by Darian Davis, Staff Writer

Interior Chinatown
Created by Charles Yu
Starring Jimmy O. Yang, Ronny Chieng, Chloe Bennet, Lisa Gilroy
Episodes 6-10
All episodes now streaming on Hulu

I was already impressed by Charles Yu’s small screen adaptation of his own novel, and now that I’ve made it through to the end, I desperately hope to see more of the adventures of Willis Wu. Yu concludes the first season of Interior Chinatown with an ultra-meta finale that gives full agency to its characters and puts a punctuation on its themes of inclusion, acceptance, and living a life of your own making.

Episode five ends with Willis (Jimmy O. Yang) being whisked away by Uncle Wong to an undisclosed location. A gun lies in Uncle’s lap, suggesting he may have something to do with the elusive Painted Faces gang creating panic in the neighborhood. Willis is hoping to get answers he’s been seeking through the first half of the season: Where is this notorious gang hiding? Is Willis’s brother really their leader? Did Uncle have something to do with Kung-Fu Guy’s disappearance? Will all of this finally lead Willis to his brother’s whereabouts? Questions abound, and as the answers unfold, it becomes clear that Chinatown itself is quite literally a set piece to a larger plot. 

In episode six, the seams come apart. The fictional show “Black and White” begins to glitch, along with its stars Turner and Green. Willis’s presence is creating a disturbance, and as he continues his investigation into his brother’s disappearance, he inadvertently changes the entire “show.” For the first time Turner and Green are caught outside of the blue hues of the TV program as they review new evidence brought by Willis and Lana (Chloe Bennett) that reopens a cold case. The color grading that signals the character’s jump between what’s “on-script” and “off-script” becomes a strong metaphor for moral ambiguity.

Episode seven takes that idea and runs with it, leaving the strict lines of the police procedural behind and transforming into a different kind of TV show, a prestige drama à la True Detective. Yu’s meticulous attention to law enforcement sub-genres makes the middle episodes gratifying to watch for any detective TV fans, but he also uses the conceit to mirror the doubts and struggles his characters experience. This idea is best represented in Turner, who ultimately decides to leave the force to, quite literally, write his own story and pursue his passions for manga and art. Yu also uses the format to break down Lana Lee’s shocking revelation that she had a personal connection with Willis’s brother. The two spent time together on a boat, dreaming of escaping their lives. It isn’t long until Green and Lee discover that Willis’s brother used it on the night he disappeared to try and escape, ultimately perishing in the attempt. With the investigation ending in Jonny’s death, all parties quickly move on, and by the end of episode seven, Willis Wu literally takes the driver’s seat as he pulls the camera along for the ride.

In the final three episodes of the season, Charles Yu dives deep into the idea of being “seen” vs. being “invisible.”  Willis quickly finds out that climbing the social ladder by society’s standards doesn’t necessarily give him what he wants. Becoming the “star” of a new version of “Black and White” turns him into the Guy that others look up to, in the same way he looked up to his brother. But starring in commercials to promote his so-called personal brand doesn’t bring any sense of fulfillment or accomplishment. Willis’s gains toward the “promise” of the American Dream actually creates distance from his family, and he loses touch with his cultural roots. 

A series of bombings in Chinatown puts Willis back at the center of the mystery and, with the help of Lee, Turner (Sullivan Jones), and Green (Lisa Gilroy), he finally uncovers the hiding place of the Painted Faces. The small, maligned gang reveal that they’re everyday people who have figured out that they’re just background players in a larger TV show. Earlier, Lee and Willis deduce the existence of a mysterious corporation called HBWC that has been telling a bigger narrative all along, and that the entity’s name is a reference to the Grim Reaper of Chinese mythology whose initials can be translated to the “container” that carries souls to the afterlife, also known as Hulu. Through this inception-level revelation, Yu turns the streaming service and the viewers themselves into characters, making for a wildly unique and inventive watch.

The finale ends with Willis declaring his right to be the author of his own fate. Lee tests that theory by launching herself and Willis from the roof of the SRO, heeding Jonny’s video game message beyond the grave to kill themselves in the world they know, escape Hulu’s narrative, and chart their own course. The last few moments reveal Willis typing the script to Interior Chinatown in a modern present-day office, with Lee standing in the door frame. A new title reading Standards and Practices is imposed over the screen, and Willis looks directly at the camera for a split second before the credits roll. The ending offers some hints as to what we can expect from a second season. The font type of the “new show” Lee and Willis find themselves in seems to hint at a single-camera workplace comedy. The fact that Willis looks at the camera may also be a clue that he’ll have more control over what happens to and around him. But will Hulu itself remain the big bad? We can only hope for a second season to provide some answers to the fate of Willis and company.

Yu has built a vehicle in which to explore all the themes and threads of his original novel in great detail. Jimmy O. Yang relishes the opportunity, and his performance establishes himself as a broad talent who, like his character, proves he can play any part to great effect. With a strong and well-devised meta premise, Yu has only begun to break ground on Interior Chinatown as a treatise on our perceived roles in society, and who gets to write the wider story we tell each other.