Our not-so-beloved characters, CioCio from “Madama Butterfly,” Kim from “Miss Saigon,” and Kumiko from “Kumiko, the Treasure Hunter,” all have one thing in common. But it’s not what you’re thinking.
Yes, they all commit suicide, but what they really share is the desperation of being trapped in a script already written for them.
In association with Artists at Play and Latino Theatre Co., Preston Choi and Reena Dutt premiered their play, “This Is Not a True Story,” at the Los Angeles Theatre Center on Saturday. Marie-Reine Velez, an Artists at Play producing assistant leader, is also the assistant director of Vision and Voices at USC. The play stars Julia Cho, an actor and production assistant leader of Artists at Play, as CioCio; Zandi De Jesus, a UC San Diego theater graduate and actor, as Kim; and Rosie Narasaki, an actor and playwright, as Kumiko/Takako.
Throughout this story, the three characters, CioCio, Kim, and Kumiko, are reliving their tragic lives and deaths over… and over… and over. These characters interact with each other in a place deemed “The Void,” where they must follow their written stories, otherwise an unidentified male presence screams at them, “This is not your line!” The lives of these young Asian American women have already been crafted for them by a white male who becomes angry whenever they attempt to break free from their scripts.
Hmm… sound familiar? These characters are literally in a cycle of their stereotypical false narratives that don’t make sense. How can CioCio and Kim have children without ever having intercourse or giving birth? And why is CioCio marrying an adult man at 15 years old? And why is Kim, a 17-year old Vietnamese bargirl and prostitute, paid to stay with a man who she falls in love with until he ultimately leaves her… and at the end she also decides to shoot herself.
Comedy accentuates the absurdity of these stories, where baby dolls that represent the characters giving birth come flying onstage from the stage ceiling, and each character dramatically transcends into a trance out of nowhere as they repeat their lines and commit suicide repeatedly.
“I think we need comedy to be able to really examine and process the harm that we’ve had to deal with through these pieces of media. It skewers and pokes holes at these characters that have been revered for so long. It’s like a cathartic experience to laugh through the show and go through this emotional journey by the end,” said actress Julia Cho about the importance of the comedic effect in heavy moments of the play.
Julia Cho, Zandi De Jesus, and Rosie Narasaki deliciously tackle the contrast of their characters in the original opera, musical and film, to these new, more realistic and complex versions of their characters that humanize them a little more. Through this comedic choice to have all the actors ridiculously jump between passionate monologues and intimate dialogue, the play poses the question of why they must blindly follow their scripts.
The third character, Kumiko is from a film called “Kumiko, the Treasure Hunter,” which claims to be a true story but is heavily misinformed. The real woman who the film follows isn’t even named Kumiko. Her name is Takako Konishi, and she died by suicide in Detroit Lakes, Minnesota. The film portrays Takako as a very stereotypical Japanese immigrant in America who is on a quest to find so-called hidden treasure after watching the film, “Fargo,” which results in her ultimate demise as she freezes to death during this search.
Playwright Preston Choi said the inspiration behind the title, “This Is Not a True Story,” came from the film’s false attestation of stating that it was “based on a true story.” Choi expands on the idea of his title choice, saying “this history of Orientalism isn’t true, it’s a story that’s been fed to us. Hopefully through those lies we’ll get to some truth.”
The character of Takako in this play struggles with remembering her real name and her true story. By changing her name to Kumiko, the creators of the original movie are erasing her history and redirecting her narrative instead of relaying the truth. In the play, Takako struggles with renouncing her truth because the world, or the unidentified male speaker in this case, refuses to accept it. Choi’s choice to delve into the battle of finding the truth behind stories that are completely hidden behind Hollywood’s perceptions highlights this constant fight throughout history to remember the truth behind false stories that are told.
“When does nonfiction become fiction and fiction become nonfiction, and when do those blurred lines happen? These [stories] all involve the tragic death of the heroin character to fulfill the emotional arc of the white man. The story [of Kumiko/Takako] uses a fictionalized version of this happening. Filmmakers transform stories for public consumption,” Choi said when asked about his original inspiration behind creating this play.
The movie “Kumiko, the Treasure Hunter” came out in 2014, so Takako is the only character from modern times. Through her conversations with CioCio and Kim, she exposes the absurdities of their stories as they begin to deal with the knowledge that they are stereotypes. As these characters start to understand that it doesn’t make sense for them to drop everything for an American man and kill themselves for honor, their narratives change, and they start to break free from “The Void.” Because someone has told these characters to be a certain way for their entire lives, they don’t recognize how problematic their actions are.
These characters release themselves from their poorly written narratives and overcome their identity crises, while eventually remembering their family names. The importance of this moment in the play is that, similarly to these characters, many young Asian American girls grow up watching themselves portrayed through harmful stereotypes, and eventually realize that those stories aren’t representative of their lives and culture.
“When you see figures that look like you or resemble you, portrayed in the same way over and over, I think it definitely affects how people view you and then consequently how you’re forced to navigate the world,” Cho said of seeing Asian American characters in shows and movies while growing up.
As CioCio and Kim reclaim their power by rebelling against “The Void,” they become real people, and their stories evolve. However, Takako cannot join them, as she is already a real person, and in her real life, she died by suicide. CioCio wants to rewrite Takako’s story in an attempt to reveal her truth. All of these characters begin to create a new narrative for themselves.
These harmful stereotypes and typecasts of Asian American women affect how the world views them through the eyes of white male creators. To inspire change, it is essential to bring awareness to the past of film and theater that is rooted in racism and misogyny.
So, next time there is a promo poster for “Madama Butterfly” or “Miss Saigon,” or you happen to find “Kumiko, the Treasure Hunter” when you are scrolling through your streaming services, remember how detrimental these pieces of media are to Asian American women and how we can continue to correct these falsely written stories.
“I think part of what can help further progress is no longer accepting or enforcing the previous portrayals that are more one dimensional, and learning to embrace and highlight the more multidimensional portrayals that are out there. The writers are writing these stories and these characters, but are we doing what we can to spotlight these new stories? I think that’s partly what we’re trying to do with ‘This Is Not a True Story’,” Cho said about the future representation of Asian American women in film, TV and theater.