‘Carry the Tiger’ Tells of Chinese Immigrant Family’s Tragedy

It’s a family photograph like a lot of photos circa 1970: smiling parents, smiling son with shaggy hair, middle-class suburban living room surroundings.

We’re shown this image at the end of the East West Players production of “Carry the Tiger to the Mountain,” and it reveals a lot. Behind the smiles of this Cantonese immigrant family lies the idea of a new life in a new country, with all the promise and strain and hope that invariably comes along for the ride.

The photo is more telling than anything in Cherylene Lee’s disappointingly flat dramatization of the murder of Vincent Chin.

In 1982, 27-year-old draftsman Chin visited a Detroit topless bar with his friends, nine days before Chin was to marry his fiancee. At the club he was confronted by two auto workers, Ronald Ebens and Michael Nitz.

“It’s because of you we’re out of work,” the alcohol-stoked Ebens bellowed (though he was actually working full time). The men assumed Chin was Japanese; they assumed also that affordable Japanese imports were responsible for hobbling the Detroit auto industry. And they took it personally.

Later that night the auto workers beat Chin to death with a baseball bat. A Wayne County judge gave them three years’ probation and fined them $3,780 apiece. “I don’t see how this could happen in America,” said Chin’s mother, Lily.

Keeping some names the same while changing others, “Carry the Tiger to the Mountain” follows the “car-crazy” Vincent (Reggie Lee), living with his adoptive parents, Lily (Beulah Quo) and ailing David (Benjamin Lum). After a strikingly stylized depiction of Vincent’s killing--fine Tai Chi choreography by Peter Kwong--the focus shifts to Lily, an initially reluctant but increasingly influential activist in the wake of the murder.

Taking its title from a Tai Chi movement, the play is peppered with sounds and images of the Motor City, notably the smarmy spiels of a car salesman (Robert Greenberg). Later, from a dreamlike perch above the stage, the ghost of Vincent practices Tai Chi movements, so revered by Lily.

Even with the stylistic layering the play goes the way you think it’ll go, dutifully. Vincent remains a symbol of what can happen in America when you run afoul of racist louts. The character of Lily settles for putting a face and voice to anti-Asian discrimination. (We know this because another character argues that Lily would “put a face and voice to anti-Asian discrimination.”)

Director Tim Dang allows the scenes to breathe and flow as easily as possible. E. Junior Usaraga’s canny unit set frames the stage with a sculptural creation made up of car parts--tailpipes and hubcaps, hanging from metal bars. David Cheung’s live drum accompaniment pushes the narrative along.

East West has produced works by Lee twice before, “Wong Bow Rides Again” in 1987 and “Arthur and Leila” in 1994. “Carry the Tiger to the Mountain” showcases some seasoned actors, notably Lee’s likable Vincent, Matt K. Miller’s conflicted defense attorney and Quo’s anguished Lily. Quo’s finest moment is entirely nonverbal: a brief, contained crying spell, a reaction to all that has befallen her.

Like that real-life photograph of the Chins, it’s more moving than anything in the text itself.

* “Carry the Tiger to the Mountain,” David Henry Hwang Theatre at the Union Center for the Arts, 120 N. Judge John Aiso St., L.A. Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Saturdays-Sundays, 2 p.m. (No matinee today; show time this Thursday is 7 p.m.) Ends March 14. $15-$27. (800) 233-3123 or (213) 625-7000. Running time: 2 hours.

Beulah Quo: Lily Chin

Reggie Lee: Vincent Chin

Benjamin Lum: David Chin

Cindy Lu: Hannah Hsu

Kim Montelibano: Patti Lin

Kandice Cline: Edsel Girl

Richard Gallegos: Tommy

Robert Greenberg: Car Salesman

Steve Humphreys: Mark Stetz

Matt K. Miller: Katz

Barry Sigismondi: Donald Evans

Written by Cherylene Lee. Directed by Tim Dang. Set by E. Junior Usaraga. Costumes by Dori Quan. Lighting by Jose Lopez. Sound and projections Miles Ono. Percussion David Cheung. Stage manager Ricardo Figueroa.