Don't get me wrong. I'm a big fan of Simu Liu. In fact, I liked him much more in the Canadian sitcom Kim's Convenience. He plays Jung, a rebellious young man who moves away from his family, gets a job, and develops a romantic relationship with his white Canadian boss, Shannon. He's funny, confident, attractive, and sometimes makes mistakes. He's a normal guy, and that's what makes him interesting.
Compare that with Shang-Chi. He's an amazing martial artist who can save the world, but he doesn't have a girlfriend or romantic storyline. This reminds me of an old Hollywood problem: Asian men are often shown as fighters, geniuses, or sidekicks, but not as romantic leads.
Think about Jet Li in Romeo Must Die. He starred alongside Aaliyah, but their characters never shared a kiss in the final movie. A kissing scene was reportedly filmed and removed, although the reasons are disputed.
That's what bothers me. Hollywood is celebrating an Asian guy who knows martial arts. Haven't we been doing that since Bruce Lee?
I want to see Asian men who are attractive, funny, romantic, and confident without needing superpowers to prove themselves.
Here are a few shows and performers that I think do a much better job.
1. Physical: 100 — You Don't Have to Be Loud to Be Strong
One of my favorite Korean shows is Netflix's Physical: 100. It features 100 extremely fit people competing in difficult challenges. But what impressed me wasn't their muscles. It was how they treated each other.
In Western sports, athletes sometimes use trash talk and intimidation to show how tough they are. Think about Conor McGregor, who often insults his opponents before a fight.
But Physical: 100 shows another kind of confidence.
Before one competition, Lee Dae-won performed a high kick near Olympic gold medalist Yoon Sung-bin's face, apparently trying to scare him. Yoon didn't react or try to scare him back. He simply competed and won.
I loved that moment. Real confidence doesn't need to show off.
Another great example is Choo Sung-hoon, an older MMA fighter. During a challenge where teams had to move a giant ship, younger contestants trusted his leadership. He helped organize the team, and they won.
Choo Sung-hoon demonstrates leadership during the ship challenge.
I think this reflects an important part of Korean culture: respect for elders and their experience.
Compare that with American television. In MasterChef Season 5, 56-year-old Leslie Gilliams had a big argument with 18-year-old Ahran Cho. Their fight became entertainment. Or think about Pierce, Chevy Chase's character in Community, who is often treated as an old fool.
Of course, not every Korean or American show is like this. But I find the difference interesting. In Physical: 100, older people can be respected for their knowledge instead of being laughed at.
That's why I like Physical: 100. It's not about physical strength. It's about the culture.
2. Chinese Stand-Up Comedy — Being Asian Doesn't Have to Be the Joke
Another thing I've been enjoying is Chinese stand-up comedy.
In America, comedians like Jimmy O. Yang, Ronny Chieng, and Jiaoying Summers often joke about Asian parents, accents, race, and stereotypes. I understand why. These jokes are familiar to many Asian Americans, and these comedians have helped make Asian performers more popular.
But sometimes I get tired of it. Why does being Asian always have to be the joke?
I remember watching a Chinese comedian named Dou Dou tell a funny story about getting a very cheap haircut. That's it. Just a guy talking about a haircut! But his timing, expressions, and storytelling made it hilarious.
He wasn't joking about being Chinese. He was simply a funny, confident guy. I thought he seemed really cool.
One Asian American comedian I also enjoy is Ray Lau. He has a comedy routine called How to Be Fake at Work. It's about pretending to be excited at work when you really aren't. Almost everyone can relate to that, no matter their race.
I think Ray represents a positive change. Jimmy O. Yang and Ronny Chieng helped open doors, but I want to see more Asian comedians whose jokes aren't always about race.
An Asian comedian shouldn't have to be funny because he's Asian. He should be funny because he's funny.
3. Worth It — What If the Asian Guy Is the Boss?
Another important part of representation is who gets to create the show.
Shang-Chi is an Asian character in Marvel's universe. But what happens when an Asian person creates his own successful show?
One of my favorite examples is Worth It, a popular YouTube food series created by Steven Lim.
Steven Lim and his collaborators on the YouTube series Worth It.
In the show, Steven and his white co-host Andrew Ilnyckyj try foods at three different prices to see which one is the best value.
What I find interesting is Steven's quiet confidence. He's often guiding the show, introducing the food, and leading the conversation. He's not a big, muscular guy, but you can tell he's one of the people in charge.
I also like how Andrew respects Steven and shows real interest in Asian food and culture. When they visit places like Taiwan or Korea, Andrew is excited to learn about the food. Sometimes his Mandarin pronunciation even seems better than Steven's!
Compare that with older Hollywood shows like The Green Hornet, where the Asian character Kato is talented but still works in a story centered on a white hero.
In Worth It, Steven isn't the Asian sidekick. He's one of the creators.
Instead of waiting for Hollywood to give Asian men better roles, why not create our own shows?
4. BTS — Asian Men Are Changing the World
Growing up in the 1990s and 2000s, I remember Asian American men often complaining that they were overlooked in dating. Wong Fu Productions even made a short film called Yellow Fever about Asian men and dating stereotypes.
But today, things are changing.
BTS has helped bring Korean music, fashion, and male celebrities to audiences around the world.
Look at BTS, K-pop, Korean dramas, and KPop Demon Hunters. Korean male performers have millions of fans around the world, including many young women in Western countries.
What's interesting is that they aren't trying to look like American action heroes. They have their own hairstyles, clothing, music, and style. And people love them for it.
For a long time, Hollywood helped decide what an attractive male celebrity should look like. Now Korean entertainment is showing the world something different.
I remember a controversy involving a Texas television presenter who joked that BTS-themed Oreo cookies contained a message saying "Death to America." He said it was a joke, but many people were upset.
We can't know exactly why he made that joke. But it made me wonder whether some people are uncomfortable with how powerful Korean pop culture has become.
For years, Asian men were often overlooked as romantic leads in Western entertainment. Now Korean male singers are becoming international heartthrobs.
Asian men no longer need Hollywood's approval to be seen as attractive, confident, or cool.
Conclusion — We Need More Than Asian Superheroes
My problem with Shang-Chi isn't that I dislike Asian superheroes. It's that I want more from Asian representation than an Asian guy who can fight.
I want to see Asian men who are romantic, funny, confident, and respected. I want to see people like Yoon Sung-bin, who show strength without arrogance, and Choo Sung-hoon, who earns respect through leadership. I want comedians like Dou Dou and Ray Lau, who can be funny without constantly making their race the punchline.
And most importantly, I want more Asian creators like Steven Lim, who aren't just characters in someone else's story. They're the ones creating the show, setting the rules, and deciding how they want to be represented.
I'm not saying Asian culture is better than Western culture. But Asian cultures have their own ideas about confidence, leadership, humor, and masculinity. We shouldn't have to change those values just to fit into Hollywood's idea of what makes someone cool or attractive.
Shang-Chi was an important step, but I don't think the ultimate goal should be getting more Asian faces into Hollywood movies. Why are we so focused on getting invited into someone else's world when we have the talent and creativity to build our own?
Look at K-pop, Physical: 100, and Worth It. These are examples of Asian performers and creators finding success without waiting for Hollywood to give them permission.
Instead of constantly asking for a seat at someone else's table, why not build our own table?
Better yet, stop asking to be invited to someone else's party. Throw your own party, create your own platform, and let the world come to you.
To me, that's what real Asian representation should be about. Not just being included, but having the power to define ourselves.
