By Julie Hong
The most high-profile Asian American male actors in Hollywood film these days are likely John Cho and Kal Penn, who broke out with Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle. While that comedy was a big step – two Asian males as leads – the fact that a stoner buddy flick is one of the only examples that come to mind is not too impressive, considering that Asians have been in America for a long time now. Director Jeff Adachi explores the history of Asian American men in film and the slow progress of Asians truly “making it” in the world of cinema. Adachi, who is currently a Public Defender of the city and county of San Francisco, presents us with an exhaustive collection of different commentaries by actors such as Mako, Jason Scott Lee, James Shigeta, and Terence Chang, along with snippets of the films which mark the path that these actors have taken.
The documentary begins with an overview of the development of Asian American male roles in films, which starts off with a face that many contemporary audiences may not be familiar with, Sessue Hayakawa. Hayakawa was a silent film star in the early 1900's and considered the first Asian male lead in American films. During an era where Asian Americans were not socially integrated into American society, it was quite shocking and enlightening to see an Asian American man in such a prominent and unlikely role. He is seen wooing Caucasian women with his charms, something that we rarely even see today, almost a century later. In fact, as many of the commentators pointed out, Asian men are still extremely desexualized in world of film today. Even in the film Romeo Must Die, the romantic relationship between Jet Li and Aaliyah was stripped because of the extremely negative responses from the urban audience. This shows that the lack of images of Asian American males in romantic leads has an effect on peoples' minds. Perhaps Hollywood's lack of representation perpetuates the misconception that Asian males aren't seen as desirable, which fuels complaints from Asian guys about how Asian girls are ditching them for guys of other ethnicities. It's so rare seeing love scenes performed by Asians onscreen that even I have to admit that I get uncomfortable watching them -- but that might also be due to the ultraconservative Korean soaps that I'm used to seeing where raciness goes as far as holding hands.
The Slanted Screen story continues with the rise of the satirical “yellow face” acting (i.e. Breakfast at Tiffany's), the surge of roles for Asian actors in World War II films, and the emergence of Bruce Lee as the role model that Asian guys needed. Lee created an “Asian sensation,” and finally made Asians “proud to be Asian,” according to actor-director Phillip Rhee (Best of the Best film series). However, at the same time, it allowed the world to expect every Asian male to be skilled at kung-fu fighting. This assumption might be more respectable than the math nerds and bad lovers stereotypes, but it is still a stereotype nonetheless. This only further demonstrates the powerful hold that films, along with other forms of media, can have on the minds of impressionable viewers. Comedian Bobby Lee complains that when Sixteen Candles came out during his teen years, every Asian-American guy was nicknamed “Long Duk Dong” after the ridiculous caricature. What people see affects how people think.
Actors like Tzi Ma (Rush Hour, 24) claim that once Asian-Americans are starting to be placed in roles that are meant for Americans and not just simply for Asians, things will start looking brighter. His role in Dante's Peak was not written for an Asian character, which breaks down the walls of stereotypical roles. In the fast-paced, action film Torque, the lead was meant for a Caucasian character, but Will Yun Lee filled the role because of the extra spice he brought to his character. One of the actors commented that things will start changing as more Asian-Americans start becoming producers, actors, and screenwriters because the people behind the scenes are the ones who have the decision-making power. In the television show Lost, one of the main writers is Korean-American Christina Kim, who can make sure that the characters Jin and Sun are portrayed accurately. Maybe, with more Asian Americans making the decisions, we will one day see Hollywood able to the actors of the right ethnicity, or can actually speak the language, in the right roles. Maybe one day it won't be so “difficult” to find a willing Japanese actor to play the role of a Japanese geisha, so that they won't need to cast Chinese actors who can't speak English very well anyway.
Speaking of languages, the documentary is also accompanied with a short by Linda Lee, in which struggling Korean actress Judy Lee speaks about the frustration of trying to get parts as an Asian American woman. I found this segment, though it wasn't part of the documentary, the most amusing part of the whole viewing. She ridicules the film industry's ignorance and inane suggestions as they view Asian culture as “a Mongolian dish” where they pick and choose what amount and what type of “Asian-ness” goes into a movie. In particular, Lee describes an audition where she is requested to speak Chinese, as it is assumed that all Asian languages are alike -- because she knows a scant amount of Korean, she can probably easily speak Chinese as well (with no specification if it was Mandarin or Cantonese of course. Just “the stuff they speak in Hong Kong”). To make fun of the situation, she starts screaming jibberish in Korean, which is translated to “I'm hungry! It's two-o-clock! What are we going to eat?” And of course the studio executives eat it up, telling her that it's absolutely brilliant. Linda's short is raw, honest, and original -- a breath of fresh air compared to the somewhat archaic quality of The Slanted Screen.
The whole subject of misrepresentation and stereotypes of Asian Americans can be an overdone issue, so the documentary was an interesting history lesson at best. The last five minutes of the documentary were cheesy as they cued the sentimental music and had all the interviewees spew out inspirational phrases about proving you're worth it and how we can all do it together. At that point, I felt like I was hearing everything I've already heard before. But then again, one can't criticize them too harshly for ending it on an optimistic note? It was actually pretty sweet to hear the older generation of Asian American actors passing words of wisdom to the younger generation in the strong hope that the silver screen will not remain slanted forever.