‘Interior Chinatown’ pushes AA+PI roles to the front and center

Yu’s work sheds light on decades of Asian representation constrained by limited portrayals, such as the “Dragon Lady”—a domineering, often villainous Asian woman exemplified by characters like Princess Ling Moy, a version of Fu Manchu's daughter in Daughter of the Dragon, played by Anna May Wong. Another common trope is the “Kung Fu Guy,” which, while inspirational for many in the community, became one of the few roles available to Asian men in Hollywood.

Hollywood’s tendency to replicate what has proven successful meant that portraying a martial arts master became one of the few ways Asian actors could find work. For contemporary creators like Yu, the goal is to go beyond these familiar roles, showcasing a spectrum of three-dimensional Asian characters who are defined by more than their ability to fight or fit traditional molds. Interior Chinatown exemplifies this effort, providing nuanced stories and varied portrayals that capture the complexities of Asian identity. The series brings this powerful narrative to life with a talented AA+PI cast, featuring Ronny Chieng, Chloe Bennet, and Diana Lin, in addition to Yang.

Yu’s narrative resonates deeply with the AA+PI community, capturing many immigrant parents’ doctrine to “lay low” in the face of systemic pressures and to assimilate in the Chinatowns across the country—which represent safety and entrapment, and are a symbol of a community’s struggle to be seen beyond stereotypes.

Recently, JoySauce spoke with Yu about adapting his visionary novel for television and bringing this deeply personal story to the screen.

This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

Xintian Wang: Interior Chinatown presents a complex meta-narrative about Asian representation. How did you approach the challenge of translating this intricate story into a TV series?
Charles Yu: With an open mind and an assumption that it wouldn't be easy. Despite the screenplay format of the novel, what works in a book does not automatically translate to the screen. In a novel, you get an amazing collaborator—the reader's imagination. In our minds, we can hold things that aren't literal or reducible to an image, like the idea that Chinatown where Willis lives is both a physical and a psychological place. But how do you show that on TV? We had to figure out what that looks like in a different medium. What is holding Willis back? Why does he feel trapped? Those are the big questions of this season. Without spoiling it, what I'd say is we used the conventions of TV itself to make a mystery show of a different kind.

XW: The book, and now the TV series, engages with stereotypes like the 'Kung Fu Guy.' How did you navigate both acknowledging these tropes while simultaneously challenging them to ensure characters like Willis Wu are portrayed with depth and individuality?
CY: People are more than one thing. That's how I navigated—by using that idea as my compass. Willis is many things to many different people: waiter, son, guy from Chinatown. A guy who misses his brother. He's a combination of what he is, of how he sees himself, and of how people see him. He has flaws. He's full of contradictions—Willis has impostor syndrome but also an inner confidence. When we first meet Willis, he's stuck, trapped by circumstances but more so by his own internalization of stereotypes. Over the course of the season, we watch Willis go on a quest, searching for his brother and for his own place in the world. Characters that start as tropes evolve, revealing layers and reshaping the narrative in surprising ways

XW: With the rise in anti-Asian sentiment during and after the pandemic, did you feel compelled to introduce new themes or layers in the adaptation that weren’t in the original novel?
CY: The anti-Asian sentiment since the pandemic has served as a reminder of the importance of stories portraying characters as dimensional, ordinary people with dreams, regrets, worries, families, and jobs—not just victims or heroes. The word "representation" can sometimes feel hollow. Why does it matter? Representation is not just for people to see themselves on screen, but for everyone to see one another’s humanity. Another focus was on Chinatowns, which face issues beyond anti-Asian sentiment—gentrification, and changing demographics. Our show isn’t a documentary, but we tried to weave these larger ideas into the world we created.

"The word 'representation' can sometimes feel hollow. Why does it matter? Representation is not just for people to see themselves on screen, but for everyone to see one another’s humanity."

XW: What are some moments where you integrate your personal experiences into Willis Wu’s family dynamics, particularly his relationship with his mother, which was such a poignant part of the book?
CY: The way that Willis talks to his mom—their quiet moments over dinner, asking about each other's day. The unspoken feelings with his mom and dad. That's something both the book and the show are deeply interested in—who we are in our most unguarded moments.