Interior Chinatown looks great, features plenty of talent, and is rich with metatext as it explores the cliches of police procedurals and depictions of Asian Americans in media. And yet, it never quite comes together as a satisfyingly cohesive whole in the five episodes provided to critics.
The overall plot, taken from showrunner Charles Yu’s novel of the same name, initially presents as reasonably straightforward. Willis Wu (Jimmy O. Yang) grew up in his brother’s (Chris Pang) shadow and was largely happy to do so. However, his brother’s disappearance rocked the family and left Willis rudderless. Now, Willis works at his uncle’s restaurant with his friend Fatty (Ronny Chieng), and his ambitions only reach as high as being a witness to a crime.
When he seemingly achieves just that—seeing the abduction of a woman on the sidewalk outside the restaurant—it drops him into an increasingly surreal world populated by TV-perfect cops Turner (Sullivan Jones) and Green (Lisa Gilroy). He quickly leapfrogs from witness to a variety of cliched parts for Asian actors that double as episode titles, including “Tech Guy” and “Chinatown Expert,” teaming with Detective Lana Lee (Chloe Bennet). Like Willis, she’s an outsider hoping for hero status. Unlike him, she’s in the game and far better at faking it til you make it.
What works without question are the performances. Previously a predominantly comedic performer, Yang brings Willis to life, authentically emphasizing the character’s listlessness and hunger for something more. This kind of character can read too pathetic at the right and/or graduate too quickly to incredible hero, but Yang avoids either extreme. Ronny Chieng also impresses, staying funny while conveying his frustrations and sense that he’s losing his best friend. While the specifics of what’s going on with Lana remain mostly still hidden in the first five episodes, Bennet maneuvers well between her real personality and the fantasy object Willis sees her as
The supporting players are similarly worth mentioning. The degeneration of Turner and Green’s partnership as one tries to increasingly lean into the gallows humor-dark punning those shows traffic in, and the other begins to question everything about their work nabs several laughs before becoming increasingly poignant. Willis’ parents’ (Tzi Ma and Diana Lin) find unique notes to play in the usual “marriage crippled by tragedy” trope. Lin, in particular, has a gift for body language, showing a newfound excitement one moment and the creeping return of resentment and feelings of invisibility the next. Finally, there’s a host of usual one- or two-line characters—the janitor, the desk clerk, the evidence room monitor—who make the most of a spotlight that gives them fuller, more bittersweet lives than they’d typically get.
There’s also a compelling strain of oddness in the narrative. Time frequently slips away from Willis, sometimes even days at a time. Meta elements abound. The precinct lighting frequently changes to convey different kinds of “shows,” as do resolutions and aspect ratios throughout. Scenes frequently transition by emerging from old television screens or diving into computer monitors, heightening the unreality and blurring just how many degrees away from the action the audience sits while watching it unfold. Commercials for new seltzers interrupt and fold into what initially seemed like “in real life” events. And so on. It’s trippy and compelling.
Unfortunately, Interior Chinatown hasn’t indicated what, if anything, all the stylistic choices and meta flair mean, if anything. The seltzer commercial is neat, but does it tells us anything about the world or the characters? One cop’s increasing sense of existential uselessness is funny and interesting, but is it more than a gag? Yes, the series has shown plenty to intrigue and entertain. The acting is excellent, as well. At this incomplete juncture, it has earned its 85. However, if the style turns out to be empty show without thematic relevance, the series will ultimately be met with a lower grade.
Interior Chinatown is turning reality upside down on Hulu now.