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Welcome to Back of the Napkin, musings from Serviette for the cultured world.
Sometimes stars are invented, and sometimes they’re born. The latter was certainly true of Anna May Wong, Serviette inspiration and iconoclast, who knew from the age of nine that she was destined for the screen. Born Wong Liu Tsong—or “yellow willow frost,” a great note lineup, frankly—she shirked the norms of screen-age conformity while looking serenely lethal. Wong (aptly) grew up on Flower Street in Los Angeles, one of seven children. She watched with rapt attention as her neighborhood frequently transformed into a film set, begging nearby filmmakers to offer her a role in one of their movies.
Wong’s obsession was all-consuming; she quickly began skipping school to visit the nickelodeon theaters, squirreling away lunch money for tickets to the newest “flickers.” Though her parents were less than pleased with their daughter’s cinematic ambitions, she was positively tenacious. This tenacity would soon pay off—while working at a department store, she secured her first acting gig as an extra in the 1919 silent drama The Red Lantern. She continued to land steady jobs as an extra for the next two years before playing her first leading role in The Toll of the Sea at the age of 17, dropping out of school to focus full-time on her craft.
Evidently, she made the right choice. Of her performance in The Toll of the Sea, The New York Times wrote: “She has a difficult role, a role that is botched nine times out of ten, but hers is the tenth performance. Completely unconscious of the camera, with a fine sense of proportion and remarkable pantomimic accuracy […] She should be seen again and often on the screen.”
Wong was quick to capture audiences’ attention not only for her moving performances, but also for her striking presence and beauty. (She boasted an enviable ‘20s flapper aesthetic for most of her career). But Wong was also staunchly outspoken. As a Chinese American woman, she frequently faced racist anti-miscegenation laws and stereotypic casting—for most of her career, it was illegal to depict a woman of color kissing a man of any other race onscreen. Eventually, tired of Hollywood’s portrayal of Asian women, she relocated to Europe, where her star would only grow brighter. It was also where she would meet Marlene Dietrich, her eventual Shanghai Express co-star and rumored paramour—a plot development no studio head could have improved upon.
Might we suggest a viewing party, complemented by Serviette? Consider the following pairings to get you started:
- Piccadilly (1929) and Byronic Hero—for glamour with a dangerous pulse.
- Pavement Butterfly (1929) and Priscus—for sweetness under pressure.
- Daughter of the Dragon (1931) and Sour Diesel—for tart defiance and a taste for trouble.
We thank you for taking the time to read this week’s newsletter—to those who may be inspired to embark on a tour of Wong’s filmography, we wish you happy viewing.