BD Wong gave up the idea that he could be a leading man long ago, at least in Hollywood. Sure, in the last 30 years, he’s won a slew of awards, starred in several beloved television shows, and returned to the big screen as part of the Jurassic Park franchise. But none of that matters—not even his Tony Award—because he will always be relegated to supporting roles. Basically all Asian actors are.

“I want bigger parts in movies, and I don't want to have to rely on a franchise to bring me back into the movie theater,” he says, seated in a red vinyl restaurant booth only a few minutes away from his current gig, an off-Broadway coming-of-age play about basketball. “I always want more.”

Wong wants you to know that he is grateful, of course. He’s aware the reality of the business is, statistically, “crazy hard.” For every part he gets, there are dozens, sometimes hundreds, of people he was chosen over. But it’s just that people have been asking him questions about diversity his entire career—which means he’s been giving answers for a long time.

You’ve been doing this for three decades. Are things getting… better?

BD Wong Will Never Die Disappearing will get you cast in a top-secret Jurassic Park.

“I can make sense of it all and give you a timeline, but really, it's all the same,” he says in between sips of his iced tea. “There will always be a majority—a majority that has power and can make decisions—and that's not really going to change.” He questions the role of hope, especially in current American politics in order to get things done: “Do we need to feel that there's an end to white privilege in order to work against it?”

He apologizes for sounding cynical. “We’re always going to be the underdog. The tables will never really be turned.” I’m surprised to hear Wong use the word “we.” He might mean Asians, since we're both Chinese. He might mean queer (again, both of us). Regardless, I can't help but feel solidarity with him. Wong has the experience, versatility, a face that never seems to age. If he’s done everything right, and still doesn’t get what he deserves, how much has the entertainment industry really changed?

He’s been lucky in some ways. After his star-making turn as Song Liling in the controversial play M. Butterfly, he returned to Broadway as Linus in You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown and the Reciter in the revival of Pacific Overtures. His “really meaty parts” in television include Father Ray Mukada on Oz, and 230 episodes as FBI psychiatrist Dr. George Huang on Law & Order: SVU. More recently, Wong’s had recurring roles on Gotham and Mr. Robot, the latter of which gave him his first Emmy nomination last year. But too often, he’s typecast as a medical professional: Dr. Stuart Kim (All-American Girl), Dr. Kai Chang (Chicago Hope), Dr. Ren (Stay), Dr. Gabriel Lee (NCIS), and Dr. Wu (Nurse Jackie)—and that’s not even a complete list.

After Wong left SVU, he says he wasn’t hireable for years. He had one rule: "No more psychiatrists." But he broke it for the role of Dr. Jonathan Lee on Jason Isaacs’ show Awake. “I really didn't want to, but it was a great part and it was very different and I was happy to do it. After that, I had a couple of years where I was like”—he taps an invisible mic—“Is this thing on?”

Universal Showtime Networks Inc./Everett Collection

Wong still worries about seeing a lab coat on the rack during a fitting for a new show. In the most recent installations of the Jurassic Park franchise, Wong ditches the white cotton garment for more tailored jackets and suits, but he’s still the same lab-coat character: biotechnologist and geneticist Dr. Henry Wu. Like in the original film, Dr. Wu’s Jurassic World appearances are fairly brief. However, Wong’s made his small part in one of the year’s biggest blockbusters quietly subversive. His character is now an unapologetic, egotistical person, constantly mansplaining the complexity of his research. He might be a scientist, sure, but in many ways he’s the opposite of the Hollywood stereotype of a quiet Asian man who simply follows orders.