Millennial Notes

Henry David Hwang Skewers Himself in Real-Life Revelation

by Kristian Stovall

“Yellow Face” begins like a puzzle missing its pieces. A swirl of characters and shifting roles blur the stage—actors flip personas in real time. It’s disorienting at first, but soon, a rhythm emerges. Confusion becomes the point because messy life keeps changing.

Playwright David Henry Hwang places himself at the center—literally. Played by Ben Chau-Chiu, “DHH” is both narrator and fallible participant. Hwang was caught up in a casting controversy over a white Englishman playing a Eurasian role in “Miss Saigon.” Why hire an Englishman to play an Asian role?

At first, there’s no mask. Hwang’s responses are honest and unfiltered: “Yellowface” casting is wrong. DHH takes his stand against casting white actors as Asians. But when the push back comes from Actor’s Equity and others, he begins to hedge. That’s when the mask appears—not as a lie, but as a survival tool.

In one early moment of hesitation, Asian leader Carla Chang (stalwart Chloe Wong) pushes back: “Look bad? This is our Rosa Parks moment!” She speaks with clarity and urgency.  It’s not satire—it’s reverence. Her reference to Rosa Parks honors Black resistance as a blueprint for seeing others. Carla re-frames their protest as pride. She reminds the playwright that calling out erasure is not just brave, it’s necessary.

Chau-Chiu brings quiet sincerity to DHH, strongest in awkward silences where pressure and guilt set in. Some punchlines miss; but by Act Two, his emotional unraveling hits home.

Following the true story of what happened, DHH’s father HYH (endearing Joseph Alavardo), a successful Southern California banker, gets caught up in a wave of anti-Asian attacks. The Congress investigates  his bank’s dealings with China. As the wrongly accused father, Alvarado plays a touching and  sympathetic role.

DHH, himself, becomes the object of hostile stories by a slippery journalist (astounding Alan Coyne) looking for a story. Coyne brings out the reporter’s racist bias slowly and subtly in a gripping scene.

William Brosnahan plays the white guy in “yellowface,” called “Marcus Gee,” with charm and complexity. He walks the line between white and Asian convincingly enough to pass. Brosnahan’s fake Asian actor conquers and annoys DHH, the playwright who created him.

But the deeper conflict is DHH’s. In trying to seem fair and avoid being seen as difficult or un-American, he lets his own “yellowface” casting slide. The quiet danger for marginalized people lies in failing to take a strong stand! Should we retreat into acceptance and lose the basic rights we must defend? No, we have to stand up for our own and other people’s rights, or all are doomed.

Nicole Odell shines in a series of fast-talking supporting roles, including Lily Tomlin. Her timing is razor-sharp, elevating every scene. Chloe Wong plays Leah Anne Cho with grounded passion—a fierce advocate who allows farce to take over her values. Her misplaced belief in Marcus becomes breathtakingly believable.

Clint Sumalpong’s set looks like a curated gallery. A raised, see-through box lit with neon white anchors the space, part phone booth, part display case. Lighting designers Spense Matubang and Justin Kelley-Cahill isolate and expose characters, turning scenes into exhibits. Nolan Miranda’s costumes lock us in the 1990s—with media-ready polish, protest gear, and bold silhouettes.

Director Daniel J. Eslick stages scenes across time and space, then lets the lines blur. The result is subtle but haunting: someone is always watching.

“Yellow Face” questions race, identity, and performance gently but firmly. Shotgun Players’ staging lights up those questions with humor, precision, and grace. What goes unsaid says the most.

 

“Yellow Face” by David Henry Hwang, directed by Daniel J. Eslick, scenic design by Clint Sumalpong, costumes by Nolan Miranda, sound by Michael Kelly, lighting by Spense Matubang, props by Micaela Kieko Sinclair, at Shotgun Players, Berkeley, California. Info: shotgunplayers.org – to June 14, 2025.

Cast: Joseph Alvarado, William Brosnahan, Ben Chau-Chiu, Alan Coyne, Nicole Odell, and Chloe Wong.

Banner photo: Ben Chau-Chiu (DHH). Photos: Robby Sweeny