Source: Grantland, July 11, 2012
This is K-Town, or as it's perhaps more commonly referred to, "The Asian Jersey Shore." You may or may not have heard of it, but if you cared at all about it when news of its potential existence surfaced back in 2010, it's probably all flooding back now: the Weekend Update cheap shots (the culmination of a steady, thoroughly accidental hype amplification that started with the blog Angry Asian Man stumbling across the Craigslist casting call), the semi-homemade, "Tikk Tokk"–parodying sizzle reel, the eye-popping photos of former cast member and porn star Peter Le. Yes, that's right, K-Town has been a supposed thing long enough to have already cycled through two cast members (Le and actress Jennifer Field have both been replaced since the show was first announced). It's achieved an odd sort of buzz that has come and gone prior to the show actually taking any form at all.
K-Town, like Jersey Shore, centers around a cast of eight tanned, muscled, bleached, and yes, animated (mostly) twentysomethings. Cha is the oldest at 31, and considers himself the leader of the group. "All that kid drama I'm not really into," he tells me (minutes later, I would see him having a very real — and very dramatic — argument with his girlfriend, who prefers not to appear on the show.) Steve was the one I pegged as The Ronnie back when those first cast photos popped up, minus the propensity for punching things. Violet is the boy magnet, and apparently, the drama magnet: Mike Le tells me that the addition of her Benz-driving ex-boyfriend Jowe to the cast was done without her knowledge or approval after Peter Le left the show. ("He surprised her," Mike said with unmasked glee as we watched the catfight unfold.) Jasmine Chang, the bleached blonde, statuesque hairstylist, is probably the funniest and most self-aware of the bunch. In one of the many cast blogs that have been released to the channel leading up to the show's premiere, she spends most of her time trying to slow down the trailer enough to catch her two seconds of screen time. Cammy Chung is a bartender and another relatively recent addition, but I don't see much of her as she's working tonight.
It's almost midnight, and I'm ready to call it a night. K-Towners often boast about the late hour at which the real party starts here (made possible through privately owned clubs and after-hours karaoke spots that don't necessarily adhere to closing time), but the cast has been posted up here since their 4 p.m. call time and now, with about four more hours left in the booze-fueled shooting day, they're a little worse for the wear. ("Honestly, my tolerance for alcohol has definitely gone up in the last two years," Scarlet tells me.)