saigon’s 25th anniversary production on the West End:

As far as Miss Saigon is concerned, Mackintosh believes his biggest mistake was not foreseeing how much of an issue the casting of Jonathan Pryce in the leading Eurasian role of The Engineer would prove in New York. “I said it was a storm in an Oriental tea-cup, thinking I was being clever. I was actually being stupid.” He now accepts that those who argued that the character should be played by an actor of Asian descent had a valid point.

“A valid point.”  That’s what Equity tried to make in 1990 — and was vilified for its troubles.  I don’t think that anyone (including myself) wanted to prevent Jonathan Pryce from appearing in Miss Saigon.  Equity, reports say, was hoping that Mackintosh would take its decision to arbitration, where the issue of racial discrimination in casting could be given a proper hearing before Pryce was approved.  The fact that Mackintosh didn’t take the decision to arbitration — the fact that he stubbornly cancelled the production until Equity changed its position — has long suggested that he saw the union’s veto as utterly without merit.  I’m glad finally to see in black & white, 25 long years after the controversy, that Equity’s and the minority actors’ argument has won.  Better late than never. 

‘The Heat Is On,’ a behind-the-scenes documentary of the original 1989 London production of ‘Miss Saigon’

‘Miss’-ing the Point

My last two blogposts about controversies over casting in the entertainment industry bring to mind Miss Saigon.  The furor that erupted in 1990 over casting a white actor in the Broadway musical’s Asian male lead remains, to me, the mother of all casting controversies.  It sticks in my mind because the press and public discourse at the time barely recognized Asian American performers as a group that did not have equal opportunities in the entertainment industry — and the reason they didn’t have those opportunities was because of their race.  For this post, I have reprinted a slightly modified version of an article that I wrote about the controversy in 2000, marking the dispute’s tenth anniversary:


Ten years have now passed since the tumultuous casting controversy over the musical Miss Saigon.  Back in August 1990, many Asian Americans exploded with anger when the powerful British theatrical producer Cameron Mackintosh (Cats, Phantom of the Opera) cast a white British actor, Jonathan Pryce, as the Asian male lead, the Engineer, in the Broadway transplant of the original London production.  (Pryce had originated the role on London’s West End wearing eye prosthetics to make him look more Asian.)  The Asian American actors took their grievance to their union, Actors’ Equity, saying that they were not seriously considered for a rare Asian male lead on Broadway.  Equity agreed and denied the British actor approval to obtain an H-1B visa and play the role in the U.S., saying that Mackintosh hadn’t cast his net wide enough and that a white actor in a lead Asian role was “an affront to the Asian community.”  Mackintosh then indignantly claimed that Equity had denied Pryce a visa “on the basis of his race” and announced the cancellation the Broadway production.  (Mackintosh had the option of taking Equity’s decision to arbitration but chose not to.)  By then, Miss Saigon had already racked up a then-record $25 million in advance ticket sales, and New York City was hoping that the musical would bolster a financially lackluster season on Broadway.  Here is how I describe the events elsewhere:

The response by the press and the Broadway elites [to Mackintosh’s cancellation] was swift and severe: Equity was being “racist” against Pryce. Little mention was made of Asian American actors routinely denied the opportunities to star on the mainstream stage. All the punditocracy could see was a white man victimized by “reverse discrimination.” Equity eventually backed down. Pryce opened the Engineer on Broadway in 1991 sans prosthetics, and he was awarded the Tony for Best Actor in a Musical, perhaps as an apology by the Broadway establishment.

Jonathan Pryce wearing eye prosthetics as the Engineer in
the 1989 London production of ‘Miss Saigon’.  Pryce discarded
the prosthetics when the musical moved to Broadway in 1991.

The Miss Saigon controversy erupted in an effort to raise awareness about the paucity of opportunities for Asian American performers.  A decade later, it may be said that Asian actors have a somewhat higher profile in the American entertainment industry, and producers appear to be more conscientious about casting Asian roles with ethnically Asian thespians.  Still, outside the Asian American community, the Miss Saigon dispute is widely remembered as a clear-cut case of “anti-white racism.”  Meanwhile, within very vocal parts of Asian America, it’s considered to be either a “war” that was won or a “battle” not worth fighting in the first place. 

To some, the musical’s most important issue isn’t its casting, but its stereotypical characters, for Miss Saigon is merely an uncritical re-telling of the opera Madame Butterfly with the setting transposed from early-1900s Japan to wartime Vietnam.  The musical’s title character, Kim, is a Vietnamese prostitute who falls in love with a (white) American G.I., bears his child, and kills herself when she realizes that she and her love can never be together.  

The history of the Miss Saigon controversy is covered in Helen Zia’s book Asian American Dreams (2000; no longer in print), and her excellent chapter on the contentious dispute deserves a wide readership.  In her book, Zia quotes actor B.D. Wong, one of the prime movers behind the grievance against Pryce’s casting, as saying,  “We may have lost the battle, but we won the war.”   Apparently, Wong is referring to the fact that after Pryce stepped down from playing the Engineer in 1992, the role has been filled only by ethnically Asian actors.

But in an article for (the now-defunct website) aOnline, Oliver Wang writes: “Miss Saigon’s very plot — regardless of who is cast in the roles — is already problematic, forcing Asian characters into the role of either victim (Kim) or villain (The Engineer).  One wants to ask B.D. Wong, what war are we winning when our actors and actresses are only afforded these kind of roles to play?”  Implying that Asian American performers should avoid playing characters like those in Miss Saigon, Wang concludes by saying: “[N]ow that Asian America is in its third decade as a political entity, isn’t it time we stopped capitulating to simple economics? Asian American actors deserve to find work, but Asian Americans as a whole deserve to have cultural productions that are free of racism and stereotypes.”

However, this exchange raises two important questions: First, was the “war" over Miss Saigon, in fact, “won” by the Asian American community?  Second, how will not “capitulating to simple economics” guarantee “cultural productions that are free of racism and stereotypes”? 

Asian Americans protest ‘Miss Saigon’s’ racial stereotypes on the opening
night of the musical’s Broadway premiere in 1991.  Photo by Corky Lee.

Was Miss Saigon a victory for Asian Americans, as B.D. Wong says?  Although Pryce has been succeeded on Broadway exclusively by Asian actors, he was largely viewed by the press and the public in 1990 as the victim of “reverse discrimination.”  Coverage of the casting controversy seemed to assume that Asian American performers have just as many opportunities as white performers to open lead roles on Broadway.  Therefore, it was implied, any objection to a white actor in Miss Saigon’s Asian male lead was unreasonable.  (The Miss Saigon creative team called the Engineer “Eurasian,” I believe, solely to accommodate a white actor in an otherwise full-blooded Asian lead role, because nowhere in the musical’s original lyrics is any reference made to his European ancestry.)  However, the Engineer was, in actuality, Broadway's first Asian male lead (non-supporting) role in 15 years (since Stephen Sondheim’s Pacific Overtures in 1976).  And Asian American actors decried Pryce's casting not so much because he was white, but because no other actor was seriously considered for this rare Asian male lead on Broadway.  Still, as Zia succinctly summarizes: “The news story became focused on ‘less qualified’ Asian actors who were insisting that they should get the part held by a white male star, solely because they were Asian and he was white.”  Meanwhile, Mackintosh was portrayed “as a besieged white male who did not cave in to racist demands by Asians.” 

Editorials were overwhelmingly against Equity and the Asian American performers, and some opinion pieces used the issue to argue against affirmative action in general.  But their obloquy obscured more subtle aspects of the controversy.  “Remember this name: Cameron Mackintosh,” opined conservative columnist George F. Will.  “He is the British producer who, by standing up for artistic freedom and against today's trendy racism [i.e., affirmative action], told some American liberals that he will not be party to their traducing of this American...principle: It is wicked to allocate opportunity on the basis of race.”  Given this rhetoric, one wonders what role Miss Saigon played in other rollbacks against affirmative action, such as the passage of Proposition 209 in California in 1996. 

But it’s hard for a critical reader not to detect some hypocrisy in championing Mackintosh as the defender of a “colorblind” world.  To the contrary, the producer had indeed used race as a criterion in casting the role of Kim.  After all, only ethnically Asian actresses were considered eligible to audition for the part.  The musical's official coffee-table book, The Story of Miss Saigon, openly says that the show’s creative team “were determined to have as many real-life Asians in the cast as possible; Madame Butterfly-type make-up, though suitable enough for opera, would, they knew, be inadequate, especially for the female members of the cast.  Also, the physical demands made on performers in Miss Saigon required an authentic Asian litheness and grace.” 

The book, however, never says exactly what an “authentic Asian litheness and grace” is, or why Asian makeup was “inadequate” for the female performers but adequate enough for Pryce, who opened the role of the Engineer in London wearing prosthetics to give his eyes an epicanthic almond shape, a kind of make-up that critics call “yellowface.”  Yellowface is viewed very negatively among Asian Americans because the make-up has historically been used to allow white performers to play Asian roles, thus diminishing opportunities for ethnically Asian actors, while no commensurate tradition has allowed Asian actors in the West to play roles of another race.  The controversy’s coverage in the press obscured this important question: Why is it acceptable to have a racial criterion for casting an Asian female lead, but “racist” to have one for casting an Asian male lead?  Why the double standard?  No one in the press bothered to ask because they were too busy attacking the “ethnic separatism” of the Asian American community. 

‘Miss Saigon’ producer Cameron Mackintosh in a recent photo

In fact, Mackintosh and Equity’s official position is that Pryce “never wore ‘yellowface’” for his role as the Engineer — even though photos and films of the actor in the London production clearly show him in Asian make-up.  After the union reversed its decision barring Pryce, Mackintosh and Equity met behind closed doors to hammer out a “Statement of Mutual Understanding” regarding Miss Saigon’s casting.  Asian American representatives were actively excluded from the negotiations.  The resulting statement acknowledged that Pryce had indeed worn eye prosthetics, but it asserted that such make-up did not constitute “yellowface.”  To most Asian Americans, a white actor portraying an Asian is considered to be yellowface whether make-up is used or not.  But in this situation, it was Mackintosh who had the power to define just what the word “yellowface” meant. 

The ten years since Miss Saigon have marked a noticeably higher profile for Asian American actors, but one which could be higher still.  Subsequent years have seen the emergence of performers such as Lucy Liu, Russell Wong, Jason Scott Lee, Margaret Cho, the women of The Joy Luck Club, and a few other Asian American thespians to near-star status.  And in the wake of Miss Saigon, producers and casting directors seem more conscientious about casting ethnically Asian actors in Asian parts.  For example, one wonders if Disney would have made such a concerted effort to cast Asian voice actors — performers who aren't even seen by the audience — in most of the animated feature Mulan’s Chinese roles if it hadn't been for the casting controversy.  So, to a certain extent, something may very well have been gained from the imbroglio over a maudlin Madame Butterfly knock-off.  If the role of the Engineer needed to be sacrificed in order to ensure that Asian American actors could play characters who are less stereotypical, then the sacrifice was well worth making. 

But despite Miss Saigon’s high profile ten years ago, the U.S. entertainment industry has still not acknowledged any binding responsibility to cast minority roles with minority actors, who are usually underemployed compared to their white colleagues.  Whether a non-white character is played by a non-white actor is still seen as a decision solely at the creative team’s discretion.  In fact, in 1992, two years after the Miss Saigon dispute, a Hollywood production company cast a white actress as Frida Kahlo in a biopic of the revered Mexican painter.  When Latina actresses — deprived of yet another rare opportunity to play a Latina lead — protested the casting, the production was canceled, and the aggrieved Latinas were castigated in the industry press as “reverse racists.”  To many, the studio’s intransigence suggested a replay of Mackintosh’s tactics in Miss Saigon.  Clearly, if the industry can keep non-white actors out of “bad” non-white leads, like the Engineer, it can keep them out of good ones, like Frida Kahlo, as well.

Granted, as an art, the freedom for a producer to cast a role with the performer of his or her choice should be protected under the First Amendment, and no legislation should interfere with this freedom.  But as a business, the entertainment industry has the responsibility to make sure that arbitrary obstacles do not artificially restrict the advancement of an entire racial group.  Indeed, the question that the Miss Saigon controversy ought to have posed to the public is this: How do we reconcile free-speech rights with equal-opportunity rights when the two come into conflict?  Unfortunately, the press's focus on Mackintosh’s side of the dispute and the presumption of “reverse racism” against Pryce prevented the question from being asked in any meaningful way.     

For there to be a real “victory” in the casting dispute, the entertainment industry will need to stop using yellowface as a means to exclude Asian American talent from the spotlight.  In an article for A. Magazine in 1996 (which has since ceased publication), Hugh Son wrote of the Miss Saigon controversy: “To many, this public outcry served as yellowface's obituary — a declaration that the practice wasn't acceptable, period.”  But even as he wrote, Son acknowledged that the revived Kung Fu television series (Kung Fu: The Legend Continues), starring David Carradine, was perpetuating the exclusionary tradition. 

Alex Borstein as Ms. Swan on ‘Mad TV’

Today (2000), on the Fox comedy series Mad TV, non-Asian comedian Alex Borstein may occasionally be seen as the recurring character Ms. Swan, a nail-salon owner whose sketches all revolve around her inability to speak and understand English in a competent manner.  There are no Asian American actors in Mad TV’s regular cast.  To play Ms. Swan (originally named “Ms. Kwan” but mysteriously rechristened after her first sketch), Borstein dons a black wig, and while she doesn’t wear heavy prosthetics, she still makes up her eyes to look more almond-shaped.  Responding to complaints from Asian American viewers, Mad TV’s producer Dick Blasucci said of Borstein: “She's not in ‘yellowface.’  We do not do that.  They keep telling us we do, but we don’t.  She does not get into yellow makeup.”  Although Borstein is clearly altering her appearance to look more Asian, the meaning of “yellowface” is once again being decided by producers outside the Asian American community. 

Blasucci doesn't deny that the Ms. Swan character is supposed to be Asian, but he says: “[W]e’ve never come out and said it.”  This seems to be the lesson of Miss Saigon to entertainment producers: keep practicing yellowface, just don’t be up-front about it.  So, by these measures, it’s doubtful that the “war” over Miss Saigon was really won at all.  Reports of “yellowface’s obituary” are evidently exaggerated.  

However, some Asian American media critics — those who think that the “war” over Miss Saigon wasn't worth waging — would simply say that they wouldn't want to see an Asian American actress playing Ms. Swan any more than they’d want to see an Asian American actor playing the Engineer.  Both characters, to these critics, are mere stereotypes.  But this is missing the point.  As long as yellowface is passively accepted by American audiences as just another theatrical convention — while blackface, by contrast, has fallen into disrepute — few will question the racial politics of such an exclusionary practice.  And as long as white actors continue to play prominent Asian roles while Asian American actors are not extended commensurate opportunities to play leads of any race, the Asian presence in American culture will remain marginal.  More importantly, if white actors are unquestioningly accepted in Asian roles, this will only make stereotyping more pervasive: Asian American actors will not have the opportunity to bring their first-hand understanding of Asian culture to an Asian character. 

For all of these reasons, the barring of Asian American actors from playing Asian roles in the U.S. must be challenged whenever it arises, regardless of how “one-dimensional” a role might seem.  Also, the misrepresentation of equal-opportunity rights for Asian Americans as “anti-white racism” must always be exposed as the fraud that it is.  This isn’t to say that the issue of stereotyping is unimportant — quite the contrary — but the routine exclusion of Asian American actors from the spotlight won’t increase an audience's awareness of Asian people.  And Asian American indifference to the racial politics of casting won’t make Asian stereotypes go away. 

*          *          *

So, what do I think now, 12 years on?  Opportunities for Asian American actors have gotten markedly better, but they could be better still.  Thanks in part, I think, to the economic power of the Asian American demographic market, Asian faces are now much more conspicuous in American advertising — especially being shown as average, everyday U.S. citizens — and I think that this has done much to blunt the once-pervasive perception that Asian people are perpetual, unassimilable foreigners in America.  Similarly, Asian faces are now widespread on U.S. network television, with many (but not enough) primetime TV series including at least one Asian character among its ensemble — epitomized by Korean Canadian actress Sandra Oh’s scene-stealing supporting character in the medical drama Grey’s Anatomy (2005- ).  Oh, yes, and the character of Ms. Swan is no longer on the air.

However, most of these Asian parts are still supporting characters, or secondary co-starring roles at best.  We haven’t yet seen a breakthrough that would put an Asian American performer on par with his or her white colleagues.

One positive development has been the appearance of Asian action stars from abroad in Hollywood productions: Jackie Chan, Jet Li, Chow Yun-Fat, and Michelle Yeoh.  But this phenomenon was largely restricted to the action genre (especially kung-fu) and relatively short-lived.  Plus, the Hollywood productions starring these overseas celebrities were of varying quality.  For example, if one compares the excellence of Jackie Chan’s Hong Kong movies to the usually execrable quality of most of his Hollywood starring vehicles, it appears that Tinseltown’s investment in the star was only halfhearted.  And the current fading of these personalities from the U.S. media spotlight confirms that their Hollywood careers were a mere flash in the pan.  It’s a bit sardonic that the single most enduring overseas action star of this generation — who owes his Hollywood career in part to the Asian influence on the U.S. entertainment industry — is the English actor Jason Statham.  But more important, from my perspective, is that the brief trend of Asian-national action stars in Hollywood didn’t enable the emergence of any Asian American stars.  

Lucy Liu

The one big exception to all of this is the career of New York-born Lucy Liu, who, since my article was written in 2000, became the unexpected breakout star of the TV dramedy Ally McBeal (1997-2002).  This enabled her to receive above-the-title co-starring roles in the Hollywood action movies Shanghai Noon (2000), Charlie’s Angeles (2000), and Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever (2002), as well as a number of supporting roles in high-profile films like Chicago (2002).  But when her 2003 Charlie’s Angeles sequel disappointed industry executives and her one solo starring vehicle for the big screen, Rise: Blood Hunter (2007), vanished as soon as it appeared, Hollywood seemed to lose interest in her.  She has since returned to TV but hasn’t yet repeated her initial success in that medium.

And a semi-exception to this are the careers of John Cho and Kal Penn with their Harold and Kumar trilogy.  But outside of this comedy series about two Asian American stoners — a series that only came about due to the persistence of its white creators, Jon Hurwitz and Hayden Schlossberg — both Cho and Penn have had trouble playing anything other than supporting roles in Hollywood.  Also, while the many independent Asian American films have facilitated the careers of some behind-the-camera talent, such as director Justin Lin, they haven’t done the same for their in-front-of-the-camera talent.  

But perhaps the Asian American presence is greatest in the new media of the twenty-first century.  Such phenomena as YouTube and computer-streaming video are redefining exactly what is meant by “entertainment industry” now that audiences can easily produce videos on their mobile phones and upload their images onto the Internet.  YouTube has allowed the emergence of such high-profile Asian American video creators as KevJumba, HappySlip, and Wong Fu Productions.  And this has considerably increased the visibility of Asian Americans in audiovisual media.

So, in short, the Asian American presence in the U.S. entertainment industry is a mixed bag.  But it’s currently much more conspicuous than it was back in 1990, during the Miss Saigon controversy.  And despite what appears to be resistance from the front offices, there’s every reason to hope that this presence will be even more conspicuous in another 12 years.  Perhaps we will finally see the emergence of the first A-list Asian American Hollywood star to stand alongside the Brad Pitts and the Sandra Bullocks.  But I believe that this will take longer to come about without public outcry whenever the industry — however unintentionally — snubs its Asian American talent and relegates them beneath a racial glass ceiling, as it did during Miss Saigon.



A Wong Fu Productions video on YouTube


Update, September 26, 2013: Lucy Liu is back on series television in the successful Sherlock Holmes update Elementary, which begins its second season tonight, with the actress as Dr. Joan Watson.  Is this the first time that Dr. Watson has been portrayed as a woman?  As far as I can tell, Liu is the first to play the doctor him-/herself as female.  However, a Watson figure opposite a character who mistakenly believes himself to be Holmes has been played by actresses twice: Joanne Woodward as Dr. Mildred Watson in the feature film They Might Be Giants (1971) and Jenny O’Hara also as Dr. Joan Watson in the TV movie The Return of the World’s Greatest Detective (1976).  Both characters were psychiatrists to the deluded men whose belief that they were Holmes (George C. Scott in the former and Larry Hagman in the latter) endowed them with superior sleuthing skills.  (Incidentally, movies that updated the character of Holmes from the Victorian and Edwardian eras to contemporary times had been the norm until the 1939 version of The Hound of the Baskervilles.)  However, Liu’s performance appears to be the first time that Watson has been portrayed as Asian to a Western audience.  (But she is not the first ethnically Asian performer in the West to play the role in a mainstream production: a white-passing Ben Kingsley [born Krishna Bhanji] played Dr. Watson in the 1988 Holmes comedy Without a Clue.)  I don’t think that mainstream U.S. media creators would have cast such a character as ethnically Asian back in the days of Miss Saigon.

Yellowface Top Ten

This essay originally appeared at YellowWorld.org in 2003.

The voice of outrage at Angry Asian Man.com muses that he will write a list of a “Top 10 Yellowface Roles” “just for kicks.” Sounds like a good idea. So, while the angry guy is working on his roll call, I thought I’d come up with one of my own.

Yellowface, for those who don’t know, means an Asian role played on stage, screen, or TV by a non-Asian actor, often — but not always — using heavy appearance-altering make-up. For decades, the mainstream U.S. entertainment industry has cast non-Asian actors in prominent Asian roles while seldom, if ever, allowing the reverse. As a result, Asian American actors do not have equal opportunities to play prominent roles on Broadway or in Hollywood, and the Asian image has been shaped largely by creators with sometimes misguided notions of who Asian people are.

In a more perfect world, Asian American actors would have equal opportunities to play roles of any race in the media, and in such a parallel universe, yellowface wouldn’t be a big deal. But as long as Asian American actors must struggle to be thought of on the same playing field as their Caucasian colleagues, and as long as limited and ill-informed portrayals of Asians continue to be so pervasive, yellowface will remain a contentious issue. Here is my ranking of some particularly important examples:

10. David Carradine in KUNG FU (1972-75)

As far as yellowface performances go, David Carradine’s Amerasian Shaolin monk, Kwai-Chang Caine, roaming the Wild West on the TV show Kung Fu survives as one of the least objectionable. Rather than affect a heavy Chinese accent and broken speech patterns — which might have been expected in earlier years — Carradine spoke only haltingly and in complete sentences. Moreover, Carradine, whose appearance was believably half-Asian, wore very little make-up to essay the part. Perhaps more than any other work of the early 1970s, Kung Fu brought Chinese culture, an awareness of Asian American history, and the eponymous martial artistry into U.S. living rooms. But Carradine’s casting still leaves a sour taste in the mouths of many because several people say that Kung Fu was originally developed by martial artist extraordinaire Bruce Lee as a starring vehicle for himself. However, according to a documentary on Kung Fu’s DVD, the television project was originated by writer Ed Spielman, and Bruce Lee, who auditioned for the role of Caine, was not involved in the series’ development.  Nevertheless, Carradine is still resented in some quarters for playing a part that many believe should have gone to an Asian actor.

9. Larry Blyden in FLOWER DRUM SONG (1958)

When Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein’s musical Flower Drum Song (based on the novel by C.Y. Lee) premiered on Broadway in 1958, the stage exploded with more Asian talent than any mainstream show had likely ever seen. Featured in the cast were actress-singers Miyoshi Umeki, Pat Suzuki (pictured), and Arabella Hong. However, the pivotal lead role of nightclub owner Sammy Fong went to Larry Blyden, a Jewish American actor from Texas. Things could have been worse: at least Blyden played his character as an acculturated American without any exaggerated Asian accent or broken English. But one is left to wonder why — after making such an effort to cast the female roles with Asian actresses — the producers settled on a non-Asian to play such an important male Chinese American character. Fortunately, when Flower Drum Song was turned into a movie in 1961, the role of Sammy Fong was re-cast with Japanese American actor Jack Soo (né Suzuki), who played a smaller role in the Broadway premiere. The film version of Flower Drum Song, with its virtually all-Asian cast, has all but erased memory of Blyden’s yellowface.

8. Joel Grey in REMO WILLIAMS: THE ADVENTURE BEGINS (1985)

A nominee for the Academy Award for Best Make-Up, Remo Williams: The Adventure Begins employed impressive facial prosthetics to transform the very Caucasoid thespian Joel Grey into Chiun, the title character's (Fred Ward) Korean martial-arts instructor. Except for a slightly unnatural facial paralysis, Grey’s make-up is extremely realistic, and his affectation of Asian mannerisms is quite convincing to the average audience member. But all of this extraordinary artistry leaves one question ringing in the mind: Why did the filmmakers go to all this trouble when they could have more easily cast an Asian actor in the role? One senses that Remo Williams exemplifies Hollywood’s tendency to show off. “Look at what we (white people) can do,” the movie nudges. Ultimately, Grey’s performance in Remo Williams seems to regard Asian people as a mute object upon which Caucasian exceptionalism is played out. We are supposed to marvel at how “realistically” a white actor can transform himself into an Asian character and at how Hollywood’s make-up artists have mastered their craft. Asian people themselves don't really enter into it.

7. Warner Oland

The Swedish-born, American-raised actor Warner Oland made virtually an entire career out of playing Asian characters — from “Oriental” villains in Pearl White serials to Fu Manchu to Charlie Chan. (He is pictured at left in 1929’s The Mysterious Dr. Fu Manchu.) But what set him apart from his Asian colleagues in Hollywood was that Oland was also able to play non-Asian roles, such as Cesar Borgia in Don Juan (1926) and Al Jolson’s cantor father in The Jazz Singer (1927). While some admirers still laud Oland for what they see as the integrity and dignity of his Asian characters — particularly the heroic Charlie Chan — others are dismayed by what they see as ignorance and condescension. Still, Oland's busy and lucrative life-work stands as a disturbing reminder that a Caucasian actor could make a career for himself in Hollywood by specializing in Asian roles, while authentically Asian performers at the time had to struggle much harder for acting jobs.

6. Sean Connery in YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE (1967)

In this fifth entry into the fabled movie cycle, British super spy James Bond is sent to Japan. At one point during his stay on the island nation, 007 must undergo facial surgery in order to pass for Japanese. After a while on the operating table, stitched together by a scantily dressed surgeoness, the secret agent emerges looking like a droopy-eyed white dude who’s had too much to drink. Nevertheless, this laughable look is deemed convincing enough to fool the locals. You Only Live Twice was not the first time that a white hero was surgically transformed into an Asian. The trope can be found at least as far back as First Yank in Tokyo (1945), a World War II-era adventure in which a Euro-American agent undergoes plastic surgery and is sent behind enemy lines. The message is another clear example of white exceptionalism: With minimal effort, whites can master all things Asian — regardless of how laughable such “mastery” might look to Asian people themselves. Critical viewers are left wondering: If these films needed spies to blend in with the Japanese populace, why didn't they simply send agents who were culturally and ethnically Japanese? Ah, but such a question would be churlish.

5. Alex Borstein as Ms. Swan on MAD TV (1997-2002)

The creative forces behind the sketch-comedy series Mad TV must have known that they were treading on volatile ground when they unveiled their slant-eyed, gibberish-speaking, bowl-haired manicurist called Ms. Kwan, played by non-Asian actress Alex Borstein, in 1997. After amply demonstrating her poor ability to speak or understand English in her first sketch — the source of the character’s alleged humor — she was quickly rechristened Ms. Swan. And not long after that, Borstein and the show’s producers went to great lengths to deny that the character was Asian, saying that she was from the fictional country of “Kuvaria.” Borstein publicized that Ms. Swan was based on her European-immigrant grandmother, and that her appearance was inspired by the Icelandic singer Björk. But as others have remarked, it’s difficult to view this character and not think that she’s supposed to be Asian. (After all, how many manicurists in the U.S. are from fictional countries?) Ms. Swan was a sobering reminder that Hollywood still regards Asians as fair game for race-based humor. And Mad TV’s disingenuous handling of Asian American complaints against the character remains instructive. But perhaps the most intriguing thing to arise from the controversy was the ridiculous extent that the creators were willing to go in order to deny the character's Asianness. The moral of the story: Keep practicing yellowface, Hollywood, just don't be honest about what you’re doing.

4. Boris Karloff in THE MASK OF FU MANCHU (1932)

British writer Sax Rohmer (the pen name of Arthur Sarsfield Ward) created his villainous Chinese character Fu Manchu in 1913, at the height of the “yellow peril.” Like many other Westerners, Rohmer saw the Chinese as anathema to his Occidental culture — and perhaps bent on its destruction. A seemingly indestructible criminal mastermind, Fu Manchu became the embodiment of the West’s anti-Asian fears, spawning many imitations and filmed adaptations. A number of Caucasian actors have played Fu, including Warner Oland, Christopher Lee, and Peter Sellers. But The Mask of Fu Manchu, starring Boris Karloff in heavy facial prosthetics — perhaps more than any other film — works to demonize Asian racial features as inherently evil. The film’s first shot of Fu depicts him working in his laboratory next to a distorting mirror. The mirror twists Karloff’s already nefarious-looking cosmetics into a misshapen visage of pure evil. Asian features, the film practically screams, are not to be trusted. Although Fu Manchu himself has not been seen on the big screen since the farcical death gasp The Fiendish Plot of Dr. Fu Manchu (1980), Hollywood still hasn’t stopped featuring Asian villains as the racially marked antagonists to non-Asian heroes. Only now, the villains are played by actual Asian actors. Some call this progress.

3. Mickey Rooney in BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY’S (1962)

What The Mask of Fu Manchu does to vilify Asian racial features, Breakfast at Tiffany’s does to make them inherently laughable. But where The Mask of Fu Manchu’s yellowface inhabits a pulpy, high-adventure atmosphere that need not be taken seriously, Breakfast at Tiffany’s caricature of Asian facial traits occupies an otherwise verisimilitudinous vision of contemporary New York. Donning false buck teeth and eye make-up, Mickey Rooney portrays the Japanese character of Mr. Yunioshi as a funny-looking buffoon whose speech is garbled and actions inept.  While Breakfast at Tiffany’s was very popular in its time — indeed, Audrey Hepburn’s Holly Golightly became something of an icon, and the movie’s theme song, “Moon River,” is still a standard for crooners — Rooney’s performance today is very painful to watch for anyone with a modicum of racial sensitivity. It’s clear that the filmmakers see Yunioshi’s exaggerated Asian features as an aberration from the Caucasian norm and as a source of humor in and of themselves. When looking from Mr. Yunioshi to Ms. Swan, one is dismayed to see how little has changed in 40 years.

2. Harold Huber and June Duprez in LITTLE TOKYO, U.S.A. (1942)

The main reason why this movie is not at the top of the list is because it has faded from popular memory. But in its day, Little Tokyo, U.S.A. exemplified yellowface at its most pernicious. While other works had used Asian make-up to ridicule or vilify Asian features, this B movie used yellowface directly to deny a group of Asian Americans their civil rights. The story, set in late 1941, follows tough Los Angeles cop Michael Steele (Preston Foster) as he investigates a series of crimes involving the local Japanese American community. The story gradually reveals that the crimes are to cover up a Japanese American cabal’s efforts to facilitate Japan’s bombing of Pearl Harbor. After the horrific military attack, the Japanese American community’s demonstrations of pro-U.S. patriotism are portrayed as patently insincere. Policeman Steele tracks the crime trail to an American-born spy for Tokyo, Takimura (played in yellowface by Harold Huber). Takimura is shown to represent that even Japanese Americans who are born in the U.S. can’t be trusted. Takimura tries to throw Steele off the case by enlisting a neighborhood Japanese American vixen, Teru (English actress June Duprez), to seduce him. If Little Tokyo, U.S.A. had been made 20 years later, Teru and Steele might have consummated the seduction. But this being the miscegenation-phobic ’40s, Takimura instead murders Teru and frames Steele for the crime. Nevertheless, Steele ends up proving his innocence and busting the spy ring. The movie ends extolling the necessity for the Japanese American internment. In retrospect, knowing that not a single charge of espionage was ever brought against a Japanese American during wartime, this sensationalistic story reeks of racist propaganda. Granted, the film would not have been any better if Japanese American actors had played these propagandistic roles. But Little Tokyo, U.S.A. stands as a cautionary reminder of just how horribly a community’s image can be distorted when it’s not there to represent itself.

1. Jonathan Pryce in MISS SAIGON (1991)

The rancorous tone of racial debate at the end of the 20th century was set in 1990 with the Miss Saigon casting controversy. Legendary British theatrical impresario Cameron Mackintosh (Cats, Phantom of the Opera) first staged this musical, an updating of Madame Butterfly, on London's West End in 1989. Mackintosh and his creative team scoured the world in search of an Asian actress to sing the title character, finally finding Lea Salonga in the Philippines. But when it came to casting the Asian male lead, the Engineer, Mackintosh settled on the Welsh-born actor Jonathan Pryce. No world-scouring search was deemed necessary, and Pryce opened the role of the Engineer wearing heavy eye prosthetics. As Mackintosh was making arrangements the following year to bring Miss Saigon to Broadway, he let it be known that he planned to have Pryce reprise his performance. A white actor was acceptable in the role, Mackintosh said, because the character — despite a lack of evidence in the libretto — was “Eurasian.” When the Asian American creative community found out, they protested to their union, Actors Equity. The Asian American actors — who were hardly ever allowed to play leads of any race on the Great White Way — noted that they were not being seriously considered for this rare Asian male Broadway lead role. After much discussion, Equity vetoed Pryce’s application for a visa to work in the U.S. because Mackintosh had not cast his net wide enough. Although he was aware of the Asian actors’ discontent, and although he had the option to take Equity’s decision to arbitration, Mackintosh canceled the Broadway production — which had already grossed a then-record $25 million in advance ticket sales — indignantly claiming that Equity denied Pryce a job because of his race. The response by the press and the Broadway elites was swift and severe: Equity was being “racist” against Pryce. Little mention was made of Asian American actors routinely denied the opportunities to star on the mainstream stage. All the punditocracy could see was a white man victimized by “reverse discrimination.” Equity eventually backed down. Pryce opened the Engineer on Broadway in 1991 sans prosthetics, and he was awarded the Tony for Best Actor in a Musical, perhaps as an apology by the Broadway establishment. More than any other issue, Miss Saigon exemplified the mainstream’s insensitivity to the entertainment industry’s discrimination against its Asian American talent. However, other disputes would also arise within the Asian community. Some questioned whether these arguably stereotypical Asian roles were worth playing in the first place. Some mixed-race Asians bought Mackintosh's “Eurasian” argument and claimed that other Asian Americans were insensitive to hapa issues. But perhaps Miss Saigon’s most enduring legacy are the steady assaults against affirmative action that have followed in its wake.