“I have two moves,” says Michelle Yeoh. She puts her glass of wine down to demonstrate the stunts that have become her trademark over the last three decades she’s spent kicking ass. The actress, who first carved out her career as the reigning heroine of ‘80s Hong Kong martial arts movies, is a rarity in Hollywood: a female action movie star known not just for her looks, but for her stunning physical prowess. Watching Yeoh move is like falling prey to a beautiful, deadly beast—you marvel at her tiger-like grace as she flies through the air, then you’re dead before you realize you’ve actually been slayed by a goddamn dragon. (She'll explain that distinction later).

“One move goes like this… across their head—boom!” Her hand slices past my neck like a knife before I can blink. “The other one...” she continues, leaning forward as her perfectly blown-out hair spools over the shoulder of her tuxedo blazer. “I hold him, bring him down, and hit him over the head with my leg.” Flicking her arm, she mimics how her foot would pinwheel from behind with Chinese acrobat-level flexibility. “The scorpion kick,” she adds, reaching for her glass to take another sip, eyes twinkling.

Yeoh is sitting on a late-June afternoon in the lobby of Milk Studios—a photo studio complex in Los Angeles so chic you’d half-expect a pool party on the roof—to promote Crazy Rich Asians, the first Hollywood studio production with an all-Asian cast since 1993’s Joy Luck Club. It marks the first time most Asian-Americans under 25 are seeing themselves reflected on screen, not just as stereotypes or sidekicks, but as complex characters with compelling stories (and hot Asian boyfriends).

It may seem strange to compare a rom-com like Crazy Rich Asians to Get Out or Black Panther, but these films are successful litmus tests for the commercial viability of representation in Hollywood. Transposing the classic “meet my insane parents” storyline into Asia’s newly-minted luxury class, Crazy Rich is told from the perspective of an Asian American (a New York City professor played by Constance Wu) navigating the late-capitalism-meets-Confucianism codes of Singapore’s hoity-toity. Yeoh plays the domineering villain as the protective mother of Wu’s main squeeze, the perfectly chiseled Henry Golding—and honestly, she steals the show.

Jace Lumley

In order to understand Yeoh’s commanding presence, you have to first understand that she is one of the most physically gifted actresses alive. “It's how she holds herself,” says Golding. “When you've trained your body so much, you know your muscles, your stance. She poises herself like a dancer—lithe and sort of ethereal—and that translates into elegance on screen.” There’s something fascinating about an actress who has made her name not through sex appeal, but the way she moves, punches, and scorpion kicks. Hollywood rarely allows women to be powerful like this. To be taken seriously, they must be EMOTIONAL and FRAGILE. Instead, Yeoh is STRONG and PLACID and GOOD AT BEATING PEOPLE UP.

Yet there is also a sense that, despite being one of the most accomplished actresses in Asia, Yeoh’s always been slightly underrated in the West. When I told American friends I was writing this story, I wasn’t surprised that many were like, “Who?” It’s a symptom of Hollywood’s lingering reluctance to cast Asian women in leading roles; beyond Lucy Liu, Margaret Cho, and perhaps a handful of others, how many Asian actresses in Hollywood can you think of? Crazy Rich Asians director Jon M. Chu puts it more bluntly: “She should have much more recognition. She should be on the same level with a Meryl Streep.”