It was inevitable that Charles Yu’s hot novel Interior Chinatown can be adjusted for the screen. The book, released to rave reviews and a string of awards in early 2020, takes the form of the screen, using recurring tropes to change how Asian stories are told in Hollywood. Yu himself created the 10-episode series for Hulu and served as its executive producer, with Taika Waititi leading the pilot. The on-screen version retains the brilliant storytelling of the novel while enhancing its delivery with true cinematic quality.
Jimmy O. Yang stars as Willis Wu, a Chinatown waiter who is referred to as the “Generic Asian Man.” He remains stuck in his established role, always being a background player in the fictional police procedural called Black and White: Impossible Cases Unit and never a star. As he complains to his best friend and helpless co-worker Fatty Choi (Ronny Chieng), the likes of him never reach the hero of the story. Instead, he waits for tables to take out the trash and occasionally messes with his friend, hoping that something else will happen to him. Suddenly, it happens. He is a witness to a crime, even though the police won’t listen or even acknowledge his existence. Willis wishes he could be more like his brother, who died, and has trained in kung fu in hopes of playing a prominent role again.
Yu uses cliches and stereotypes to point out the obvious flaws in the way these types of stories are told. Local detectives, Miles Turner (Sullivan Jones) and Sarah Green (Lisa Gilroy), treat Chinatown as a strange place full of mysterious crimes. They enlist the help of another Chinatown detective and expert, Lana Lee (Chloe Bennet), who describes herself as a frequent sidekick, to get to the bottom of it. But their investigation is jargon and practical police behavior, which Willis sees right away. There’s a great running gag in the second episode where Willis, try as he might, can’t get into the police station until he leaves with a Chinese delivery man. It is only in that role that the police will admit your existence.
There’s a meta angle to everything, providing a direct commentary on the way Asian actors have been represented on screen, especially in ’90s films and TV series. Yu and the director use lighting cues and sets to show how Willis is dealing with different moments of the story. The show subverts many expected tropes, while also making sure the audience sees the spread. It can be hard to watch Interior Chinatown without considering the bulk, many pieces of media do little, though Yu is careful to do so in a fun rather than didactic way.
It helps that Yang is an actor who should be a movie star, but somehow isn’t. Despite playing the romantic lead on Netflix Love Hard and showing off his comedic skills at The rich of AsiaYang is the leading man—which directly proves Yu’s point. Chieng is great and Bennet looks to the expectations of an Asian character, who happily explains that before he was a detective he was a barman and a second mate on a ship. Tzi Ma reprises her role as Willis’ father and Diana Lin plays her mother with palpable empathy. He, too, has been pushed to the edge of his story and is just looking for a chance to lead. And isn’t that what all characters deserve? One TV series won’t change Hollywood, but Yu and his collaborators certainly make some important points here that studio executives can take away. Who are they talking about? Who gets relegated? And why? By asking these questions in his novel, Yu opened up the space for us to see characters like Willis, the guy you really want to get rid of, on the screen.
‘Interior Chinatown’ is streaming now on Hulu.
