For Woo, Infamy’s showrunner, finding people to work on the
show who had deep personal connections, like Mio, was of the
utmost importance. “Among our cast and crew, there’s 138 immedi-
ate relatives who were interned,” Woo says. “That’s a lot of people
with a really deep, personal passion to the story. One thing that
we’ve been told a lot by people who lived during the internment is
that they wanted to make sure that this is not just a story of misery,
but also a story of great strength and resilience, about people who
persevered and survived. Having people that lived through it or have
close relatives who did—that’s something that they could give us
that a book just can’t.”
With Infamy being so serious in tone and subject, one might be
surprised to learn that Mio harbors a much more light-hearted tal-
ent: He loves to perform stand-up comedy. He only started three
years ago, but his YouTube channel is filled with videos of him doing
impressions of political figures and pop culture icons like Wendy
Williams, Keanu Reeves (Mio can do a wicked “Whoa”) and the com-
mander-in-chief himself. One of Mio’s most well-known bits is his
riff on how he used to wish he was Italian. “Any other Asian men wish
they were Italian?” Mio asked at Hollywood’s Laugh Factory last
year. “I grew up on Goodfellas, The Godfather, Pacino, De Niro. Very
machismo guys. Who’d I have to look up to? Mr. f-ckin’ Miyagi!”
Although it might seem odd for a comedian to be breaking into
drama, Mio doesn’t want to back himself into any corners career-
wise. Plus, he doesn’t see horror and comedy as being that different
from one another. They’re both about trying to get a rise out of the
audience. “Comedy and horror are very similar in that they both rely
on a set up and a payoff to build up suspense, like the set up for a joke
with a punchline,” Mio says. “A lot of times Hollywood wants to put
you in a box and only see you in a certain way, like you can only do
one thing. But, I mean, a lot of the greatest actors started in comedy
and went on to do drama.”
As for Woo and the show’s other shot callers, there was no hesi-
tation when it came to hiring Mio despite his comedy background.
And if you’re wondering if he cracked jokes on set, he did not. “I
would have loved for him to tell a joke!” Woo says with a laugh. “He
took the job very seriously. But there was never any doubt whether
he could do it or not. He showed that he could. We read him many,
many times. He proved that he was the choice.”
FE ATU RE
CODE SWITCH Mio’s ma-
ternal grandfather was sent
to Japan to monitor kabuki
scripts for anti-American
messages. Photo courtesy of
Derek Mio.
Although this is his first lead role, Mio got his first taste of perform-
ing for an audience as a kid. He grew up in the surf city of Huntington
Beach, in Orange County, a suburb known for its mild weather and
big waves. He spent most of his free time playing basketball for the
Japanese American league at his local Buddhist temple. In between
practices, Mio would goof off with his friends and do impressions of
their coaches. It was the only type of performance “training” that
Mio ever got as a child.
“When I was young, I always imagined becoming an actor in the
future,” Mio says. “I made my circle of friends laugh a lot, and that
gave me some validation. One time, I gave a speech at our varsity
basketball team banquet at the end of the year, and I did impressions
of our coaching staff, and I killed it. I didn’t think I’d do this for a liv-
ing, but I always felt like I wanted to. And then it happened.”
He’s the first in his family to break into Tinseltown, but he
remembers watching shows like Whose Line Is It Anyway? and Sat-
urday Night Live on weeknights with his mom, who would often
do spot-on impressions of the celebrity performers. Growing up
around the TV set instilled Mio with a certain love and awe for the
Hollywood industry. When it came time to apply to colleges, there
was no hesitation: Mio was going to study film at the University of
Southern California.
After he graduated, Mio spent time picking up odd jobs modeling
and doing commercials around L.A. when his aunt sent him a clip-
ping from Rafu Shimpo, a Japanese American newspaper, about an
open casting call. He nabbed his first film role in Day of Independence,
a 2003 short that focuses on a young Japanese American baseball
pitcher struggling with his identity during the era of Executive
Order 9066.
He recently reconnected and met up with the director, Chris
Tashima. “Day of Independence was really my start,” Mio says. “The
movie ended up going to a festival, and that’s where I met my man-
ager, who got me an agent. I went to Chris’ office, and he had the
posters for the film and my uniform still there with my old headshot.
It was a very emotional moment for me. It’s taken a while, but how
great is it that this terrible story about our ancestors is finally getting
told by a mainstream network?”
The significance of returning to the subject matter that launched
his career and has now landed him his first major television role isn’t
lost on Mio. He described the meeting with Tashima as a “full-circle
moment.” “It truly felt like I had a responsibility to tell this story, and
my ancestors’ story,” Mio says. “I was doing it for them. It felt like
I had them supporting me the whole way. It’s gonna be hard to top
this one.” Hopefully this will be a performance that will haunt Mio’s
career. In a good way, of course. CM