Mr. Miyagi remembered

In today’s New York Times, Lawrence Downes scrutinizes the legacy of Pat Morita, the Japanese American actor best known for playing…

In today’s New York Times, Lawrence Downes scrutinizes the legacy of Pat Morita, the Japanese American actor best known for playing the role of sensei to a barely pubescent Ralph Macchio in Karate Kid:

The movie and TV industry has never had many roles for Asian-American men, and it seemed for a while that they all went to Mr. Morita. He made his debut as “Oriental No. 2” in “Thoroughly Modern Millie” in 1967 and never stopped working. He hit two peaks — as Arnold the diner owner on TV’s “Happy Days” and the wise old Mr. Miyagi in the “Karate Kid” movies — and spent the rest of nearly 40 years roaming an endless forest of bit parts.

He was Mahi Mahi, the pidgin-talking cabby in “Honeymoon in Vegas,” Lamont Sanford’s friend Ah Chew in “Sanford and Son,” Brian the waiter in “Spy Hard,” Chin Li the Chinese herbalist in “The Karate Dog.”

Whenever a script called for a little Asian guy to drive a taxi, serve drinks or utter wise aphorisms in amusingly broken English, you could count on Mr. Morita to be there.

Those who knew Mr. Morita say he was a man of uncommon decency and good humor. He fulfilled the actor’s prime directive, to keep busy.

But it’s distressing to think that the life’s work of one of the best-known, hardest-working Asian-American actors is mostly a loose collection of servile supporting roles.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. Born to migrant farmworkers in California and confined to an internment camp in Arizona during World War II, Morita decided to become a stand-up comic and actor at a time when Hollywood was “interested only in the stock Asian,” Downes writes. Little changed during Morita’s lifetime:

Harold Sakata played Oddjob in “Goldfinger” and was typecast as a mute brute forever after. Philip Ahn played houseboys and villains for decade upon decade.

Some actors — well, a couple — broke out, like George Takei, Mr. Sulu in “Star Trek” [who recently broke another taboo by publicly acknowledging he was gay], and Jack Soo on “Barney Miller.” B.D. Wong’s role on “Law & Order: Special Victims Unit” is a major improvement, but it will be a long, long time before we erase the memory of the bucktoothed, jabbering Mickey Rooney in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” or Sidney Toler as Charlie Chan.

Watch Rob Schneider play Ula, a leering Hawaiian in the Adam Sandler movie “50 First Dates,” with a pidgin accent by way of Cheech and Chong, and you get the sense that Hollywood still believes that there is no ethnic caricature a white actor can’t improve upon.

Actually, Rob Schneider is hapa, or half-Asian — his mother is Filipina. I’m not sure if that extra sliver of “authenticity” makes his racial buffoonery any better — or just more depressing.

But lately there have been some promising developments on the Asian American cinema front, thanks in part to the growing visibility of new Asian American directors like Justin Lin (Better Luck Tomorrow) and Eric Byler (Charlotte Sometimes). Last night I saw Saving Face, by first-time director Alice Wu, a film that is at once a lesbian love story, an intergenerational Asian American tale of culture clash, and a comedy of manners — all the while playing with genres and conventions to create something uniquely heartfelt, universal, and funny. I recommend you see it, if anything just to gape at Joan Chen’s brilliance as a comedic actor (or just to gape at her, I guess).

As for Morita, we may yet see a different side of the late actor in Only the Brave. This film — now in search of a distributor — tells from an Asian American viewpoint the story of the 442nd Regimental Combat Team, a Japanese American unit whose families were held in the government’s internment camps but who nevertheless fought valiantly for their country in World War II. Judged by its size and length of service, the so-called “Purple Heart Battalion” is the most decorated unit in U.S. military history. Morita plays a Buddhist priest imprisoned in Hawaii after the Pearl Harbor attacks.

Of course, Morita will probably always be remembered, with genuine fondness, as Mr. Miyagi, that ever-upbeat font of fortune cookie wisdom and helpful car-waxing tips. But hopefully younger generations will place Morita in the context of his times and also appreciate the pioneer he was — and the actor he could not be.

Victor Tan Chen

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen