Theatre503 – the ‘national theatre of debut plays’ – premieres love you long time (already) by Vietnamese America writer Katie Đỗ. A funny and moving intergenerational epic, it is about mothers and daughters, migration and memory, the ties that bind us and the cost of breaking free from them. We sat down with Katie to discuss her upcoming performance.
It runs at Theatre503 from 2 – 25 July. Tickets from £15 (previews until 6 July), £24/£20 (full price). Pay What You Choose – 11 July. See website for details of relaxed performances, Vietnamese Community Night, post-show discussions, and discounted tickets for writers (2+3 July). Book your tickets here.
love you long time (already) moves between reality, dream and afterlife – what drew you to structure the play across those different planes, and what can you explore in the supernatural that you can’t in the everyday?
Tâm, in my play, is the daughter of Vietnamese immigrants. She finds herself having to reckon with inherited patterns, the unfixable relationship between her parents, and how she wants to move forward in her own future. I explored the subconscious through different planes in this play because though she might have little control, she still has to somehow make peace with what feels immovable, for her own sake.
The play sits inside a very specific cultural context: Vietnamese American identity, migration, the weight of the first generation on the second, but it’s also clearly trying to speak to something much broader. How do you hold both of those things at once in the writing?
I try to let the specific cultural contexts inform the characters while balancing the immediate dynamics of family. The relationship between mother and daughter and their devotion to each other came to the forefront as I kept writing and made me investigate the deep ways in which survival and protection, while well intentioned, also might be something to challenge once one is safe to do so.
Mai and Tâm are trying to love each other across a generational and perhaps spiritual divide. Did your understanding of their relationship shift as you drafted and redrafted, or did you know from the beginning whose side you were on?
I always understand my characters better as I redraft. My understanding of the mother and daughter relationship is that these women never truly leave each other because they love each other so deeply. That I’ve always known. But as I keep writing, I wrestle with how that deep bond can disrupt, implode, and heal. I don’t think I’ve ever been on a certain character’s side because there are parts of each character that I hold dearly. There are also parts of characters that I have to imagine for the sake of the story so I try my best to keep it balanced.
You’ve talked about change happening “subconsciously, even imaginatively, when candour isn’t accessible.” Is that something you recognise in your own life, moments where you processed something through writing before you could process it in conversation?
I think writing often leads me to questions that I didn’t know I had, for sure. I do think change can often happen slowly over time, without noticing. Sometimes it’s a lot of small gestures adding up, sometimes it’s several conversations over the course of years, and when we’re lucky, it happens in front of us in real time and we get to say everything we want to say in the moment. I find the latter to be quite rare, in my experience.
This is your UK debut and a world premiere. What does it mean to have this particular play be the one that introduces you to British audiences?
I feel honored! This play is the first play I’ve ever written and I think that UK audiences can bravely dive into the weird, surreal places this play goes to. I get the feeling here that new work is welcomed with open arms and it’s something I admire deeply about the UK theater scene. I’m scared, of course, but nonetheless very appreciative of getting to be in conversation with artists and theatre goers here.
You’re in the second year of your MFA at UCSD and writing on screen as well as for stage. Does working across those forms change how you think about what theatre specifically can do?
I think about versions of this question all the time. There is something about theatre, when the magic all comes together, when everyone’s nervous systems are in some form of sync, there’s a unique collaboration in relationship to the audience that has a different flavor. It’s one I really love. I can get similar but different versions from TV and film, of course, but it’s just a bit different. Not better or worse, but different.