SPOILER ALERT: This interview contains major spoilers from “Interior Chinatown,” now streaming on Hulu.
Chloe Bennet knows what it is like to straddle two worlds — both in life and on television. For seven seasons, the Chinese American actor starred as Daisy Johnson/Quake in ABC’s “Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.,” a long-running, procedural-esque show that followed the lives of special agents in a world of superheroes. Having spent the majority of her 20s working on “S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Bennet learned to define parts of her own life through playing a character — so much so that she feels like she was essentially raised in the procedural genre.
So, when she first read Charles Yu’s National Book Award-winning novel “Interior Chinatown” — which follows the life of a Chinese American actor who has always felt like a background player in his own life until his being witness to a crime in Chinatown reveals that he is actually a bit player in a much larger story — Bennet, whose father is Chinese and whose mother is white, began to recognize parts of her own experience in Hollywood.
“Charlie is such a brilliant writer — and this is how he is in real life as well — but he is so able to capture these very specific and nuanced feelings about racial identity, even for me being a woman on a TV show,” Bennet tells Variety of “Interior Chinatown,” which explores tropes and archetypes that often relegate Asian characters to the background. “There’s so many ways that he was able to express these nuanced emotions and feelings that I’ve had in my whole life, and it felt like he was able to just string them all together in this book. I just felt really seen by that, like, ‘Oh my God, this guy is reading my half-baked thoughts and then putting them into this book, in a script format, in a procedural TV show format.’ It felt like there was nothing I didn’t understand or didn’t feel connected to.”
But after Yu’s novel introduced Karen, the half-Asian detective who was renamed Lana in Hulu’s new adaptation, Bennet had to stop reading. Knowing that “Interior Chinatown” would inevitably be adapted for the screen, she says she could not bear the thought of anyone else playing the part.
“I reached out to anyone I knew that was attached to the project, or who I knew that knew someone attached to the project,” Bennet says, describing her “insane” reaction to learning that Yu would be adapting his own novel. “I played it like I was dating. I was like, OK, I’m going to be cool, but not too cool. I’m going to try, but not try too hard.’ And then eventually I did get it, which was a big relief because I think I would’ve probably quit acting otherwise.”
In the new 10-part series, Bennet plays Lana Lee, a newly transferred detective who is brought into the police department for “cultural considerations,” as another detective snidely puts it, amid a growing spike in crime in Chinatown — despite the fact that she knows very little about the community. As it turns out, Lana is the only character in “Interior Chinatown” who seems to realize that she is playing a new detective on a satirical “Law & Order” show called “Black & White.” Acting as a bridge between those two worlds, Lana, who is herself relegated to a stereotypical role as a side character in “Black & White,” agrees to team up with Willis Wu (Jimmy O’Yang) — the Chinese American man who doesn’t realize that he is the protagonist of his own show-set-within-a-show — to uncover the truth about why his older brother, Jonathan (Chris Pang), mysteriously disappeared after being given a starring role as the stereotypical Kung Fu Guy. (Bennet admits she is still attempting to process the meta nature of the storytelling.)
In a wide-ranging interview, Bennet opens up about her character’s arc in “Interior Chinatown,” how she has dealt with inevitable scrutiny over her racial identity in real life — and why, following her experience on the show, she’s more determined than ever to tell her own stories.
How would you describe Lana’s arc in this 10-episode first season? What does she learn about herself?
We’re introduced to her through this postured male gaze. Immediately, she’s put on this pedestal. It’s a dissection of what race she is. It’s a dissection of, “Oh, who is that?”here’s something very relatable for me as a female actress that is utilized in that way often. I think that she at that point is proud of her ability to be anything she wants. She has a privilege of being able to slip in and out of these worlds, and I don’t know if that is the privilege I think it is. I don’t know if that’s something that I’d want. There’s an exhaustion that she realizes, because for Willis, he’s introducing her to this part of herself, to this [Chinese] community that she’s actually never been a part of.
Episode 5 is an important episode for her in discovering and getting to see this world, and getting to see the benefits of being in one place at one time and not having all these secrets. Throughout this show, we start to see that she’s realizing, “Oh, I can be a part of all of these worlds, but I’m actually not a part of it.” She’s not accepted in either world. The metaphor is rich, in that a lot of it is about being mixed. We’ve barely scratched the surface on Lana as a standalone character, and her journey with her identity on what she actually wants and what really motivates her. Because I think that changes throughout the show. But I think Lana, as a piece of the puzzle of telling Willis’ story, is a different conversation.
There’s a lot to unpack in the finale alone. After realizing that he and the rest of the people in Chinatown exist as characters in a meta police procedural controlled by a powerful corporation, which has been invasively broadcasting all of their lives, Willis attempts to take control of his own narrative. The season ends with Willis and Lana jumping off a rooftop together, which symbolizes their attempts to break free, but they seemingly wake up in another show playing the same characters but in different circumstances. What was your interpretation of the ending?
I’m interested to hear other people’s fresh takes on it, because we’ve been sitting with this for two years, and I’m not quite sure if I can be completely objective about what I think happens in the ending. But I think that they discovered that they are pieces of a much larger puzzle. I think at the beginning of the show, no characters are entirely aware of that. I think Lana might be the most aware of it and it’s still deeply embedded. I don’t want to say anything on the record that’s going to be totally wrong, because I have my own personal theories, and I don’t know if they’re right.
Give me one of your theories then.
There’s various pathways I could go to dissect it. I think that there was a lot going on while we were finishing the end of the show. We were navigating strikes, and there was a lot of stuff that was happening. I only recently saw what we did because there was a lot more that we shot, and I think what was carved out was strategic. So I can’t speak for the creators of the show, but my takeaway was I can only apply it to my experience as an actor.
To me, it’s like Lana and Willis almost got off this show where they were being pigeonholed, but they’re now on another one. There’s a very simple that might be easier for the sake of the interview. And then, there’s a lot of other, way bigger things that we talked about at length on set, and it gets very heady. Was Jimmy looking at the camera at the end? We did various takes. So I actually have not talked with Charlie or [executive producer/director] Taika [Waititi] about this, and you are asking good questions. I don’t want to publicly say fully what I think, because I think that there might be some surprises. I also think it depends whether we go another season. If that’s the end of it, I think I’ll have an opinion about what the whole thing was and what it all means. But if there’s more, I don’t want to give anything away.
You’ve always spoken openly about how when you’ve walked into casting rooms, people don’t always know where to place you. You’ve been told that you’re not white enough to play the lead, but you’re also not Asian enough to play some of the more stereotypical and supporting roles. Now that you have established more of a public profile in the business, do you find that you’re still having to deal with those kinds of conversations about your racial identity?
I think that it’s something that we actually have so much more work to do, and it’s not just around me. The industry took a big pendulum swing in the other direction. Now, I would say I’m not Asian enough. Even within the last few years, I’ve not gotten things because I don’t look “Asian enough,” [but] I’ve been told that they want to see the diversity onscreen. This press tour in and of itself has been really eye-opening. I feel like [there’s] an elementary understanding of racial diversity and what real progress is. I believe that real progress is not having to speak about it all the time. Even in the promotion of the show, a lot of it is reduced down to just an Asian American story. That’s certainly what this is, but also it is a lot of other things. So I think we have a lot of work to do.
Do you feel like you’ve reached a point where writers and producers are able to lean into and write toward your ethnicity as opposed to running away from it?
They’re running away from something else. I’m not quite sure what exactly it is. Race is still very much at play. I think it’s definitely not OK to be like, “You can’t be the lead if you’re not white,” anymore, by any means. There are definitely limitations, but they are presenting themselves in a different way at this point.
Your decision to change your professional last name from “Wang” to “Bennet” came with a lot of strife and backlash, particularly from the Asian community. Now that you are over a decade removed from that decision, how do you reflect on that choice now?
I have really always struggled with that decision. I was 18, 19, and needed to pay my rent. It really did feel like Willis in Episode 2 or 3 when he is trying to walk into [the police station and keeps getting locked out]. I was, in a really naive way, shocked by the way that I was not able to [get work]. I actually wasn’t being given any opportunity. Simply being able to delete Wang and type Bennet was a very cinematic moment for me. I can still see the way the light hit my computer screen — all of it is still very ingrained in my memory. But I’m very aware of the front-facing privilege to be able to do that because then I did get work.
I understand that for a lot of people, they don’t get to just delete their last name and then become white-passing. But I think that the most damning thing of that experience is that you think that it’s a privilege to be white-passing. And obviously, there are logistical privileges to being white-passing in the society that we live in at this point. But you take the outside elements of that away, and what does that do to you psychologically? And I paid a lot of psychological repercussions about who I was the whole time, and really have struggled with that.
Both sides of the coin have opinions about it, especially the Asian community, and there’s no negating people’s feelings about that. But the reality is, I never changed my last name. I’m not Chloe Bennet. My name is Chloe Wang. I changed the way people perceive me, but nothing about me has ever changed. There’s a point when you’re like, “Oh, they let me in. I’m in the club.” You’re in the club, and then people don’t think you’re one thing. So I guess when you’re white-passing, people don’t know that you’re Asian, and you’re along for a lot of fucking racist comments. And when you defend it, it’s like, “Well, you’re not really [Asian].” So a lot of that has happened, and it’s a really complicated mixed bag, but it’s something that I still struggle with.
Have you ever considered changing your professional surname back to Wang?
I don’t know. It’s hard because I am still Chloe Wang all the time. When I go to a dinner or when I give my name for something, I’m not saying Chloe Bennet; I’m saying Chloe Wang. I made an effort to never shy away from talking about it or opening myself up to these conversations. It’s definitely something that is not black and white. I understand that there was a privilege involved in that, but it’s not as glamorous on this side of it as I think people think it might be. But I understand that it gave me a lot of opportunities.
You mentioned that you don’t want “Interior Chinatown” to be reduced to an “Asian show,” but it’s important not to downplay the significance of having so many Asian Americans working on the same project. For you, how different was the experience of making “Interior” compared to your other shows? Has making a show like this put you more in touch with the Asian side of your identity?
It was incredible. I don’t think you realize the absence of something until you see the presence of it and you’re walking on set. I always thought of my Asian part of me as this kind of domestic part of me, in a weird way, and I always thought of my white part as the professional part because that’s how I was forced to view myself for a long time. I didn’t realize the level of comfort, the deep breath I took — and I welled up — when I first walked on the set, and I really saw diversity off-camera. Across the production, there were department heads that were Asian women, and the show meant something to everyone. And not only were people hired just because they were Asian — they’re the best at what they do, and they’re really fucking good.
It was actually very inspiring for me, as a creative, and as someone who had been toying with wanting to branch out of acting for a really long time and honestly just never felt the confidence to do so. Seeing so many people like me behind the camera was extremely motivating. I was like, “Oh, this is what straight white men get. They have always gotten to see themselves the whole time creating the thing.” So that power of representation for me worked immediately off-camera, and it was extremely motivating. I don’t think that we should just hire people for the sake of hiring people; I think that we need to be really good.
You mentioned wanting to branch out beyond acting — presumably into writing, producing and directing. Have you thought much about the kinds of stories that you want to tell? You have a particularly unique experience as someone who is “hapa,” or half-Asian.
I have been writing, and I actually have always written, which is something that I was very, very shy and not confident about. So much of it has to do with those weird conversations about identity, and where you do or do not fit in. I was raised in a very specific house. I had seven brothers. My dad is Chinese — a lot of people that I know are mixed don’t have that experience. I have two Black brothers, a Mexican Filipino brother, three half-Chinese brothers and a half-Indian brother. I have an Indian stepdad.
Growing up and having a seat at the table, literally, at dinner, I had a safe space [to discuss] these big topics — race, sexuality, gender and politics — and was able to speak about that very openly with people who are different, who do not have the same skin color as me. I grew up in this bubble of equality within my family, and I watched the world take in my family members differently based on the way they look. That gave me an immense amount of perspective.
The reason I got into acting was because I really think the power of having an intimate proximity to those conversations where you’re not going to get canceled, where you can speak about stuff and leave room for nuance — that is the only kind of content I’m interested in. It’s also not a sad story. It doesn’t need to be this, “Woe is us. We are Asian.” I really want to celebrate the complexities. I grew up in this microcosm of America, and it certainly wasn’t chill, but man, was it fulfilling.
When I was 17, I actually got signed to CAA by talking about my family, and it was ultimately about developing a show about the stories that I was telling about growing up. So this experience on “Interior” has catapulted the creative juices inside of me — and that’s a huge inspiration from Taika and Charlie. Charlie’s been extremely supportive; he’s been a mentor for me, as a creative behind the camera. So the big takeaway from the show has been really inspiring for me: No one’s going to tell my story, and certainly not a bunch of white executives, so I’ve just got to do it.
This interview has been edited and condensed.