Conceived in 2014 by Park and Aronson, who met studying at NYU, Maybe Happy Ending has been performed in Korea and Japan over the past decade—Park wrote versions both in Korean and English. A 2020 production in Atlanta paved the way to Broadway. Director Michael Arden’s vision of 2060s Seoul is sleek and warm; the set has the rounded pleasantness of an iPhone, set pieces whisking silently on and off like widgets. The softer tone of the production made Shen adjust how she sings. “I’m used to doing roles that have vocal gymnastics or some kind of gimmick,” she says. “I have to trust that doing less is enough.”
Shen is heartened to see other Asian leading ladies on stage this season; Eva Noblezada (The Great Gatsby) and Nicole Scherzinger (Sunset Boulevard) are of Filipina descent. “It’s not one seat at the table, or like you have to elbow each other for it. That’s a very Asian perspective too. ‘There’s one spot, you better get it or else!’” She adds: “Growing up there was some kind of impression that Asian art was not relevant here or something. I feel like we’re at a very exciting time.” Shen describes fellow Michigan alumna Ashley Park as a “beacon of light,” particularly seeing the Korean American actress be nominated for a Tony for Mean Girls in 2018.
Maybe Happy Ending’s arrival on Broadway is perhaps evidence of what Shen calls the “soft power” of Korean culture: a growing interest in its music, fashion, and entertainment. Though a K-pop musical flopped in 2022, this show is less tethered to the genre, with more jazz and big band influences; a Chet Baker–style crooner acts as a kind of Greek chorus. “There’s never going to be one show, one story that feels like it encapsulates the entire diaspora of the Asian experience,” she says.
When Shen isn’t on stage, she likes nothing more than “rotting on the couch,” with a particular proclivity for crime dramas or action movies. She has a newfound respect for the stunts in action movies, given the quick, choreographed set changes that happen behind the scenes of her show. “All of the work that goes into the one second that you see. Our duck feet are paddling but on the surface it’s all calm and magic.”
To unwind from an eight show week—“It is absolutely an endurance battle”—she listens to indie-folk like Regina Spektor or Nick Drake, with a little Chopin thrown in. She still plays piano occasionally, a reminder of the path she didn’t take. Before heading back to the theater for her matinee call, Shen shares a message she got recently from her former piano teacher whose advice she did not heed: “She texted me a couple weeks ago. ‘I have never been more happy to be wrong.’”