Constance Wu and Sonoya Mizuno, two of the stars of Crazy Rich Asians.
Constance Wu and Sonoya Mizuno, two of the stars of Crazy Rich Asians.

Pop CultureAugust 28, 2018

Asian representation in New Zealand in the age of Crazy Rich Asians

Constance Wu and Sonoya Mizuno, two of the stars of Crazy Rich Asians.
Constance Wu and Sonoya Mizuno, two of the stars of Crazy Rich Asians.

Crazy Rich Asians has been lauded for its groundbreaking representation of Asian-Americans – but how is Asian representation looking in our own country?

“Why would you actively try and get into a space where no spaces exist for you?” says Alice Canton, an Auckland-based actress and theatre artist. “If I wasn’t creating my own opportunities, those opportunities would just not exist.”

While ‘yellowface’ has long since disappeared from Hollywood, the erasure of Asian stories from our cinema and televisions screen has been far more enduring. Often cast as bespectacled nerds or the exotic “other”, there has been little respite from the dominant narrative of whiteness as the norm, with Asian faces the rare exception – even when the character is explicitly written as Asian.

A recent example of this was the whitewashing controversy surrounding the movie version of the anime series Ghost in the Shell. Screenwriter Max Landis defended the casting of Scarlett Johansson as Major Kusanagi, arguing that there were no “A-list female Asian celebrities” whose star power could translate into high box office numbers.

This is reflected in UCLA’s 2018 diversity report, which found that minorities made up 13.9% of lead film roles in the 2015-16 season, compared to its peak of 16.7% in 2013.

The report also found that, of the scripted TV shows debuting in 2017-18 across all platforms, only 28% of its leads were minorities, and 24% debuted with a largely minority cast.

That isn’t to say things haven’t improved for Asian representation in recent years, with films and shows such as Killing Eve, Fresh off the Boat, Master of None, Kim’s Convenience, The Big Sick and, most recently, Crazy Rich Asians and Netflix cult hit To All the Boys I Loved Before all gaining both critical and commercial success.

The entire cast of Crazy Rich Asians is of Asian descent, the first time that this has happened in twenty-five years.

Crazy Rich Asians, in particular, is a rare show of force for Asian-American visibility on screen – not only due to its strong US box office (it opens here in New Zealand on Thursday), but also as the first film since The Joy Luck Club in 1993 to feature an Asian-majority cast. The film, about an Asian-American woman meeting her boyfriend’s wealthy Singapore family for the first time, far from perfectly represents the Asian experience (its erasure of South Asian faces has been noted elsewhere), but it does pave a way forward for more nuanced Asian-American representations on screen. It also proves that minority-led films can translate into success at the box office.

The issue of systematic erasure of East Asian faces and stories within the film and television industry hasn’t just rampant in Hollywood but at home, too.

According to New Zealand’s 2013 census, 11.8% of the population identified themselves as Asian. On screen, however, the numbers tell a different story.

Half-Chinese and half-white, Alice Canton often struggled with coming to terms with her cultural identity growing up in the lily-whiteness of the South Island (she was born on the West Coast and grew up in Canterbury).

While her Hakka mother was obsessed with The Beatles and cricket, Canton’s idols growing up were local stars like Shortland Street‘s formidable Dr Grace Kwan, played by Lynette Forday.

“My sisters and I were obsessed with her as kids because she had danced with the Royal Ballet. I grew up idolising her, right through high school to my early 20s, where I was sure I would be cast as her Eurasian bastard daughter.

“She was the only Asian New Zealander on my screen. Her and Jane Yee, who I also used to fangirl over. When I was in sixth form I wrote her an email, which was a big deal because no one emailed back then, telling her I’d written about her in my school speech.”

Opportunities for people of colour have continued to be in short supply, Canton says – the roles reduced to cardboard cut-outs like that of the bumbling sidekick or the ferocious ‘dragon lady’ popularised by the first Asian-American film star, Anna May Wong, in the 1930s.

Lynette Forday and JJ Fong both have had core cast roles on Shortland Street.

JJ Fong, who plays Filipina nurse Ruby Flores on Shortland Street, says growing up with Asian media only helped to heighten her sense of difference from an early age.

“It made me think more deeply [about race] because I was in the thick of it and experiencing it, whether that was at auditions using Asian accents or just growing up as a Chinese-Kiwi among a lot of white kids who made fun of my eyes.

“I wasn’t observing the issue – I was the issue.”

Unlike Canton and Fong, the first time Proudly Asian Theatre co-founder Chye-Ling Huang saw an East Asian face and story reflected on screen was Disney’s animated feature film Mulan (1998).

“[Fa Mulan was] really revolutionary when I first saw her as a kid. I was, like, 10 or something and it just changed my life, which is sad when you think about it. It was a cartoon, but it was pretty much the only thing I saw on screen.”

It was years later, in 2009, when Huang experienced a play featuring real Asian faces and stories: Chinese New Zealand director and playwright Renee Liang’s Lantern. The play, which follows a Chinese family struggling with identity after immigrating to New Zealand, would later become Huang’s first play to be performed under the Proudly Asian Theatre banner.

“It’s definitely gotten better now, but growing up, it was… There was just nothing.”

Canton says the problem lies in the perpetuation of damaging stereotypes on stage and screen – compounded further by an already lacking number of roles to be filled.

“When there is a character or casting for someone who is Asian – it’s always Asian, it’s never specified – sometimes, it’s the most broad-stroke, bullshit characterisations imaginable. There are such limited opportunities that when you are the only person, you have to be all those things.”

Huang says part of the problem lies in Hollywood’s whitewashing of Asian stories – and the white actors who perpetuate it by agreeing to portray them.

“There are enough white actors and enough white stories out there to inspire and motivate white people. We don’t need more white stories – we need more Asian stories, we need more brown stories. Anyone who’s looking to take those opportunities away from us has got to be extremely short-sighted to think that it doesn’t matter.”

However, Canton says the characters on screen are merely a product of what goes on behind the scenes, in the writer’s room.

“You’ve got no one to call out on it when her name is Mei-Ling and she’s a lawyer in her 20s, her parents are strict and she just wants to fit in. No one is there to do that in the writing room, behind the camera, in the crew – let alone the visible, on-screen [characters].”

Nathan Joe, an Auckland-based playwright, says the drive to write nuanced Asian characters and stories is often born out of the recognition of its absence.

“The pin-drop moment usually is when you start asking yourself, ‘Where am I on screen? Nowhere, so do I wait or do I produce something?’ You’re driven by that need and that lack.”

For Canton, the “pin-drop moment” was when she started studying drama at high school. Over the years, the theatre artist has written and starred in shows like White/Other and Orangutan, which explores feelings of difference and belonging through performance art.

As well as performing in her own shows, Alice has collaborated with others who share her desire to change narratives of race, such as the makers of Proudly Asian Theatre’s 2016 show, Call of the Sparrows. The show borrowed heavily from elements of Chinese history, values and superstitions, and featured an all-Asian cast.

Perlina Lau, Ally Xue, and JJ Fong – the stars of Flat 3 and Friday Night Bites.

Perlina Lau starred in the comedy web series Flat3 and its TVNZ spin-off Friday Night Bites. Written and directed by Roseanne Liang, Flat3 (2013-14) came about after Lau and fellow actresses Ally Xue and JJ Fong created a theatre show, before eventually finding their way to the web.

“The whole Asian thing was kind of just a bonus. We didn’t intentionally set out to do that, but at the same time, it gave us a point of difference. From the get-go, we looked different – you didn’t see many all-female casts doing comedy. It didn’t get much more ‘minority’ than that.”

Like Canton, Lau says the women didn’t “see ourselves out there or in any context”.

“We thought, ‘Let’s be a version of ourselves. Let’s appeal to people like us – all the 20-year-old Kiwis that we see, let’s put them on screen with an Asian face.'”

Indeed, part of Flat3‘s appeal is its authentic portrayal of young adults navigating grown-up life, helped by its diverse array of writers behind the scenes.

“Fair enough that you write what you know – but get diverse writers in, because they’ll be writing what they know and that’ll be diversity. It’s a conscious decision because it’s not a level playing field.”

Chye-Ling Huang and James Roque co-founded Proudly Asian Theatre as a way of levelling the playing field without relying on the strained budgets of film and television.

“We didn’t have anywhere else to go,” says Huang. “We had no path to follow; there was no one we could really attach ourselves to that could help us get that leg up in the industry. In the end, we connected with Renee Liang after we did our first show and she really helped us.”

A still from Asian Men Talk About Sex (2017).

Their more recent projects, Asian Men Talk About Sex, was made after receiving funding from Loading Docs, a platform which helps producers launch short documentaries.

The documentary, which features Yoson An who is set to star in the live-action remake of Disney’s Mulan, came about as a means of self-reclamation for Asian men’s sexuality in a way that wasn’t confrontational but “celebratory and empowering” in its conversations about race.

“There’s a lack of representation in New Zealand for Asian men of any kind,” says Huang. “It’s slim pickings out there and we really wanted to make something that was tipping the scales back in Asian men’s favour.”

Her work – from the Chinese opera-inspired Call of the Sparrows to the melodrama of David Henry Hwang’s FOB – addresses the messiness and dissonance of identity politics without being confrontational.

“When people think about dialogue around race, they always think it’s angsty, it’s messy and yuck. Yes, it’s all those things, but it can also be joyful and funny and weird and interesting in other ways.”

They’re still difficult conversations to have, but the dialogue around race has improved in recent years, says JJ Fong, who co-starred with Lau in Flat3.

“It’s definitely gotten a lot better in the last five years with casting, being open to other ethnicities and seeing them in a different light, rather than ‘That’s just an Asian or Māori role.'”

However, despite her early experience with racism and what may be seen as its continuation through stereotypical casting practices, the actress isn’t quick to lay blame on the writers and producers alone.

“We can write articles about it, we can whine about it on Facebook – but the fact of the matter is, if you’re not in there doing it, creating it for yourself, then things won’t change because people won’t see it”.

“It’s about fostering and mentoring talent as well,” adds Huang. “Often people will say, ‘I just don’t know any people of colour, women writers or Asian writers,’ but you have the responsibility as a person in a position of power to turn the tide. It’s not going to happen on its own and the work will be better for it.”

Crazy Rich Asians opens in New Zealand on August 30.

Keep going!
BOB DYLAN, NOT LAST NIGHT BUT in 2015 (Photo: Jeffrey R. Staab/CBS/Getty Images)
BOB DYLAN, NOT LAST NIGHT BUT in 2015 (Photo: Jeffrey R. Staab/CBS/Getty Images)

Pop CultureAugust 27, 2018

Love and theft: Bob Dylan in Auckland, reviewed

BOB DYLAN, NOT LAST NIGHT BUT in 2015 (Photo: Jeffrey R. Staab/CBS/Getty Images)
BOB DYLAN, NOT LAST NIGHT BUT in 2015 (Photo: Jeffrey R. Staab/CBS/Getty Images)

Bob Dylan played Spark Arena in Auckland last night. Ol’ buds Henry Oliver and Harry Cundy were there and emailed back-and-forth about it afterwards.

Henry Oliver: We’ve been to many of the same Dylan shows over the years, sometimes together. This one was like many of them but also like no Dylan show I’ve seen before. What did you think?

Harry Cundy: Yes I remember we travelled to Hamilton to see him last time he was here (with the same stage lights). And actually the first time we ever spoke it was about Dylan I think. Right before you were about to play a show at the library in Grey Lynn…

But the show – I loved it! I have loved every Dylan show I’ve seen though (apart from the one time I saw him play outside at a festival). But the show tonight felt different. I think its come at a time when – to be honest – I have/had almost completely stopped listening to Dylan. There were years of my life when I listened to nothing else, or at least been positive that I would never not be listening. But I just haven’t been. I have listened to his new covers albums (Triplicate, Fallen Angels, Shadows in the Night) only a little. And I have found it hard to listen to old Dylan that I used to love. It feels overdetermined now somehow.

Which is why I loved this show so much. It was so exciting, so invigorating to see him revise, rewrite his songs both new and old. We heard new arrangements of course, but I remember hearing half a dozen new verses in various songs at least. None of this should be such a surprise of course. He has done this every time I’ve seen him I’m sure. And this is also a guy who has been undermining his own profile, history, oeuvre, persona, etc. since at least Self-Portrait in 1970 (on and off I realise – he wasn’t big on self-reflexivity in his ‘Christian phase’ for example). But this time I was really feeling it, because I had had this feeling of overdetermination.

How did you enjoy it? And have you been listening to Dylan recently?

BOB DYLAN, NOT SUNDAY NIGHT BUT IN THE LATE-60S (PHOTO: SUPPLIED)

Henry: My current relationship to Dylan has been much the same – I’ve listened to each of the last three albums twice each maybe, but before that, really enjoyed Tempest. I hadn’t even really thought much about him at all recently until this weekend and, for much of his set, I thought a lot about why.

Here’s the best I could do: despite the subjects of many of his most well-known songs being war and injustice (he always seemed to play ‘Masters of War’ during the Bush II years), his music just doesn’t feel that ‘relevant’ anymore. Whatever his politics actually are (which hasn’t been super explicit since the Civil Rights movement) he just feels closer to what’s wrong in the world than whatever the antidote might be. Which isn’t necessarily ‘fair’ – writing off the world of white men of a certain age – but it’s not just him. I haven’t been reaching for my Neil Young records either. The feelings and opinions of successful baby boomers are culturally and politically ubiquitous. Why would I need any more?

As for last night, I loved it too. I couldn’t make out enough of the words to spot every new verse other than when I was expecting something and it wasn’t there or I heard words that I knew I hadn’t heard before. But what struck me was his energy. I can’t remember him sitting/standing/sitting so much, with his piano so high in the mix, always playing the least-competent/most-interesting notes. And when he stood and sung just with the mic stand, with a little almost-jazz-hands flourish, you knew he was feeling good. If you were allowed to use your phone that would have been the moment everyone pulled them out to Instagram, tagging in their kids.

BOB DYLAN, NOT SUNDAY NIGHT BUT IN 1966 (PHOTO: D.A. Pennebaker)

Harry: Well, defending boomers is an uncomfortable place for me to be. But I feel like I have to with Dylan.

I agree re his politics. In that the last time I can think of that he was capital P “Political” was on Infidels (‘Neighbourhood Bully’, ‘Union Sundown’) both of which seem lame and one-dimensional (and in one of those cases quite objectionable). ‘Workingman’s Blues No 2’ on Modern Times is glorious but too much pastiche to be taken at face value. And while ‘Masters of War’ was, of course, topical, but that has always been least favourite of his ‘topical’ songs.

Politics aside, I still appreciate his insistence on rearranging his own music as an artistic gesture. I have been thinking about this particularly in relation to his other insistence that no-one record any of the performance. Security wasn’t sweeping flashlights like at Prince at Aotea Centre. But it was strict. But for the lyrics (and only then to the extent he hadn’t re-written them) his rearrangements were almost unrecognisable from the canonical versions on his records. I am thinking about this idea of an artist if not quite negating, at least significantly undermining, his official recorded history, but refusing to replace it with any other record. And these rearrangements of songs, with new verses, that only exist in their performance. This is the majority of the history of folk music (at least before the Harry Smith / the Carter Family, etc.) though I guess. But it’s fascinating to be present. Plus, on a more petty level, I really appreciate the subversion of nostalgia which seems to be such an organising principle of boomer (and even Gen X) cultural production/consumption. Dylan is not out here touring classic albums from start to finish.

I guess there is a post-modern aspect of Dylan that I still really appreciate. I remember when Love and Theft came out in 2001 it was at this point my friends were starting at Elam, and I was beginning to learn what post-modernism was. Even just the title of that album was a good introduction to the subject. As for his movements. I was picking up what he was putting down too. But not because it was an old person behaving young. It was the theatricality of it, and his outfits (a theatricality which has often been present, even from his days where his persona heavily ‘quoted’ Woody Guthrie).

Writing this down I realise that there is a maybe a tension between being anti-boomer nostalgia while appreciating his extensive quotations. But I can live with it.

Also, I also really enjoyed his piano being so high in the mix. I can’t remember another concert ever hearing his instrument being so clear (other than his harmonica).

BOB DYLAN, NOT SUNDAY NIGHT BUT IN THE EARLY-60S (PHOTO: SUPPLIED)

Henry: Yes! It’s his rearrangements that make it most worth seeing him time and time again. Plus, I love seeing people not that familiar with where he’s at having to deal with what they’ve been subject to. The first time I saw him was in Manchester and the reaction of some of the boomers around me wasn’t a million miles away from those young men and women (okay, mostly men) at the Manchester Free Trade Hall in 1966 who, famously, booed and called him Judas for playing an electric guitar with a band.

And yes, at the risk of sounding like one of those kids-these-days think pieces about how no one truly *lives* anymore, it was nice to experience something ‘in the moment’ that wasn’t being recorded, even if only to exist on some Instagram stories or forgotten on someone’s iCloud.

I guess love and theft is what it’s always been about. I love those stories in No Direction Home of him stealing records and songs, stealing looks and ideas, stealing melodies and phrases. Now it’s stealing from Junichi Saga or Henry Timrod, Time magazine or an online cheat sheet for Moby-Dick.

I love this quote, in response to plagiarism allegations, from a 2012 Rolling Stone interview that somehow captures his approach to pastiche and quotation, and to his approach to performing his own work:

I’m working within my art form. It’s that simple. I work within the rules and limitations of it. There are authoritarian figures that can explain that kind of art form better to you than I can. It’s called songwriting. It has to do with melody and rhythm, and then after that, anything goes. You make everything yours. We all do it.

Bob Dylan plays Horncastle Arena in Christchurch on Tuesday 28 August