What Maybe Happy Ending Means to Me as a Korean American
Helen J. Shen & Darren Criss in ‘Maybe Happy Ending’ (Photo: Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman)
by Chris Peterson, OnStage Blog Founder
Seeing Maybe Happy Ending on Broadway hit me harder than I expected.
As a Korean American, I am used to entering a Broadway theatre without expecting to see much of myself onstage. I can connect with the characters and enjoy the stories, of course, but there is usually some distance between what I am watching and my own identity.
That distance disappeared with Maybe Happy Ending.
The musical was written by Will Aronson and Hue Park and first premiered in South Korea in 2016. It later received an English-language production at Atlanta’s Alliance Theatre before reaching Broadway. The show is set in a future version of Seoul and follows Oliver and Claire, two outdated helper robots who have been left behind by their owners.
It is a small and gentle story about two lonely characters who find one another. They talk, argue, listen to jazz, travel together and slowly begin to understand what companionship might mean. They also know that their time is limited.
I had followed the show before it came to Broadway, but seeing it in a Broadway theatre felt different. Here was a musical that began in Korea, remained set in Seoul and arrived without trying to disguise where it came from. The production trusted the audience to enter that world without stopping to explain every cultural detail.
That trust meant a great deal to me.
Growing up, I rarely saw Asian characters at the center of musicals. When they appeared, they were often supporting characters, stereotypes or people whose stories revolved entirely around being Asian in a white environment. Their identity was treated as the conflict.
Maybe Happy Ending gives its characters a love story. They are allowed to be funny, awkward, frightened, selfish and hopeful. Their central struggle is the same one that has powered musicals for generations: They want to be loved, and they do not know how much time they have together.
Seeing performers with AAPI roots lead that story on Broadway was overwhelming. So was hearing a score created by Korean and American writers, inside a musical that had been developed and embraced by Korean theatre artists long before Broadway became involved.
I have spent plenty of time deciding how much of my Korean American identity to explain in certain rooms. Sometimes you simplify things because you do not want to confuse anyone. Sometimes you leave details out because explaining them feels exhausting..
I am proud of Will Aronson and Hue Park for creating something so tender. I am proud of the Korean theatre community that supported the musical from its earliest productions. I am also grateful that the Broadway version allowed the story to keep its identity.
I never expected a musical about retired robots to make me feel so seen. Somehow, it did.
For Korean American theatre fans, Maybe Happy Ending offers something we have rarely received on Broadway: the chance to watch a Korean story lead with confidence and simply belong there.
I hope it opens the door for many more.