Interview: 'It Feels Like a Reckoning': Mei Mac of UNTITLED F*CK M*SS S**GON PLAY on Southeast Asian Representation and Reclamation

Kimber Lee’s time-jumping play untitled f*ck m*ss s**gon play examines and explodes lifetimes of repeating Asian stereotypes. Winner of the inaugural Bruntwood Prize for Playwriting 2019, International Award, this powerful world premiere is now open at the Young Vic Theatre.

BroadwayWorld spoke with Mei Mac, who stars as Kim in the play. We discussed what it is like to portray Kim’s journey through a hundred years of cycles, how Mac separates the traumatics subjects of the play from her own experience, and Mac’s own mentorship scheme, Rising Waves.

---

So what made you want to be a part of untitled f*ck m*ss s**gon play?

I'll tell you what, when we first read the script, it felt like someone had poured fuel onto the fire that already exists in my belly. It feels like I've waited my entire career, maybe my whole life for something like this, for a story like this. I wouldn't even describe it as a story. Because on the surface, the play is called untitled f*** m*ss s**gon play and that's absolutely true, we are saying, “Fuck Miss Saigon,” but actually, what we're saying is much broader than that. It's “Fuck every narrative in the western world and the diaspora that thinks it's okay to view and treat Asian women, Asian people in this light.” And it feels incredibly rebellious, but it's still full of joy. It's something that is so political, quite challenging and a bit traumatising. And it is so empowering! And that's the thing that drew me most to it, is how empowering this play felt. And when I read it I was like, “Oh my God, I've been waiting for this!” I'm so grateful that it landed in my lap.

What is it like portraying the cycles throughout the play?

It's nuanced. By the fourth cycle, I think as an audience member, you just forgive Kim for giving up, because it's quite traumatising! It's really painful what she's having to live through. And I think anyone who is marginalised has that lived experience - we know what that feels like. So there is an element of the cycles that are quite painful to portray, especially because they are also my lived experience, in some ways. I mean, not exactly. Obviously, it's fiction, but the ways in which East Asian women are treated and the way that I've been treated throughout my life . . . I think that anyone who's marginalised, it would resonate with.

But the really brilliant thing about Kimber’s writing, and the way that Roy has directed, is that it is hilarious. This company are so funny. Honestly, I spend every day just laughing! And that's the beauty of this play - Kimber and Roy are brilliant at using humour as a tool to navigate these really painful experiences and in that reclamation, it feels incredibly empowering. We get to laugh with Kim. Rather than experiencing how frustrating the situation is, we get to see it through her lens, using humour as a tool to reclaim that pain, reclaim that narrative. And we’re poking fun at these tropes. looking at them and saying, “Oh, isn't this ridiculous? Isn't this absolutely obscene” And so it feels incredibly empowering and healing.

How do you emotionally handle portraying these traumatic situations?

As actors, it is part of our craft to learn to be robust, that there is a difference between Mei Mac, the actor, and Kim, the character I'm portraying. Although I really relate to her in lots of ways, there is a separation between us. I feel very lucky to be so supported by the communities that I belong to. Through their love and support, I feel very emboldened. Throughout my entire career, the through line between all of my work has been community work and activism. And so in some ways, I feel quite equipped to have these experiences and to speak about these experiences, because I've been speaking about them my whole life. I feel like I've developed quite a thick skin around them. And that's not to say that they're any less painful. But I have an understanding of how to heal through them because I've had to do that before.

Can you go into a little more detail about the character you portray, Kim?

The really delicious thing about this play is that when we meet Kim, in the first few cycles, the first few years of the 100 years that we meet her in, she is playing a script. Just as we all do in life! We go along with what we're expected to do, and there's a part of us that feels a duty and an obligation to what is expected of us. It's only later that she has sort of awakenings. And in those awakenings, she reclaims her power, she makes decisions for herself that aren't ones that people have made for her. And I experience her as reclaiming her agency and autonomy, which is incredibly powerful. You watch this young woman have an awakening and grow up before your eyes. She goes from this innocent place, taking everything as it comes to her as word and gospel. And then you see her questioning things, you see her doubting things, and then you see her take the bull by its horns and change the direction of the bull. It is fierce, and it is a huge arc to go through for Kim. And hugely satisfying for me as an actor to stretch the craft in that way and turn these dials on the truth of her story as well as the the genres that we're playing and the comedy of it.

Can you tell us a bit about Rising Waves, the mentorship scheme that you founded?

Yes! So Rising Waves . . . I’m really proud of it! It’s a mentorship scheme founded in the pandemic, a direct response to the pandemic. If artists weren't freelance for three years or more, they weren't eligible for the government's SEISS [Self-Employment Income Support Scheme], which is very frustrating, for a community like the Southeast Asian community, if you don't come from inherited wealth, which a lot of the community don't, how are you meant to sustain yourself through the pandemic if you don't have government support? We were terrified that we were going to experience a brain drain of talented artists, simply because they come from immigrant or working-class backgrounds or didn't have opportunities for them because of the way we are marginalised in society. So that was in a direct response to that. And it was through the practical act of skill sharing, pairing emerging artists with established artists.

The data that we got from the pandemic was very, very clear. And it was all new data that early career artists are the most diverse across every sector from race, to sexuality, to gender, to disability, to neurodiversity, all of the above. And when that demographic gets into their mid-career, the diversity drops off a cliff for all the reasons I just described. So we wanted to help out early career artists get securely into their mid-career through skill sharing. And actually what we learned from the experiences and what we hoped would happen, which did happen, which I'm really proud about, is that the byproduct of that was a change and a shift in culture. 

It's very easy for marginalised communities to have the mentality of scarcity, that there are no jobs and there is no work and it's very scary. And so what it leads you to do is create this competition culture, where this other person who looks like me is my competition. And so we are in competition with each other. And what we wanted to do is to shift that narrative into a culture of abundance where there is lots of work for everyone. The way we'll make that work is through supporting each other and championing each other rather than viewing each other as the competition. I really believe that we have made that shift in culture, and I'm really proud of it. We're hoping to bring Rising Waves back again for another mentorship scheme! But the reason I keep talking about Rising Waves is because it's a shift that I want to see throughout the whole industry as well. We all need to be supporting each other and championing each other especially now, in a cost of living crisis, and the arts are really under threat and lacking in support. The byproduct of what we did is something that I hope continues to spread and grow.

What do you hope audiences take away from untitled f*ck m*ss s**gon play?

I can’t tell you the impact that it felt at the end of the show, to see so many Asian faces in the audience, just streaming with tears. And feeling seen - I think that’s the feedback that I've been receiving so far, is that Asian audience members feel seen. And what I feel about the play is something that I hope to share with the audience. I think that they are getting it, that there is something about it that feels like a reckoning, that the fire and power of Southeast Asian women and our community is fiery, spicy and powerful. There is pain and there is healing to be found. Those are things I want our audiences to experience - and not just our Asian audiences! Our audiences are incredibly diverse.

There’s a really powerful scene between myself and Rochelle Rose, the actor who plays Narrator and Brenda, and for this black woman and this East Asian woman to be stood on stage and sharing this experience, the atmosphere is really palpable. It is some of the most powerful work that I have ever done and shared. And so, with our audiences being so diverse, I really hope that they can experience the depth of that too. But otherwise, to have a really damn good time. It is so enjoyable. The play is so fun and silly! So despite the fact that we cover all these heavy and important themes, it's really silly. We just have a very ridiculous, silly time on stage and the audience are laughing with us. And for our audience members for whom this may not be their lived experience, I hope that they grow their empathy with it, and they grow their awareness of things, and feel allied with people who do have this lived experience.

---

untitled f*ck m*ss s**gon play is at the Young Vic Theatre until 4 November, co-produced by Royal Exchange Theatre, Factory International for Manchester International Festival, Young Vic Theatre and Headlong.

Main Photo Credit: Ian Lim