“Maybe we wouldn’t get away with it these days.” – Philip Hinchcliffe[1]
The legacy of Doctor Who is vast and varied, but not without its blemishes. For some viewers, like one Chinese Doctor Who fan, episodes like The Talons of Weng-Chiang are not just flawed, but deeply painful due to their reliance on harmful stereotypes. This essay, originally featured in Lindy Orthia’s collection Doctor Who and Race, delves into the problematic representation within this beloved serial, specifically focusing on its invocation of the infamous Doctor Fu Manchu trope. While The Talons of Weng-Chiang is often fondly remembered, a critical examination reveals how deeply ingrained racist caricatures, embodied by figures like Doctor Fu Manchu, shaped its narrative and continue to resonate today.
John Bennett’s portrayal of Li H’sen Chang, while a performance, unfortunately leans into established ‘yellowface’ tropes, echoing the visual language associated with Doctor Fu Manchu and perpetuating harmful stereotypes.
The Enduring Shadow of Doctor Fu Manchu
The Talons of Weng-Chiang often faces criticism for two main issues: the questionable giant rat and the casting of white actor John Bennett in ‘yellowface’ as the Chinese villain Li H’Sen Chang. While some fans might dismiss these as products of their time, the ‘yellowface’ element, inextricably linked to the Doctor Fu Manchu archetype, requires deeper scrutiny. The tendency to avoid labeling beloved stories as ‘racist’ can inadvertently obscure the very real presence and impact of racism. Loving a story shouldn’t necessitate overlooking its problematic aspects.
Fans frequently excuse both the rat and the yellowface through the lens of 1970s television limitations. Technological constraints and societal attitudes are cited as mitigating factors, suggesting Asian actors were less accessible or that such portrayals were simply accepted norms. However, this defense sidesteps the more profound issue: the reliance on established, racist tropes like those popularized by Doctor Fu Manchu.
Even casting a Chinese actor in Bennett’s role wouldn’t fundamentally resolve the issues in Talons. The problem lies not just in the ‘yellowface’ casting, but in the pervasive collection of derogatory clichés that saturate the narrative, clichés directly inherited from the Doctor Fu Manchu tradition. The very essence of Talons draws heavily from this well of racist imagery.
Crafting the Caricature: Sax Rohmer and the Genesis of Doctor Fu Manchu
Jago: You mean to say the Celestial Chang was involved in all these Machiavellian machinations?
The Doctor: Yes, up to his epicanthic eyebrows.
Racial caricatures, including those embodied by Doctor Fu Manchu, are not accidental; they are deliberately constructed for specific purposes. While political motivations or media sensationalism might drive some, author Arthur Sarsfield Ward, pen name Sax Rohmer, created Doctor Fu Manchu primarily for commercial success. As his biographers note, the socio-political climate was ripe for a “Chinese villain.” The lingering anxieties of the Boxer Rebellion and heightened attention towards London’s Limehouse district, then perceived as an exotic and dangerous locale, provided fertile ground for Rohmer’s creation.
Drawing upon pre-existing anti-Chinese sentiments already circulating in British newspapers, boys’ magazines, and political discourse, Rohmer conceived Doctor Fu Manchu in 1912. He was not the first “Oriental” criminal mastermind, but undeniably the most influential. Doctor Fu Manchu reached peak notoriety in the 1920s and 1930s, making Rohmer a globally successful and widely read author. The enduring legacy of Doctor Fu Manchu lies in his potent and harmful representation of Chinese identity.
Many Doctor Who narratives borrow from the pulp fiction genre that spawned Doctor Fu Manchu. Rohmer, confessing his ignorance of Chinese culture, liberally incorporated Western fantasies of secret societies and esoteric knowledge – themes echoed in Doctor Who stories like Tomb of the Cybermen and Invasion of the Dinosaurs. Similarly, the trope of mesmerism, utilized by Doctor Fu Manchu in The Face of Fu Manchu, finds a parallel in Doctor Who villains like the Master.
However, The Talons of Weng-Chiang transcends mere borrowing; it is an intentional pastiche of the Doctor Fu Manchu universe. It incorporates numerous hallmarks of “Fu-land”: superscience, hypnosis, fanatical cults, hidden lairs, exotic drugs, and damsels in distress. While individual elements might appear in other Doctor Who stories, Talons uniquely assembles them within a framework of orientalist villainy, deeply reminiscent of Doctor Fu Manchu.
Producer Philip Hinchcliffe admitted to a vague awareness of the Doctor Fu Manchu milieu, associating it with “Chinese, Limehouse, and skulduggery, opium dens and things.” It is likely that Hinchcliffe and writer Robert Holmes drew inspiration from the 1960s Doctor Fu Manchu film series starring Christopher Lee, much like they referenced Hammer Horror films for other Doctor Who stories of the era. Parallels abound: sewer tunnels as infiltration routes ( Face of Fu Manchu and Talons), exotic poisons derived from rare flora or fauna, and elaborate, pseudo-oriental lairs.
In Talons, the Doctor Fu Manchu persona is split between Magnus Greel, aka Weng-Chiang, and his acolyte Li H’Sen Chang. Greel embodies the superscience and cult aspects, while Chang provides the visual Doctor Fu Manchu image, complete with ‘yellowface’ makeup and stage performances in ornate Chinese costume.
Chang’s primary function as Greel’s servant is to procure young white women, echoing a disturbing undercurrent present in Doctor Fu Manchu narratives, albeit often subtly. While Doctor Who refrains from explicit sexual violence, the implied threat and the imagery of vulnerable women are undeniable, perhaps drawing from films like The Brides of Fu Manchu. Deleted script lines further amplify this unsettling element, with Greel explicitly targeting “maidens at the point of puberty.”
Yellow Peril and Opium Dens: Fueling the Doctor Fu Manchu Mythos
In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, a demographic imbalance existed in Western countries, with Chinese men significantly outnumbering Chinese women. This disparity fueled anxieties about interracial relationships and the racist concept of the “Yellow Peril,” fearing the dilution of the “white race.” Despite the lack of legal prohibitions in Britain comparable to those in the US and Canada, the British press propagated unfounded fears of Chinese men as sexual predators preying on white women. This paranoia, while central to the “Yellow Peril” narrative, is surprisingly less prominent in the Doctor Fu Manchu stories themselves. Instead, the focus shifts to other stereotypes.
Exotic drugs, particularly opium, are central to Rohmer’s stories, with Doctor Fu Manchu himself portrayed as an opium addict. Sensationalized accounts of white women being corrupted in Chinese opium dens became a staple of early 20th-century British journalism. Limehouse, London’s Chinatown, became a focal point of fascination, simultaneously alluring and frightening, a perfect setting for both Doctor Fu Manchu‘s headquarters and Magnus Greel’s lair. While opium’s presence in Talons is limited, Greel’s disdainful reference to his followers as “opium-sodden scum” and the use of ether and “broth of oblivion” as incapacitants maintain this thematic link.
Limehouse, depicted here around 1905, became a potent symbol in British imagination, often romanticized and demonized in media, mirroring the fictional worlds of Doctor Fu Manchu and influencing settings like the one in The Talons of Weng-Chiang.
“More Mickey Finn than shark’s fin.”: Culinary Stereotypes and Takeaway Culture
Editor Douglas G. Greene suggests Rohmer’s Doctor Fu Manchu novels endure not for their social commentary, but as escapist fantasy. However, these novels, born from racial paranoia, reveal much about the societal anxieties of their time. Talons, while seemingly escapist, also subtly reflects contemporary British realities of 1977.
The Doctor Fu Manchu stories feature an “elixir vitae” for longevity, mirroring Greel’s “secret of life” in Talons, both requiring a form of “cannibalism.” The Doctor’s dark humor in Talons, referencing “Bird’s Nest Soup” and asking if the extraction chamber is “where you do the cooking?”, links the narrative to Chinese cuisine stereotypes. The “broth of oblivion” gag, initially described as “more Mickey Finn than shark’s fin,” and further deleted lines referencing “Foo Yung with noodles,” directly connect the story to the burgeoning British Chinese takeaway culture and the enduring Western suspicion surrounding its ingredients. This suspicion, as evidenced by a 2011 incident where a restaurant suffered due to false dog meat rumors, highlights the persistent undercurrent of racial prejudice.
British Chinese communities experience disproportionately high rates of racial harassment, and Chinese takeaways, often isolated and conspicuous, become frequent targets. Talons, set before the takeaway boom, utilizes its predecessor, the Chinese laundry, as a front for criminal activity, reflecting another 1970s anxiety: the exaggerated fear of Chinese immigrants operating secret criminal enterprises behind seemingly innocuous businesses. The Tong in Talons placing Mr. Sin in Litefoot’s laundry subtly evokes this fear.
While fans might defend Talons as fantasy, Rohmer himself claimed realism, asserting that Limehouse harbored a large criminal element from China. This assertion, however, was a product of Rohmer’s prejudiced imagination. Contemporary accounts described Limehouse’s Chinese residents as “perfectly well-conducted citizens,” known for their peacefulness and honesty. Chinese migration was driven by economic hardship, not criminality. The majority of Limehouse’s small Chinese population were sailors, many facing exploitation and displacement. Yet, the myth of the criminal Chinese immigrant persisted.
Sociologist James L. Watson, writing in 1977, the year Talons aired, noted the Chinese as “the least understood” minority in Britain, often ignored by research and government. He observed a shift in media portrayal, from neglect to sensationalized reports focusing on gang activity in Soho, often falsely attributing crimes to “secret Chinese triad societies,” thus resurrecting the old stereotype of the dangerous Chinese immigrant.
These negative portrayals were particularly impactful due to the limited and often stereotypical representation of Chinese people on British television in the late 1970s. Shows like Mind Your Language and It Ain’t Half Hot Mum offered comedic but deeply stereotypical portrayals. Action shows like The New Avengers and Gangsters reinforced the image of Chinese people as criminals or exotic outsiders. Talons, unfortunately, did not deviate from this problematic pattern.
Beyond Inscrutability: A Nuanced Villain?
While Talons perpetuates many Doctor Fu Manchu tropes, it also deviates in some respects. Unlike Doctor Fu Manchu, whose ambitions often involved global domination and racial supremacy, Greel’s motivations in Talons seem more personal and less overtly racially driven. While the Doctor suggests the Tong aims for world rule, Greel’s primary goal appears to be self-preservation and escape. Despite the story’s reliance on racist tropes, it avoids explicitly framing it as a “race war.”
Another notable deviation is the portrayal of inscrutability. John Bennett’s performance as Chang, to his credit, avoids the blank inscrutability often associated with Doctor Fu Manchu portrayals, offering a more sympathetic and humanized villain. This contrasts with the more dehumanized, demonic portrayal of Doctor Fu Manchu.
Chang emerges as the more compelling villain in Talons. He expertly manipulates the prejudices of those around him, using his stage persona as a “comical ‘Chinee’” to mask his true nature. His interactions with the police and his stage banter showcase this calculated performance. Chang’s line, “I understand we all look the same,” carries a satirical edge, highlighting the racist assumptions he encounters.
Despite his humble origins, Chang is intelligent and perceptive, not simply a superstitious follower. He questions Greel and acts out of self-interest, aiming for personal advancement. Ultimately, when betrayed by Greel, Chang turns against his master.
Li H’sen Chang, therefore, presents a complex figure, a series of illusions layered upon each other. A white actor in ‘yellowface’ portrays a Chinese man who, in turn, plays a stereotypical “Chinaman” for his audience. His stage mesmerism is real, his ventriloquist’s dummy alive. This theme of illusion permeates Talons, from holographic ghosts to the Doctor’s Sherlock Holmes persona to Weng-Chiang’s false godhood. Chang, in his glittering stage costume, embodying the deceptive oriental figure, is perhaps most reminiscent of Doctor Fu Manchu.
However, unlike the cartoonish villainy of Christopher Lee’s Doctor Fu Manchu or Greel’s undignified demise, Chang’s death is presented as tragic. Betrayed and defeated, he seeks solace in an opium den, his final moments marked by lyrical visions of his ancestors. His dying act, providing irrelevant information to the Doctor, serves not the plot, but the character, offering a poignant exit for a complex, albeit problematic, figure.
Excursus: Contrasting Representations – The Mind of Evil and Divergences
It is striking to contrast Talons with Doctor Who‘s earlier portrayal of Chinese characters in The Mind of Evil (1971). While Brides of Fu Manchu (1966) depicts Doctor Fu Manchu plotting world domination, The Mind of Evil features Chinese delegates as victims, not villains, in the Master’s global takeover scheme. This might represent a deliberate inversion of the Doctor Fu Manchu trope or a broader response to contemporary “Red Scare” anxieties.
The Mind of Evil also satirizes British ignorance of Chinese culture, contrasting it with the Doctor’s more informed perspective. The Brigadier’s simplistic view of Chinese identity is juxtaposed with the Doctor’s nuanced understanding of Hokkien and Cantonese dialects and Chinese customs. Even the joke about “dried squid and stewed jellyfish” is flipped, with the Doctor expressing comfort with the menu, subverting the typical Western aversion to “exotic” Chinese food.
Writer Don Houghton’s marriage to Pik-Sen Lim, who played Chin Lee in The Mind of Evil, likely contributed to the more nuanced portrayal. Lim assisted with Hokkien dialogue and coached Jon Pertwee, lending authenticity and challenging stereotypical representations.
In stark contrast, Talons features the Fourth Doctor’s boastful but ultimately nonsensical Chinese dialogue, lacking the authenticity and cultural understanding present in The Mind of Evil. His gibberish is no more effective than Sergeant Kyle’s pidgin English, highlighting the missed opportunity to offer a counterpoint to prejudiced attitudes.
The Problematic Professor Litefoot: Casual Racism and Missed Opportunities
The character of Professor Litefoot, intended as a Watson-esque figure, becomes a point of significant discomfort due to his casual racism. His lineage, son of a participant in the Second Opium War, connects him directly to British colonial aggression in China. Despite growing up in China, Litefoot professes a lack of understanding of the Chinese, echoing colonial attitudes of Western superiority and “Oriental” inscrutability. His casual use of the racial slur “Chinks” is particularly jarring.
While some might attempt to excuse Litefoot’s language as period-appropriate or satirical, the narrative provides no such indication. Unlike a character like Jago, whose potential bigotry might be played for comic relief, Litefoot is presented as a respectable, educated figure. Crucially, the Doctor, typically the moral compass, does not react to Litefoot’s slur, nor to Sergeant Kyle’s prejudiced remarks. The Doctor’s line, “Well, they were Chinese ruffians,” when Litefoot complains about being attacked, further normalizes racist attitudes within the narrative, missing opportunities for critique. Only Chang’s ironic mirroring of stereotypes offers any challenge to these ingrained prejudices.
Yellowface: A Lingering Stain
‘In a perfect world, we should all be able to play anything we want,’ said [actress Kim] Miyori, ‘(but while) it’s acceptable for Caucasian actors to play Asians, it is not acceptable for Asian actors to play Caucasians.’[52]
The question remains: why cast a white actor in ‘yellowface’ as Li H’Sen Chang? This decision might reflect a historical pattern: no Asian actor has ever portrayed Doctor Fu Manchu. The production team may have even aimed to replicate Christopher Lee’s Doctor Fu Manchu look, evident in the elaborate makeup process Bennett underwent, mirroring the creation of Doctor Who monsters through prosthetics. However, this choice carries significant negative implications, denying opportunities to Asian actors and perpetuating harmful stereotypes.
Yellowface, like blackface, has a long and damaging history, predating cinema. Hollywood’s practice of casting white stars in Asian roles, driven by commercial anxieties, became an established, albeit offensive, practice. British cinema followed suit. This practice not only insulted Asian audiences but, more significantly, prevented Asian actors from achieving mainstream success, creating a cycle of underrepresentation.
David Yip, star of The Chinese Detective (1981-82), a groundbreaking series featuring a Chinese lead, emphasized the importance of opportunity for Asian actors beyond stereotypical roles. Despite the success of The Chinese Detective, Yip lamented the continued lack of diverse representation of Chinese people on British television, highlighting the persistent issue of stereotypical casting and the absence of positive role models. Asian British actors continue to protest the practice of white actors “yellowing up” for Asian roles, demonstrating the ongoing frustration with this form of misrepresentation.
Criticism of Doctor Fu Manchu stereotypes is not a recent phenomenon. From the outset, these portrayals faced protest. In the 1910s and 1920s, Chinese students in Britain actively protested stage productions featuring harmful stereotypes, and diplomatic protests were lodged against these “vicious” representations. Despite these protests, the stereotypes endured. As Time magazine noted in 1965, the Doctor Fu Manchu films tapped into a persistent “jumpy vein of contemporary anxiety” regarding the “Yellow Peril.” In 1982, Canadian broadcaster TV Ontario declined to air Talons after consulting with the Chinese community, highlighting the ongoing sensitivity and harm caused by these portrayals, even shortly after its original broadcast.
Conclusion: Acknowledging the Shadow of Doctor Fu Manchu
Actress Elizabeth Chan highlights the continued invisibility of British Chinese people in UK public life, particularly in arts and media. When Chinese characters do appear, they often fall into stereotypical categories: criminals, spies, or exoticized figures. While ‘yellowface’ might be less acceptable on contemporary British television, the underlying stereotypes embodied by Doctor Fu Manchu and perpetuated by Talons remain potent. British Chinese communities continue to be associated with organized crime and negative stereotypes in media portrayals. The trope of the criminal Chinatown persists in film and television. Even recent productions like Sherlock (2010-) have drawn upon orientalist tropes reminiscent of Doctor Fu Manchu.
The problem lies not solely with on-screen representation, but with the lack of diversity behind the camera. The overwhelmingly white British television industry limits opportunities for non-white Britons to tell their own stories and shape their own representations.
Perhaps a symbolic rehabilitation of Talons could involve imagining Chang removing his makeup and ‘yellowface’ prosthetics, revealing the artifice of the stereotype, much like the real-life performers who adopted such personas. However, the very premise of a Doctor Fu Manchu pastiche without acknowledging its inherent racism is problematic.
While the creators of Talons likely did not intend to deliberately demonize Chinese people, they nonetheless reproduced harmful stereotypes deeply rooted in racist intent. In a media landscape still lacking in realistic portrayals of Chinese Britons, these stereotypes retain their power to harm, perpetuating prejudice and contributing to negative self-images within the British Chinese community. For a small and dispersed population, lacking counter-examples in popular culture, these stereotypes are particularly damaging. The increased racial abuse and attacks experienced by British Chinese people underscore the real-world consequences of such representations.
As researchers Benton and Gomez noted in 2008, resentment towards offensive media portrayals of “orientals” as inscrutable, cruel, and mysterious remains a recurring theme in British Chinese creative expression. Nearly a century after Doctor Fu Manchu’s creation, his shadow continues to loom over the British Chinese community.
By downplaying or defending the racism in The Talons of Weng-Chiang, fans inadvertently contribute to the perpetuation of Doctor Fu Manchu’s harmful legacy. However, as thoughtful viewers, we are capable of appreciating Talons while acknowledging its problematic elements. Just as we can critique the ridiculous giant rat while still enjoying the story, we can and should acknowledge and confront the racist elements within The Talons of Weng-Chiang.
[1] Steve Broster (director), The Last Hurrah (supplementary documentary on The Talons of Weng-Chiang DVD release), BBC, 2010.
[2] myfavouriteplum, comment to “Talons of Weng-Chiang: racist?” (9 July 2010), Doctor Who (Livejournal community). Retrieved 19 August 2012 at http://doctorwho.livejournal.com/6464482.html?thread=96569058#t96569058.
[3] This is a sample of male Chinese actors, of comparable age and career length to Bennett, who were working in British TV at the time. In this essay, ‘British Chinese’ (or simply ‘Chinese’) is an umbrella term for people of Chinese ancestry living in Britain, including British-born Chinese people, people born in China and Taiwan, and ethnic Chinese people from former British colonies such as Hong Kong and Singapore, and from other countries such as Vietnam and Malaysia. As you can see, British Chinese identity is complex. Britons self-identifying as Mixed Race add further complexity to the picture.
[4] Cay Van Ash and Elizabeth Sax Rohmer, Master of Villainy: A Biography of Sax Rohmer, Bowling Green: Bowling Green University Popular Press, 1972.
[5] George Orwell’s 1940 list of foreign stereotypes in boys’ weekly papers includes “Chinese: Sinister, treacherous. Wears pigtail.” George Orwell, Essays, London: Penguin, 2000, 78-100. Schools taught almost nothing about China, so the boys’ and girls’ magazines went uncontradicted by fact: “these images were to breed fear and righteous indignation in generations of British youth.” Kathryn Castle, Britannia’s Children: reading colonialism through children’s books and magazines, Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1996, 146.
[6] This essay focuses on the United Kingdom, but there was similar hostility to Chinese immigrants in the United States, Canada, New Zealand, South Africa, and my own country of Australia – including harassment, discrimination, race riots, and anti-Chinese immigration laws, fuelled by an inimical press.
[7] Jess Nevins, “On Yellow Peril Thrillers” (2001), Aunt Violet’s Book Museum. Retrieved 19 August 2012 at http://www.violetbooks.com/yellowperil.html.
[8] Karen Kingsbury, “Yellow Peril, Dark Hero: Fu Manchu and the ‘Gothic Bedevilment’ of Racist Intent”, in Ruth Bienstock Anolik and Douglas L. Howard, eds., The Gothic Other: Racial and Social Constructions in the Literary Imagination, Jefferson: McFarland & Co, 2004, 104-119.
[9] Thomas J. Cogan, “Western Images of Asia: Fu Manchu and the Yellow Peril”, Waseda Studies in Social Science, 3, 2 (2002), 37-64.
[10] Quoted in Douglas G. Greene, “Introduction”, in Sax Rohmer, The Insidious Dr. Fu-Manchu, New York: Dover, 1997, i-vii.
[11] Ward himself may have been a member of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn and the Rosicrucians. Kingsbury, “Yellow Peril”, 107.
[12] Another source Ward used was himself: Fu’s intense green eyes were one of several of Ward’s “own characteristics, both real and imagined” with which he invested his villain. (Kingsbury, “Yellow Peril”, 114. One might even remark that, as a flattering authorial self-insertion, the character was Ward’s Mary Fu.) Fu’s eyes “sometimes burned like witch lamps” (Sax Rohmer, The Return of Doctor Fu Manchu, New York: A.L. Burt Company, 1916, 284); in Talons, Chang’s eyes literally flash as he hypnotizes his victims.
[13] Stella Broster (producer), Victoriana and Chinoiserie – References in The Talons of Weng-Chiang (supplementary documentary on The Talons of Weng-Chiang DVD release), BBC, 2010.
[14] Martin Wiggins, “Infotext” (commentary in subtitles), Doctor Who: The Talons of Weng-Chiang DVD release, BBC, 2010.
[15] Fu flicks of an earlier generation may also have had some input: Mr Sin’s inhuman face resembles Boris Karloff’s in The Mask of Fu Manchu (1932).
[16] Terrance Dicks, Doctor Who and the Talons of Weng-Chiang, London: Target Books, 1977, 102.
[17] There is no such “ancient Chinese god”, though there is a river in Guangdong Province with this name (now more usually transliterated as ‘Wengjiang’). We might speculate that Greel arrived here and was taken to be the god of the river.
[18] The apostrophe in ‘H’Sen’ seems to be an error – perhaps a cousin of the variably present hyphen in ‘Fu-Manchu’. Kingsbury, “Yellow Peril”, 117n2.
[19] Is there a hint of sexual threat about Chang’s remark to Leela on their first encounter? “I’m sure we shall meet again… Perhaps under more pleasant circumstances.”
[20] Wiggins, “Infotext”.
[21] “Australia objects to them [Asians, Africans, and Pacific Islanders] because they introduce a lower civilisation. It objects because they intermarry with white women, and thereby lower the white type, and because they have already created the beginnings of a mongrel race, that has many of the vices of both its parents and few of the virtues of either.” The Bulletin, 22 June 1901, 6. Quoted in Bill Hornadge, The Yellow Peril: a squint at some Australian attitudes towards Orientals, Dubbo: Review Publications, 1971, 33.
[22] By contrast with, for example, Ming the Merciless’ lust for the white Dale Arden in the Flash Gordon serials (1936).
[23] Kingsbury, “Yellow Peril”, 110.
[24] There are notable exceptions, such as the pre-Hayes Code The Mask of Fu Manchu (1932), in which Fu rallies his troops thusly: “Then conquer and breed… kill the white man… and take his women!” In both that film and the Lee films of the sixties, Fu Manchu’s daughter is a disturbing sexual sadist with a taste for the whip. (This female equivalent of Fu, the alluring but treacherous ‘Dragon Lady’, is thankfully absent from Talons, but she did crop up in the new series story Turn Left (2008).) For an example closer to the time of Talons, see Thoroughly Modern Millie (1967) and its ‘white slavery’ storyline.
[25] Julia Lovell, The Opium War, Sydney: Picador, 2011.
[26] Stella Broster (producer), Limehouse – A Victorian Chinatown (supplementary documentary on The Talons of Weng-Chiang DVD release), BBC, 2010.
[27] Greene, “Introduction”.
[28] Wiggins, “Infotext”.
[29] Anon., “Chinese restaurant bankruptcy fear after false dog meat rumour”, The Daily Telegraph, 13 October 2011.
[30] David Parker, “Rethinking British Chinese Identities”, in Tracey Skelton and Gill Valentine, eds., Cool Places: Geographies of Youth Cultures, London: Routledge, 1998.
[31] Sue Adamson, Bankole Cole, Gary Craig, Basharat Hussain, Luana Smith, Ian Law, Carmen Lau, Chak-Kwan Chan and Tom Cheung, Hidden from Public View? Racism against the Chinese Population. London: The Monitoring Group, April 2009.
[32] Van Ash and Rohmer, Master of Villainy.
[33] Gregor Benton and Edmund Terence Gomez, The Chinese in Britain, 1800-present: Economy, Transnationalism, Identity, Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008, 292-293.
[34] Kingsbury, “Yellow Peril”.
[35] Broster, Limehouse.
[36] Benton and Gomez, The Chinese in Britain, 24-26.
[37] James L. Watson, “The Chinese: Hong Kong Villagers in the British Catering Trade”, in James L. Watson, ed., Between Two Cultures: Migrants and Minorities in Britain, Blackwell: Oxford, 1977, 181-213.
[38] Doctor Who would return to the same theme two decades later: Chang Lee, the decent but misguided kid in the 1996 television movie, is a member of a San Francisco gang.
[39] Meanwhile at the cinema, there was One of our Dinosaurs is Missing (1975), a sort of comic Disney Fu Manchu packed with British stars, including a yellowface Peter Ustinov gabbling gibberish at his criminal gang. Action movies imported from Hong Kong did offer an alternative view of Chinese culture for seventies Britain, albeit creating their own stereotype in the process.
[40] Rohmer, Insidious.
[41] Anthony Then, who plays Chang’s assistant Lee, is well worth keeping an eye on throughout the story: with no lines and no closeups, he nonetheless gives a thoughtful performance. Then was an accomplished musician, teacher, dancer, and choreographer who would go on to co-found the Singapore Ballet Company. Bill Henkin, The Rocky Horror Picture Show Book, New York City: Hawthorn/Dutton Books, 1979.
[42] Kingsbury, “Yellow Peril”, 112.
[43] This is Professor Scarman’s dismissive remark to his fleeing Egyptian assistant in The Pyramids of Mars (1975). Scarman ignores Achmed’s warning and is promptly killed.
[44] Jim Steinmeyer, The Glorious Deception: the Double Life of William Robinson, aka Chung Ling Soo, the “Marvellous Chinese Conjurer”, New York: Carrol and Graf, 2005.
[45] In a sense, Greel too is in yellowface, in that he’s impersonating a Chinese deity, his real face hidden not by rubber or makeup but by a mask. (Jonathan Blum, pers. comm.)
[46] Andrew Pixley, “The Mind of Evil: Archive”, Doctor Who Magazine 208, 19 January 1994.
[47] A Chinese Australian friend of mine mentioned that this reduced his family to helpless laughter.
[48] Broster, Limehouse.
[49] Arthur Dong (director), Hollywood Chinese, Deep Focus Productions, 2007.
[50] Kingsbury, “Yellow Peril”, 108.
[51] The other usual epithet is ‘yellow’, also used matter-of-factly in Talons, in this case by Leela who refers to Chang as “the yellow one.” Adamson, “Hidden From View”.
[52] Yayoi Lena Winfrey, “Yellowface: Asians on White Screens” (2011), IMdiversity.com. Retrieved 19 August 2012 at
[53] John Bennett, commentary to Episode 1, Doctor Who: The Talons of Weng-Chiang DVD release, BBC, 2010.
[54] Robert B. Ito, “A Certain Slant: A Brief History of Hollywood Yellowface”, Bright Lights Film Journal, 18 (1997), online.
[55] Mark Duguid and Ling-Wan Pak, “British-Chinese Cinema” (n.d.), BFI screenonline. Retrieved 19 August 2012 at http://www.screenonline.org.uk/film/id/475755/index.html.
[56] Dong, Hollywood Chinese.
[57] Alan Clarke, “Interview with David Yip, the Chinese Detective”, Marxism Today, October 1983, 19-23.
[58] Benton and Gomez, The Chinese in Britain.
[59] Ian Burrell, “Chinese actor blames racism for lack of role models”, The Independent, 16 April 2002.
[60] Benton and Gomez, The Chinese in Britain.
[61] Kingsbury, “Yellow Peril”, 105.
[62] Benton and Gomez, The Chinese in Britain, 313.
[63] Darrell Y. Hamamoto, Monitored peril: Asian Americans and the politics of TV representation, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1994.
[64] Anon., “Cinema: Chinaman’s Chance”, Time Magazine, 19 November 1965.
[65] Anon., “Overseas Overview”, Doctor Who Monthly 71, December 1982.
[66] Elizabeth Chan, “Chinese Britons have put up with racism for too long”, The Guardian 11 January 2012.
[67] Adamson et al., Hidden From Public View.
[68] Maria Noëlle Ng, “Representing Chinatown: Dr. Fu-Manchu at the Disappearing Moon Cafe”, Canadian Literature, 163 (Winter 1999), 157-175.
[69] Parker, “Rethinking”.
[70] Owen Gibson, “Diversify or die: equality chief’s stark message to broadcasting industry”, The Guardian, 17 July 2008.
[71] Stuart Brown, Isobel Hawson, Tony Graves and Mukesh Barot, Eclipse: Developing strategies to combat racism in theatre, London: Arts Council England, 2002.
[72] Parker, “Rethinking”.
[73] Adamson et al., Hidden From Public View.
[74] Benton and Gomez, The Chinese in Britain, 349-50.
