By Deanna Dement Myers
“Vietgone” – Written by Qui Nguyen. Michelle Aguillon, Director; Kadahj Bennett, Music Director; Misha Shields, Choreographer; Jessie Baxter, Dramaturg; Jasmine Brooks, Assistant Director; Jessica Scout Malone; Assistant Dramaturg & Intimacy Coach; Izmir Ickbal, Scenic & Projections Designer; Debra Kim Sivigny, Costume Designer; Jennifer Fok, Lighting Designer; Aubrey Dube, Sound Designer; Kelly Smith, Properties Designer; Nate DeMare, Technical Director; Jadira Figueroa, Assistant Stage Manager. Presented by Company One at the BCA Black Box Theater, 539 Tremont St., Boston in partnership with Pao Art Center through May 25.
“I thought everything would be super nice here in America. That’s sorta what they advertise.”
In a play that is definitely not about his parents, playwright Qui Nguyen introduces us to two people who met at Fort Chaffee, a refugee resettlement camp in Arkansas, much like his parents did in 1975. Over the next raucous 90 minutes, the audience joins a wild ride across America in pursuit of love, acceptance, and home.
In the midst of the fall of Saigon, Tong (Christina Mei Chen), a woman who works at the US Embassy, is given the chance to escape to America, and can only bring one other person. So she chooses her cantankerous mother Huong (Kim Klasner) instead of her beloved brother or boring boyfriend. Quang (Quentin Nguyen-duy), a pilot is in the Vietnamese Air Force, who along with his buddy, Nhan (Rob Chen), rescues refugees in this same battle. After this heroic deed, Quang is told that he, too, is now a refugee, the circumstances of war making it impossible for him to return to his wife and two children still in Vietnam.
A meta-theatrical format bookends the play, with The Playwright (played by Jude Torres) introducing the actors and giving the usual pre-show spiel about silencing phones, unwrapping candy, etc. We are informed that the Vietnamese characters will speak with perfect elocution and grammar, while the American characters will speak in hilarious gibberish, a sly reversal of the typical depiction of Asian characters.
Hopping between timelines and stories, Tong and Quang arrive (separately) in America. Tong’s mother finds Arkansas provincial and longs for the comforts left behind in Vietnam; the food upsets her stomach and English is not worth the bother to learn. Tong, who is just as hard-headed and practical as her mother, is nevertheless eager to begin her new life and makes the most of this opportunity. Meanwhile, Quang and Nhan ride a fantastical motorcycle through an American landscape littered with exaggerated Americanisms, encountering the requisite cowboys, hippies and rednecks.
The story is told partially by characters rapping, a style of music that only partially works for this play. In fact, some of the idioms and stylistic choices are confusing; If this is 1975, the slang, mode of dress (the anachronistic Kenneth Cole “Reaction” underwear on Nguyen-duy’s jolted me out of an otherwise riveting sex scene), and some of the cultural references are way off. I found myself trying to understand the subtext behind these choices, which distracted from the action on stage. Some of the numbers go on a little too long, which may have added to my distraction.
The song “Home”, rapped as a duet by Quang and Tong before they ever met, speaks to the hope of acceptance and the dread of being in a country that is “not known for loving peeps with a yellow face.” It is interesting to have this line, given this medium is not known for depicting Asian characters in any proportion to our actual makeup of our population. It sets up the potential conflict between these two, as we realize they do not have the same goals.
Yet, when they meet, the chemistry is undeniable between Quang and Tong. Things heat up once their timelines converge and we are treated to a comedic montage that explores their growing connection. It is refreshing to see Tong take charge of what she wants, and her honesty about Quang’s role in her life is refreshing. Nguyen creates scenes that are sexy in a non-fetish way, with real desire and romance shown instead of the “love you longtime” tropes Western audiences see about Asian sexuality.
Love and guilt are tightly entwined in this play. The theater nerd in me saw the title “Vietgone” and immediately connected it to “Antigone” because of the last four letters. Indeed, there are parallels between the two, specifically around the way Tong is unapologetic about doing what she feels is the right and the proper way to honor her brother.
You can tell that Nguyen is also a screenwriter for Marvel studio because in this show, like his other play, She Kills Monsters, we are treated to epic fight scenes, that put The Matrix to shame. You can almost see Wham! and Pow! over the heads of the characters as the battle rages (a little too long) on. The comic-book characters provide a nice counterpoint to the in-depth poignancy of the rest of the play. There is much about this play that is just plain fun to experience, with the dialogue and emotions being authentic, even when the language is less so.
With crisp acting skills, the myriad of supporting characters are handled well and even when they are bare outlines of stereotypes, they have well-defined identities. A dozen and a half characters are depicted by 5 actors. Kim Klasner is clearly this cast’s Akwafina, with her deadpan delivery and expert comedic timing. The other male supporting actors provide entertainment and perspective, while Tong and Quang get to know each other outside of the bedroom.
Nguyen creates a sincere tribute to his family, where they are central to their own story of the war and the damage it has done to them. We get to visit a time when our country welcomed immigrants, creating opportunities for them to become citizens and pursue the own American Dream. While the play has many satirical and cartoonish elements, it never makes light of the actual, heartbreaking situations Nguyen’s parents experienced. Nor does he trade the yearning for acceptance for a quick joke. It is refreshing to see actual people depicted, with their desires, bad behavior and unpleasant personal traits exposed for all to see. It doesn’t make them any less loveable.
The last scene of the play is a departure from what went before. Nguyen challenges long-held ideas about the war in Vietnam, America’s role in it, and how we perceived the country that was torn apart. Tickets are available at: https://www.bostontheatrescene.com/season/vietgone/
