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New York Times
25-04-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
Patrick Adiarte, Actor Seen in Musicals and on ‘M*A*S*H,' Dies at 82
Patrick Adiarte, who was imprisoned as a baby in the Philippines during World War II and then found a new life in the United States as an actor and dancer on Broadway, in Hollywood and on television, died on April 10 in Los Angeles. He was 82. The cause of death, in a hospital, was complications of pneumonia, said Stephanie Hogan, his niece. Mr. Adiarte had a varied career, in which he played many characters, of various ethnicities, before he was cast in the first season of 'M*A*S*H' as Ho-Jon, the Korean helper of the wisecracking doctors Hawkeye Pierce (Alan Alda) and Trapper John (Wayne Rogers). As a child, Patrick portrayed one of the children of the king of Siam (now Thailand), who are tutored by a widowed schoolmistress in the original 1951 Broadway production of the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical 'The King and I.' As a teenager, he played an assimilated Chinese American character in another of their shows, 'Flower Drum Song' (1958). He also appeared in the movie versions of both shows, in 1956 and 1961. In the 1960s and early '70s, he was seen on several TV series. On 'Bonanza,' he played a Native American named Swift Eagle; on 'Ironside,' he was a Samoan boxer; on 'CBS Playhouse,' he was a Viet Cong guerrilla. He played a Hawaiian tour guide in two episodes of 'The Brady Bunch,' filmed in Hawaii. In 'High Time,' a 1960 film directed by Blake Edwards, he played an Indian exchange student who rooms with Bing Crosby, whose character returns to college in his 50s. Mr. Adiarte also appeared frequently as a dancer on the musical variety show 'Hullabaloo' from 1965 to 1966. He told The Associated Press in 1965 that the most difficult dances for him to learn were the Watusi and the swim. 'Sometimes it takes me as long as four or five weeks to pick up something that is really simple for the untrained,' he said. He also had a brief career as a singer. He recorded a single, 'Five Different Girls,' in 1966, and sang it on the show. One newspaper headline called him the 'Hullabalooest Hullabalooer.' In 1972, Mr. Adiarte appeared as the orphaned Ho-Jon on 'M*A*S*H,' first in the pilot and then in six more episodes. Ho-Jon figured prominently in the pilot, in which Hawkeye and Trapper raise money to send him to medical school in the United States. In another episode, Ho-Jon confesses to stealing valuables to sell so that he can bribe border guards to let him bring the rest of his family out of North Korea. After the 11th episode, the character was gone, without explanation. 'Ho-Jon is one of those characters that 'M*A*S*H' fans remember quite fondly,' Ryan Patrick, one of the hosts of the podcast 'M*A*S*H Matters,' said in an email. 'Many 'M*A*S*H' fans simply assume that Ho-Jon traveled to the States to live with Hawkeye's father while going to medical school.' After 'M*A*S*H,' Mr. Adiarte's career focus changed. He worked as a choreographer of several productions of a musical revue, 'Starting Here, Starting Now,' and as a dance teacher at Santa Monica College from 1985 to 1997. Patrick Napoleon Adiarte was born on Aug. 2, 1942, in Manila. His mother, Purita (Rodriguez) Adiarte, was an actress and dancer, and his father, Isidro Adiarte, was a captain attached to the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. In February 1945, Patrick, his mother and his sister, Irene, were imprisoned on the island of Cebu. When Allied forces fought to reoccupy the island, the Japanese set fire to the prison compound and threw grenades that caused severe burns to Irene and lesser wounds to Patrick as the family tried to escape, according to a report by a U.S. congressional committee. In March, his father was captured and put to death. Patrick, his mother and his sister immigrated to the United States in 1946 and settled in New York City, where Irene underwent surgery on her face. The family was at risk of being deported for overstaying their allotted time as visitors. But in 1956, the U.S. Senate passed a bill, written by John F. Kennedy, Democrat of Massachusetts, that granted citizenship to them and others. Meanwhile, Patrick, who was given dancing lessons by his mother, joined the cast of 'The King and I' on Broadway as a replacement in 1951, earning $85 a week as one of the children of King Mongkut, a role made famous by Yul Brynner. Patrick played the crown prince when the show went on tour, and in the film. 'I sort of grew up from one of the little princes to the role of crown price,' Mr. Adiarte told The Associated Press. 'It took about four years.' In the film version of 'Flower Drum Song,' he wore a baseball uniform and sang and danced to the song 'The Other Generation' with two other young actors. During the Broadway run of the musical, Mr. Adiarte promoted it by performing a tap dance with its director, Gene Kelly, on 'Omnibus,' a cultural TV series on NBC, in late 1958. 'Patrick is a mighty fine dancer,' Mr. Kelly said before he and Mr. Adiarte demonstrated old and modern styles of tap. 'If there's going to be another Fred Astaire, I think it might as well, might well be Pat.' In addition to Ms. Hogan, Mr. Adiarte is survived by his companion, Shirley Kong, and a nephew, Mike DeVito. His marriage to Loni Ackerman, a singer and actress, ended in divorce.
The Guardian
08-04-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
The creators of The White Lotus tried to avoid stereotypes of Thailand. They didn't succeed
One of the first things I noticed when I sat down to watch the eagerly awaited third series of The White Lotus was the birdsong. The distinctive call of two species peculiar to Thailand – the coucal and the Asian koel – conjure up precisely how it feels to be there, in the midst of a tropical soundscape. Then there are the exquisite opening credits, which plunge the viewer into a visceral experience of the Thai cultural environment: based on reimagined traditional Buddhist temple painting, the key protagonists are 'Thai-ified' as they merge into the mural motifs. The expertise of an array of famous Thai actors, pop stars, fashion models and celebrities – along with the somewhat heavy hand of the Tourism Authority of Thailand – have helped this series achieve a cultural authenticity like no other previous western drama set in Thailand. Things have certainly come a long way since British governess Anna Leonowens (played by Deborah Kerr) waltzed gaily around the royal palace of Yul Brynner's shiny-headed King Mongkut in the 1956 hit musical, based on the Rodgers and Hammerstein stage production, The King and I (perhaps unsurprisingly banned in Thailand for its derogatory portrayal of a highly revered monarch). Gone too are the crass depictions of Bangkok from the 2011 comedy The Hangover Part II; or the classic Lord of the Flies-style narrative that is explored in Danny Boyle's 2000 adventure The Beach. In both these cases, the ill-fated western tourist faces crude symbols of the dangers posed by the tropics – from predatory sharks to kleptomaniacal monkeys and gun-toting cannabis farmers. In this persistent cinematic stereotype of south-east Asia, the intensity of the alien environment seizes hold of and contaminates the vulnerable and disoriented Christian western self – to comic, threatening or enlightening effect. The tenacity of this characterisation owes much to Francis Ford Coppola's Apocalypse Now (1979), of which he famously claimed: 'My film is not about Vietnam. My film is Vietnam.' What Coppola really meant was that Apocalypse Now encapsulated the American experience of the Vietnam war – it features few Vietnamese characters, even less dialogue in Vietnamese language, and was filmed almost entirely in the Philippines. Despite the best efforts of The White Lotus to counter the cultural ignorance of these popular movies, the series fails to fully escape the grip of the exoticising stereotype. The representation of Thailand is restricted by two key limitations. The first lies in the west's inability to move beyond our own, Christian-influenced cultural position to wholeheartedly engage with another culture, while still finding it accessible and entertaining. The character of Victoria Ratliff provides the most overblown example of this, protesting in her fantastic Southern drawl at her daughter Piper's plans to remain in Thailand. When Piper explains her desire to 'meditate and immerse myself so that I can really understand Buddhism and develop my spirituality,' Victoria's response encapsulates the cultural and religious dissonance: 'You're not a Boooodist – honey you're not from China. You can be interested in this stuff, but you can never really be it. We're from an entirely different world.' The second is the way in which Thailand has learned to tailor its forms of self-representation to western tastes. Early in the series, Thai pop group Carabao's classic song Made in Thailand plays, but lost on the non-native speaker is the poignancy of the lyrics: 'Our proud and ancient land, with all that is good, and where Thais love Thais.' This was written way back in 1984 to remind Thai listeners of their glorious cultural heritage, and of never having been colonised by the west, despite the Thai tendency to 'sell out' to western markets. Apposite indeed for The White Lotus narrative that ensues. Siam, as it then was, resisted the worst vagaries of foreign aggrandisement by appealing to the aggressor as being 'civilised' in the eyes of the west. The King and I reveals this endeavour through Mongkut's anxiety to have his children learn English, and by Anna teaching the monarch to use a knife and fork. This sense of attending to the desires of western visitors is central to the White Lotus and its depiction of Thailand's luxury tourism industry. The Thai characters we meet at the White Lotus are embedded in this industry, and are largely seen in uniform and at work (although the depiction of the courtship between Gaitok and Mook is one of the most refreshingly authentic subplots). They reflect back to the foreign visitor what is both palatable and marketable. One element of Thai culture that has remained persistently resistant to western pressure, however, is that of the national religion of Buddhism. The White Lotus makes an admirable stab at exploring how some of the key tenets of Theravada Buddhism might offer spiritual awakening to some of its most psychologically troubled characters – Tim Ratliff, Rick Hatchett and his long-term friend, Frank – as well as its more spiritually inquisitive ones – Piper Ratliff and her younger brother Lochlan. Rick's journey is a particularly emotional one, as we see him face down his inner demons in the encounter with his nemesis, Jim Hollinger. But as Frank falls off the wagon in wild post-showdown celebrations befitting One Night in Bangkok (the script references the 1984 song's lyrics), we see Rick in turn rising above the enticement of debauchery, like the Buddha at the point of enlightenment defeating the temptations sent by Mara (Evil). Sadly, Rick's release from the karmic cycle of suffering is short-lived. As the words of the venerated Buddhist abbot Luang Por Thera remind us at the opening of the final episode – there is no resolution. Even the Buddhist possibility of nonviolence evades the gentlest of characters, as Gaitok obeys instructions, shoots to kill, and wins the respect of his girl. Despite its exploration of Asian spiritualism, and following in the footsteps of Apocalypse Now, the closing episode of The White Lotus falls back into the stereotype of offering an essentially Christian resolution to the surviving characters of the third series. Piper loses her desire for Buddhist austerity, Lochlan awakes like a resurrected Christ from a near-death experience having seen the face of God, and the united family leaves the shores of Thailand, set for an all-American homecoming to the sound of Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming, those coucals and koels replaced by a Christian carol. The complexity of our longstanding stereotypes of Thailand is that the country stands in the western imagination as both a site of magical eastern spirituality and also a locale for sin, sex and drugs. This stranglehold on the western ability to openly embrace and engage with the rich complexities of Thai culture, coupled with Thailand's complicity in representing itself in compliance with western tastes, lies at the crux of The White Lotus's inevitable limitations. Rachel Harrison is professor of Thai cultural studies at Soas University of London
New York Times
21-02-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
‘Impossible / It's Possible' Became Their Anthem
'Impossible, impossible,' were the two words Emily Ruth Giske suddenly sang to Jennifer Pollack Percival over the phone in February 2022. 'I was so happy I broke into song,' said Ms. Giske, who was ecstatic when Dr. Percival then joined in with the rest of the lyrics to that Rodgers and Hammerstein song 'Impossible / It's Possible' from 'Cinderella.' (Dr. Percival soon learned Ms. Giske had a hearty repertoire of show tunes, '70s hits and made-up songs.) The two had met five weeks earlier on after Ms. Giske, 64, switched her app's location from New York, where she lived, to Aventura, Fla., while on vacation with her now 7-year-old child. 'Emily popped up,' said Dr. Percival, 45, who lives in Boca Raton, after she specifically did a search for a woman with a master's degree who was also Jewish. Until then, although each dated casually, they had pretty much given up on long-term love — Dr. Percival's previous two marriages ended in divorce, as did Ms. Giske's previous one. 'We've been very successful in life and less successful in love,' said Dr. Percival, who, like Ms. Giske, focused on being the 'best mom' she could be and a career 'to make the world a better place.' Dr. Percival, who has two children, ages 22 and 17, and a tabby cat, is the director of Florida Atlantic University's Center for Autism & Related Disabilities in Boca Raton. She received a master's in counselor education and a doctorate in educational leadership and research methodology from the university. She grew up in Chicago and graduated with a bachelor's in psychology from Earlham College in Richmond, Ind. Ms. Giske, who grew up in Bayside, Queens, graduated with a bachelor's in public policy from George Washington University, and a master's in urban affairs and policy analysis from the New School. She is a managing partner at Bolton-St. Johns, a government relations and public affairs consulting firm. As a lead lobbyist for L.G.B.T.Q. rights coalitions, she was instrumental in the passage of New York's Marriage Equality Act in 2011. To prove they were who they said, they 'publication verified' each other, as Dr. Percival put it. She sent Ms. Giske a review of one of her three books on autism. Ms Giske sent her a link to a New York Times article from a week before that had quoted her and described her as a 'prominent lobbyist.' 'I had learned it's not good to drag these things out,' said Ms. Giske of the exchange, and within 20 minutes set up a lunch date at Latitudes, a restaurant in Highland Beach, Fla. Two days later, when Ms. Giske arrived at their table overlooking the crystal blue ocean, Dr. Percival could not hold back. 'You really transformed yourself,' Dr. Percival said. She was taken by changes in Ms. Giske's look and style from online photos, including dropping 130 pounds intentionally during Covid. [Click here to binge read this week's featured couples.] 'She and I really got each other,' Ms. Giske said, and neither noticed their 20-year age difference. Ms. Giske asked her on a second date before the first one ended. Two days later, after lunch at Sadelle's restaurant at the Boca Raton hotel, they parted, jubilantly, with a kiss. 'I went 'whoo,' and she saw me skip away,' said Ms. Giske, who stayed another week, after Dr. Percival told her she had time to see her again. They saw each other a half dozen times during Ms. Giske's stay, and then began dating long distance. 'You know we're a couple,' Dr. Percival told Ms. Giske after six weeks. That May, Dr. Percival flew to New York for Memorial Day weekend, and went from one gathering to another, meeting more than 100 of Ms. Giske's friends and family members. 'One thing about Jennifer she is fearless,' said Ms. Giske, who lives in East Hampton, N.Y., with an apartment in Manhattan's Chelsea neighborhood. In June and July, they took trips to Provincetown, Mass., Dublin, Amsterdam, London, Montreal and Chicago. Most of all, they love Disney parks or cruises, where their children also got a chance to spend time together. 'We love to be in the magical Disney bubble,' Dr. Percival said. This past New Year's Eve, Ms. Giske proposed during a cruise on the Disney Treasure as they had brunch at Palo, a restaurant with 360-degree views of the ocean. On Feb. 7, Rabbi Sharon Kleinbaum, a senior rabbi emerita at Congregation Beit Simchat Torah in Manhattan, officiated at an intimate ceremony at the Pierre Hotel, where Dr. Percival's maternal grandparents were married in 1946. The couple stood under a huppah in a hotel suite, where they stepped on a glass together, before a videographer, photographer and witness. During her vows Ms. Giske, true to form, broke into song, singing 'Ten Minutes Ago,' from 'Cinderella' a cappella under the huppah. After they danced for a moment, she happily ended with: 'I have found you, you're my angel.'
