Sensitive issues underlie ‘Saigon’ extravaganza
By Sunny Le and Nhan Nguyen
As reflected in the Jan. 27 Arts & Entertainment article
"Love in time of strife," the musical production of "Miss Saigon"
has fulfilled the expectations of theater-goers hoping to be
enthralled by lavish sets and stellar performances.
Unfortunately, "Miss Saigon" also reveals disturbing elements
easily buried beneath the show’s spectacle. "Miss Saigon" merely
represents one in a long line of pop culture vehicles which project
and promote racial stereotypes and ethnic fetishes of Asian
Americans, African Americans, Native Americans and Latinos.
This "classic love story of our time" about an American GI and
his Asian prostitute is an adaptation of an equally demeaning 1904
opera, "Madame Butterfly." In both stories, the main lovers
initially part ways, with the soldier going home. Upon returning,
to search for his lost lover, he brings along his Caucasian wife.
Stricken with grief and heartache, the former prostitute kills
herself in order to spare her "savior" from further guilt.
With exeption to "Miss Saigon," the former prostitute, who is
also the mother of the soldier’s Amerasian child, commits suicide
to enable her son to be brought up and raised by the American
couple.
Representations of the Asian woman as the submissive and
self-effacing sex vixen and the Asian man as the "sleazy,"
"devilish" and sexually depraved "Engineer" (pimp) only show how
such racist images are publicly accepted and even commercially
lucrative  nearly 100 years later.
Asian sexual stereotypes grew out of the exoticism and
"Orientalism" promoted by American workers and politicians in the
early 20th-century to restrict Asian immigration. American
companies utilize these same stereotypes today to justify
patronizing sex tourism industries throughout many Asian
countries.
The business of sex is evidenced from the beginning moments of
"Miss Saigon." After observing the opening scene, which takes place
at a Saigon after-hours bar, the writer of the A&E story
declares, "it’s clear this musical will prove to be, without a
doubt, a masterpiece of the highest degree." That comment mainly
refers to technical stage effects.
But to what extent should entertainment prevail where "innocent"
women must perform for the sexual pleasure of others?
All this leads us to ask: when will we see accurate portrayals
of Asians and Asian Americans? When will America recognize Asian
Americans as more than sex vixens, swindlers, kung fu masters,
asexual nerds and comic relief? Asian American artists and writers
tell their stories everyday. When will we include their voices into
our national consciousness?
Lastly, as the 20th anniversary of the Fall of Saigon approaches
on April 30, the decision to cast and perform "Miss Saigon" seems
even more inappropriate considering the anguish which will
resurface for many Vietnamese Americans and American veterans
alike. Glamorizing a still vivid and troubling time helps no
one.
If you decide to see "Miss Saigon," don’t get too caught up in
the fantasy. Serious questions of racism, sexism and political
arrogance underlie this exploitative, extravagant facade.
Le and Nguyen are members of the Southeast Asian Legal Outreach
Project and Concerned Asian Pacific Students for Action.