Review: Dustin H. Chinn's new Chance Theater comedy serves up the cultural politics of food

Food isn’t just something you eat. It’s also culture, and therefore a site of conflict.

In canon wars, literary scholars decide which works of literature endure and which fade into oblivion. In culinary battles, chefs fight over the authenticity of a dish, its origin and the acceptable ways it can evolve into the future.

Which battle is fiercer? Hard to say, but kitchens have knives.

In “Colonialism Is Terrible, But Phở Is Delicious,” playwright Dustin H. Chinn views centuries of Vietnamese history through the vicissitudes of what has come to be considered the national dish. Phở — a combination of broth, rice noodles, herbs and meat — is a savory street food with a colonial past and foodie present.

The play, presented by Anaheim’s Chance Theater at the Bette Aitken Theater Arts Center in a rolling world premiere with two other theaters (Aurora Theatre Company in Berkeley and Oregon Contemporary Theatre in Eugene), is divided into three parts. The first is set in French Indochina in the late 19th century, the second takes place in 1999 Vietnam as trade relations with the U.S. are about to be normalized, and the third occurs in present-day gentrified Brooklyn.

Each section is built around a contentious struggle between cultures. Colonialism, as the play depicts, never dies but merely changes forms. The one constant is money, the pursuit of which motors the quest to control.

A Vietnamese cook with her own strongly held gastronomic convictions is brought into an aristocratic French household to serve meals in the proper French way. A no-nonsense street vendor in Vietnam serves an American man and woman who are preparing the way for a Burger King invasion. A food critic brings her Vietnamese American friend to sample the pho at a super upscale Brooklyn eatery that dictates how the dish must be enjoyed.

The triptych structure provides an elegant way for Chinn to tease out an array of cultural complications. But the execution of the vignettes is less impressive than the overall picture.

Comedy thrives under conditions of surprise, but the ideas animating these sketches seem worked out in advance. The humor only occasionally busts out of the schematic frame, leaving few opportunities for the actors or the audience to discover something unexpected.

The production, directed by Chance Theater Executive Artistic Director Oánh Nguyễn, has the smooth veneer of a well-run restaurant. (Scenic designer Avery Tăng vividly evokes the disparate locales with strategic efficiency.) But there's a staccato feeling to the way the comedy plays out.

One aspect of the writing works against rhythm. The Western characters speak with exaggerated accents that are meant to “otherize” them. The device, novel at first in its reversal of the long-standing Western practice of stereotyping, grows tedious as the scenes develop.

The French snobs speak in a style that might make Pepé Le Pew blush. The Burger King ambassadors have Southern accents so thick they sound as if they've been guzzling molasses. Chloé Gay Brewer and Casey Long, who perform these roles, are game troupers up for any outlandishness. But they're saddled with the verbal equivalent of Groucho glasses.

The Vietnamese characters speak in what the stage directions refer to as “Broadcast English.” They are the voices of reason against implacable unreason. Hannah Mariah and Dustin Vuong Nguyen are appealing in roles that ought to be allowed to deepen.

The influence of Qui Nguyen, author of the hit play “Vietgone,” may be behind some of the sillier gags. But his style is informed by a pop-cultural zaniness that is integral to the dramaturgy.

Chinn's comedy of ideas demands more subtlety. But the larger point about the way a dish can preserve the relentless discord of history is delectably served.

This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.