“The difference between who I am and who I am perceived to be is often wildly disparate and almost always in conflict with each other,” writes Nelson Lee.
As an Asian actor, I was typecast for decades as a gangster or a nerd. But Hollywood is finally catching up
In “Civil War,” Nelson Lee is asked “What kind of American are you?” The insinuation in that question, he writes, is familiar from his 23 years in Hollywood.
It was winter in Markham, Ont., and I was in an Office Depot, printing out a surprise gift for my father when I got the call from my agents that Alex Garland wanted to meet to discuss my upcoming role in “Civil War.” I had previously met with Alex in Los Angeles and had already been cast, but on this call, I learned that my role as a Hong Kong journalist was going to be expanded. This wasn’t due to anything I had done — just good, dumb luck. I’ll take it.
On my first day of shooting in Atlanta in the spring of 2022, the set was absolute carnage, with bloodied bodies scattered across the streets, explosions shaking the monitors we were watching on from a safe distance, and smoke machines working overtime to engulf the entire scene in a blanket of haze. It was immediately clear what the tone of the film was going to be. It felt like standing in a scene from “Apocalypse Now,” but in the streets of Atlanta rather than the jungles of Vietnam, and in a fictional unnamed conflict in America instead of the Vietnam War. While the film is neither a prescient commentary nor an indictment in any way upon America, it’s becoming more and more difficult within our increasingly polarized world to imagine that any nation, including America, would be immune to war. Division and alienation respects no boundaries, and they hold no passports. It’s a human thing.
My identity has always been questioned. I was born in Taiwan, grew up in Eastern Canada and I’m now an American citizen — I’ve lived between New York and Los Angeles for 25 years. Who I am and who I am perceived to be are often wildly disparate and almost always in conflict with each other. You learn to correct and adjust as you get older to align more accurately with who you truly are, but in the end, it’s difficult to escape the inevitable reductive question lurking within every opening conversation: “Where are you from?”
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As an Asian actor working in the United States, I’ve answered this question many times. Often the responses to my answer were expected, other times colourful, and some just outrightly offensive. But identity is never a binary construct; it transcends a modern discourse of “us vs. them,” and it is far too complex, beautiful and nuanced to be overly simplified. Who we are and how we are seen is something that will never cease to be questioned, but we do have some agency in affecting how those answers will be received.
The recent shift in the acting industry towards more balanced representation — not only among Asian talent but across the board — has been a welcome development over the past few years and inspires confidence in change. When I first began my career in New York in 2001, there was nothing for me but Asian gangster roles, because that was the only way people who looked like me were seen in the industry. It was either an inscrutably bookish nerd or a criminal. Nothing else in between. Early clips from my reel prove as much. My first roles out of acting school pretty much all fall under the category of “criminal,” from taking on the part of a trigger-happy killer in HBO’s “Oz” (2002) to playing the head of the Chinese mafia in the Emmy-nominated miniseries “Traffic” (2004). I was grateful then for those parts and I still am now; I’m proud of my work in those roles. But 23 years later, I am cautiously optimistic about the future and excited by the possibilities I see for a greater range of available roles.
Today, I see more Asians in successful films and television franchises than ever before, not only as ancillary characters used to fill a plot turn, but fully developed humans who only happen to be Asian. Maybe it always would have made sense for me to play Senator Xiono in “Ahsoka” — it is the imaginary Stars Wars universe, after all. Or maybe, it’s that the world on-screen is looking a little more universal these day. Of course, I am not naïve or even optimistic enough to believe that typecasting will ever cease to be a factor. But to inform and expand upon what those “types” are, what they could be, and what they should be … that is the hope.
The code name for “Civil War” during filming was, aptly, “Road Trip.” That pseudonym was apropos as the film chronicles our world-weary journalists’ odyssey across an unfamiliar landscape in a war-torn America, careening further into chaos, from city to city, state to state, before thundering climactically into the nation’s capital. Being a small part of that caravan will forever be an experience I will cherish. But, there is a moment in that experience that helps to crystalize everything we’ve been exploring here. Spoilers aside, it’s a moment in the film that resonates like shattered glass. It’s a question not asked but demanded.
“What kind of American are you?”
The answer is not important. How we receive that message is.
It’s a human thing.
Correction - April 29, 2024
The second photo caption was edited from a previous version. The photo of the scene from ‘Civil War’ shows Kristin Dunst on the left and Nelson Lee on the far right. They were misidentified in the previous version.
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