REFLECTIONS ON A (FORMERLY) MONOCULTURAL MEDIA
For Anthony Brandon Wong, growing up Chinese-Australian and gay meant very rarely seeing himself represented on stage, screen or in other media. With more than three decades of experience as an actor and drama teacher, he looks at how far we’ve come in acknowledging diversity, while recognising that there’s still more work to be done.
For me, ‘diversity’ isn’t just a trendy, politically correct buzzword. Diverse, authentic representation in television, film, theatre, music and media can literally save lives. If you are a 14-year-old black, brown, Asian, Middle Eastern, LGBTQ+, European or white youth, a teenager with a disability or anyone who is considered ‘different’ living in a community where you are bullied for being who you are, you may feel you are worthless and alone, and this could lead to depression and even suicide.
A TV show, film or comic book with characters you can relate to, and who instil pride in your identity, might be the very thing that stops you from harming yourself. In my research for this article, I read so many touching stories from people of different ethnicities, sexualities and gender identities who said seeing themselves reflected positively in media got them through their darkest times.
Growing up as a gay Chinese-Australian, I scoured the TV guide for any shows that might feature a gay or Asian character. (Forget about looking for a show with a character who was both gay and Asian; they were pretty much non-existent.)
Week after week, year after year, white, heterosexual and cisgender people played the leads. This white hetero-dominance was replicated throughout Western culture − at the movies, on the covers of magazines, in theatre, parliament and professional sport. You had to look long and hard to find non-white or LGBTQ+ people in popular culture.
People like me always played the bit part or, at best, the support act for a white heterosexual character. When this narrative is repeated over decades, it can deeply implant the idea that white and straight is normal, beautiful, powerful, desirable, heroic, multi-faceted, while being black, Asian or LGBTQ+ isn’t as valid, worthy, attractive, empowered or complex.
It took years for me to take pride in being Asian and gay; there was so much negative programming in my psyche to undo. In my 20s, I covered my bedroom walls from ceiling to floor with photos of Asian and LGBT actors, singers, athletes and other role models, so that every day I woke to see positive reflections of people who looked and loved like me. At least in my own room, I could create the representation and visibility I craved and that the wider culture generally didn’t provide. It really helped transform negative feelings that I had internalised.
Recent studies show Australians spend 60 hours 34 minutes a month watching broadcast TV and close to 40 per cent of our waking hours using the internet. That is a huge proportion of our lives that we are having our subconscious programmed with ideas and images about different ethnicities, sexualities and genders, about who is desirable or undesirable, and who is worthy to take centre stage.
For much of my early life, on the rare occasions there were gay male characters on screen, they were almost always white and portrayed as effeminate, closeted, self-hating, emasculated. They were often murdered, died from AIDS or killed themselves. The Asian male characters (almost always straight) were lampooned by white actors wearing false buckteeth (think Mickey Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffany’s), set up as the sexless laughing stock (Long Duk Dong in Sixteen Candles), were the geeky scientist or doctor or the one-dimensional villain.
Even today, gay magazines almost always favour a hunky white or European guy on the cover rather than an Asian or black man. Watching sexy Brandon Lee in the mid-90s and seeing Crazy Rich Asians in 2018 were landmark moments for me: I finally got to see Asian men portrayed as romantic leads − sexually potent, heroic, fallible, multi-dimensional, human.
In 2021, it delights me to see that there are so many TV shows − and the streaming services have really facilitated this − with a diverse cast, telling diverse stories. TV series like The Family Law, Hungry Ghosts, Please Like Me, Sex Education, Sense8, Redfern Now, Transparent, Tales of the City, Orange is the New Black and Pose are part of an inspiring global cultural change. In recent years, I was cast in Three Sisters and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof at STC. When I started out in the industry, I could never have imagined being in a Chekhov or Tennessee Williams play. If I could have seen this diversity when I was growing up, it really would have helped bolster a sense that people like me belonged and mattered.
We still have a lot of work to do, of course, but when I reflect on how far things have advanced since my teenage years, when I looked in vain for role models, I feel grateful for the enormous progress that has been made. Having diverse casts and storytelling teaches the world that each of us is a beautiful, valuable, important, multi-faceted part of the human family, and that we all deserve to be loved, heard, and portrayed with dignity and respect. I am grateful to every person in our industry who is contributing to a culture where no one has to feel invisible, marginalised or disrespected any more.
Anthony Brandon Wong is an award-winning actor and acting teacher who, for 36 years, has played a wide variety of roles in film, TV and theatre around the world. He is best known for his role as Ghost in The Matrix Reloaded and The Matrix Revolutions, and as Danny Law in the SBS series The Family Law. His other screen credits include The Invisible Man, Maximum Choppage, Glee, NCIS, Flight of the Phoenix, Harrow, Newton’s Law and Hawaii Five-O. Anthony will be seen in the forthcoming ABC series The PM’s Daughter as Australian Deputy Prime Minister Tim Yeung.
