Sex in Vancouver: the End, or the Beginning?

Since its inception in 2000, Vancouver Asian Canadian Theatre has provided space for Asian actors to explore material that resists stereotypical acting roles too-often assigned to ethnic actors. Such roles (think Long Duk Wong from Sixteen
Candles, Fez of That Seventies Show) narrow the representational possibility of people of colour, allowing them to function only as comic relief or other inconsequential roles that play off of predominantly-white protagonists.

The lack of dominant non-white characters on film and on stage mirrors popular notions that people of colour do not, cannot, and should not hold the same power in society as their white counterparts. Social power is often linked to physical attractiveness, and, by extension, sexual attractiveness. Much of the humour of Long Duk Wong and Fez’s characters relies on their decidedly un-sexy onscreen roles: this is but one example of the typecasting of ethnic actors that restricts exploration of other dimensions of their characters, and thus cuts them off from holding the same social clout as more dynamic, sexy counterparts whose ethnicity is lost in favor of blanket conceptions of whiteness.

A prevalent stereotype associated with Asian people includes the idea that Asian men and women are sexually passive, uninterested in sex, and therefore sexually unattractive. This stereotype resonates particularly strongly for Asian men, and their limited mobility in inter-racial relationships , especially in comparison to women, has been the subject of much debate. Sex in Vancouver vocalizes the seldom-discussed reality of sexy, bold, and experimental Asian Canadians whose onstage representation gives credence to their status as major players in the sex life of Vancouver.

Andrea Yu delivers the strongest performance in Doin’ it Again, taking fierce ownership of the humor, wit, and anger of her role as Tess “I’m married to a gay man, but I need to have sex!” Matsudaira. Some mechanical inconsistencies of the play weaken the delivery of the series' overall message, however: the complicated soap-opera structure renders it difficult to follow the story, and limited character development outside the context of their relationships makes it hard to foster emotional attachment to either one of them. Additionally, the unconventional quirkiness characterizing many of the relationships in Doin’ it Again is betrayed by its tendencies to defer to the overarching power of marriage and fate.

It’s an ambitious project, and touches on a host of issues that deserve further discussion in more theatrical productions of this kind, which we’ll be glad to see from VACT in years to come. The question of transcendence, however, remains contentious: at which point will plays like Sex in Vancouver fill theatre seats with an audience more diverse than the predominantly-Asian crowd at the Waterfront Theatre on opening night? While Doin’ it Again marks the end of Sex in Vancouver, the series is only the start of a complex discussion of race, power, and sexuality that shouldn’t remove itself from the stage with Doin' it Again’s final curtain drop next Sunday night.

Sex in Vancouver: Doin’ it Again runs until March 5th at the Waterfront Theatre at Granville Island. Tickets are $12-$28, and can be purchased online or at the door.