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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.