Cast as Dorothy in "The Wizard of Oz," an Asian-American performer begins to sing the show's big number, "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." But as soon as she launches into what should be her glorious turn, some uninvited other characters start to ambush her onstage.

There's the hunched peasant, looking up with her mouth half open and offering a bowl of rice. There's the geisha-style prostitute suggestively licking her tongue and offering come-hithers. And there's a sneaky, murderous woman with a big, raised knife, her figure casting a huge shadow.

Dorothy (Rose Le Tran) remains cool in her big moment. She takes a knife of her own and slays all the stereotypes of Asian-American women. Valiantly, she then completes the song.

The scene is the climax of "Asiamnesia," Sun Mee Chomet's funny and felicitous one-act that premiered over the weekend under director Randy Reyes at the Playwrights' Center. Chomet, who also acts in the playlet, has written a wryly funny look at the prism that imprisons Asian-American performers. Hers is not the first take on the subject of constricting stereotypes. There are images of other ethnic minorities that easily spring to mind if you do quick word associations with the average Joe.

And yet what makes "Asiamnesia" so interesting is its brash, irreverent take on the subject. It could have been a droning study of victimhood. The premise is that an Asian-American actor has been cast to play the first Asian woman in America, brought for display by circus impresario P.T. Barnum. The character has no lines, which is a big disappointment to some historical figures gathered for a reunion to give the young actor advice.

"Asiamnesia" has fun with the subject, including a cattle-call casting bit that recalls scenes from Robert Townsend's "Hollywood Shuffle." The show also references "Top Girls" and "Hamlet," among others.

Still, it is a work in progress, and could be tweaked structurally. The show also has an unexpected tonal shift with a modern dance number that seems scrutable.

"Asiamnesia" is paired with May Lee Yang's "Sia(b)" in an evening called "Under the Porcelain Mask: Asian American Women Speak Out." At the outset, Yang, who also acts in the piece, tells us that this is not a piece explaining the Hmong.

But she protests too much. It does reflect on Hmong culture, albeit not in the usual ethnographic way. In Hmong, "Sia(b)" means both liver and heart. We learn about not just the two dialects of Hmong -- green and white -- but also the Hmong equivalent of a horny woman ("itchy vagina").

The show is an impressionistic jumble with spunk and attitude based in the playwright's painful and humorous autobiography. That itself is new enough, another story in the colorful fabric that is America.

Rohan Preston • 612-673-4390