THEATRE REVIEW: The First Prime-Time Asian Sitcom
4.11.2022 Q Theatre, Auckland
Photo Credit: Michael Smith
Nahyeon Lee’s The First Prime-Time Asian Sitcom investigates the paradox of representation, diversity and creative work with sharp wit and terrifying truth.
On stage is a perfect sitcom set up, generic and familiar. You just know some 20-somethings with a range of emotional problems live here. But, if you move a little further away from the sitcom set up, there is a monitoring system with The Showrunner sitting there, watching on just as the audience is. The opening starts with the sitcom itself: Friends-like storylines, canned laughter and painfully constructed conversations. Except this time, we have Asian leads and culturally-specific difficulties replacing the ‘Rachel and Ross’ relationship problems.
This first section lulled me into a false sense of security, mimicking the Asian and BIPOC media I’d already seen. I immediately had this thought of - “Yea, it is cool to see Asianness in a sitcom setting”. The jokes were centred on giving me something familiar to laugh about, but I still felt weird about it. How much was my laughter an exploitation of my own self? I had never really talked about that weird feeling I get in these situations, because I know I should simply be grateful that there is this nugget of Asian representation in the first place. The booming voice announcing that this was “THE FIRST PRIME-TIME ASIAN SITCOM” only confirmed that I should just sit back and be grateful.
“The jokes were centred on giving me something familiar to laugh about, but I still felt weird about it. How much was my laughter an exploitation of my own self?”
And then the sitcom ended. I thought that was it and almost got up to leave. I thought the whole show was just an exploration of diversity in traditionally white television series. Then it got a whole lot more complex. We step back from the sitcom and the actors come onstage to have a panel talk about the show. Diversity buzzwords are thrown around, pseudo-academic research about representation is discussed. I love panel moments because they give a metatextual deconstruction not only of the show itself, but also of the way you have reacted to the show up until this point. Here you realize that we aren’t just watching the sitcom, we are watching the creation of the sitcom: What goes on in the drawing room and behind the scenes.
Photo Credit: Michael Smith
During the panel talk, I suddenly became aware that I was swallowing how I really felt in the sitcom section because I didn’t want to be unappreciative of the representation that was there. If I was unappreciative, would these sorts of shows go away? The First Prime-Time Asian Sitcom investigates these feelings with an intensity. Throughout the panel, there is aggression between each of the members, even though they are fighting for the same goal. Lee uses anger and arguments deftly, showing how minorities are pitched against each other whilst also being asked to fulfil a huge task of representing an entire experience, culture and community.
When I was younger, I used to watch ‘Uncle Roger’ videos. If you don’t know, ‘Uncle Roger’ is a comedic persona created by Nigel Ng, a Malaysian YouTuber and comedian. ‘Uncle Roger’ presents as a middle aged Asian man who would say and do things that reminded me exactly of my dad. There was something special about laughing within a community - ‘Uncle Roger’ was like having an inside joke with my Asianness. I would send videos of ’Uncle Roger’ to my friends, to my brother, even show them to my dad and say “this is you”. We would laugh privately, knowing that we were laughing in solidarity. It felt like something was made for us.
And then my White friend came over and put on an ’Uncle Roger’ video. We started out laughing together, but half way through I looked at him and thought: “What are you even laughing at?”. I had the same experience in Everything Everywhere All at Once. I went with my parents. We laughed at every private joke and insider reference to the Asian immigrant experience. And then I noticed the Gweilo girls next to me laughing every time someone spoke with an accent on screen. Again, I thought: “What are you even laughing at?”. The First Prime-Time Asian Sitcom digs into this feeling, forcing the audience to confront it face on.
There is also this David Lynchian Rabbits feeling to the show: Beneath the laughter and sitcom jingles, there is horror. Real terrifying horror. The direction and audio/lighting design is fantastic in conveying this. These sudden flashes of light and industrial sound mimic the horror of creating a work that is hinged on ‘representation’. What does that even mean? Representation. How much of representation is exploitation when it is being watched by White people and when it is being commissioned by White people? When Jehangir Homavazir’s character said: “Ethnicity first, human second”, I felt it so much I almost cried. There’s this confusion in trying to show your experiences, but wanting to be just be seen as human. Why can’t BIPOC characters just exist, why do they always have to mean something or be part of a diversity plot? The stark contrast between sitcom jingles, and split second industrial horror sounds perfectly convey the impossible contradiction of creating work that is meant to represent, to be diverse, to solve racial problems, to interest both white and BIPOC people.
“The stark contrast between Sitcom jingles, and split second industrial horror sounds perfectly convey the impossible contradiction of creating work that is meant to represent, to be diverse, to solve racial problems, to interest both white and BIPOC people.”
The actors are skilled in switching between sitcom stereotypes to real world people, confused at their identities and why they are a part of this TV series. Each actor approached the performance with nuance, nailing the comedic timing and physical theatre as well as the complexity of each character’s relationship with race and culture. The energy of the actors also matched the intensity of Lee’s writing. Working almost as an ensemble, it felt like each actor escalated the energy in every scene, building on it until we reached the final chaos.
Photo Credit: Michael Smith
The last section is built on rage and it was so liberating to see. I am someone who gets angry. Really angry. This intense anger that suddenly emerges out of nowhere. This wall-punching, plate-smashing, terrifying anger that my existence is always coded within something - within gender, within race - when can I exist as beyond these things? Through The Showrunner’s character, Lee shows the intense pressure of trying to ‘make it’ in a world that exploits your identity. And it culminates in The Showrunner’s intense outburst on stage. Finally, I saw an Asian female character get angry. Really angry. I am sick of meekness, I am sick of complacency, and this was the perfect end to The Showrunner’s story - anger. But what really got me, were the final moments of the show: All the actors out of breath, frantically dancing to Make ‘em Laugh. It so sharply explored the way representation becomes a farce and the way you become a puppet of yourself. God, it was terrifying and it was fantastic.
Something new is happening. Something angry and something scary. I saw it in Scenes from a Yellow Peril, I saw it in The Writer. Instead of forcing ourselves into the template of traditionally White, male spaces and creative works, we are saying: “No we don’t want that”. These are works that are frantic, and messy and exist outside of conventional media structures. The ending to The First Prime-Time Asian Sitcom reminded me of the ‘Decolonise the Body. We are all Meatsacks’ section in Scenes from a Yellow Peril. These shows embody the constant noise, stress and pressure of existing in a body and identity that feels predetermined by those around you. I am loving this wave of experimental performance work that tries to make sense of and change problematic engrained ideas. By using theatre techniques, these works are changing the way we see the world around us.
The First Prime-Time Asian Sitcom made me feel 心痛 - heart pain. I ached for the things I changed about my work so it would be more palatable, I ached for the parts of my Asianness I cut off as a teenager and then stitched back on when it seemed to get me opportunities. Through fantastic direction, audio techniques and writing, The First Prime-Time Asian Sitcom confronted these feelings I have had for years, but didn’t know could be expressed. An acerbic and terrifying watch: Highly recommend.
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Book your tickets for The First Prime-Time Asian Sitcom here!
Director: Ahi Karunaharan
Playwright & Assistant Director: Nahyeon Lee
Design: Jennifer Lal, John Verryt, Minsoh Choi, Natasha Ovely & Paige Pomana
Cast: Ariadne Baltazar, Dawn Cheong, Uhyoung Choi, Jehangir Homavazir & Jess Hong
Presented by: Silo Theatre