From Hollywood to Home: Tracing Yoshi Sudarso’s Paradise
For years, Yoshi Sudarso carved out a career built on hero flicks and high-flying stunts. Now, he’s chasing something quieter—a legacy built on identity, family, and a return to the place he once left behind

He’s the man
The internet has a type, and Yoshi Sudarso checks all the boxes: sharp jawline, action hero build, just the right amount of scruff many other men aspire to grow but tend to shave off at the slightest inconvenience.
He’s the kind of guy who can sell you a protein shake or make you consider hiring a personal trainer. But the man’s never coasted on looks. He can ace a stunt, play lead, and work behind the scenes—a triple threat in the age of algorithm-driven fame.

Born into an Indonesian family with Chinese heritage, Yoshi moved to the United States at just nine years old. Over the years, work brought him back to Indonesia, including a role in the bilingual spaghetti western Buffalo Boys. However, the decision to return more permanently wasn’t an easy one.
“At first, it was the coolest thing ever for me to go back and get to play a cowboy, to get to speak English and Indonesian. But it wasn’t until I landed that I realized just how scary it was. I didn’t speak the language all that well. I didn’t know the culture. I would mess up a lot of things. I didn’t feel confident.”
Breaking the mold, building the community
Yoshi’s career arc reads like an action-packed script in itself. A former cheerleader who studied math before pivoting into stunt work, he first gained pop culture traction as part of the Power Rangers franchise.
Before that, he was the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it Asian guy in Easy A. Of late, he appeared on an episode of The Brothers Sun. Each role, a calculated leap toward something bigger.
Asian actor tropes in Hollywood were once painfully clear: play the weak geek, be the sword-wielding assassin, or steal the show as the funny best friend. But beyond the roles, another invisible script shaped the community—one driven by fierce competition and the pressure to be the best.
“For a long time, especially within the Asian community—particularly Asian men—we were led to believe, ‘You are the best one here, so don’t work with anyone else.’”
Whether born out of instinct to survive or the fruits of tiger parenting, that mindset often did more harm than good. But Yoshi didn’t just play by these rules anymore, he infiltrated the system—and then began to quietly rewire it in his own way.
“It wasn’t until a friend of mine said, ‘Hey, let’s hang out. There’s room for all of us,’ that I realized—why am I not creating space for someone else?”
That shift sparked something. He then started an Instagram group where Asian actors could swap auditions, train together, and advocate for one another—a living, breathing community, if you will. “Like, ‘Oh, Chris, you’d be great for this role,’ or ‘Desmond, you’d be perfect for this.’ That way, we don’t feel isolated.”
He furthers, “I think that was one of the biggest shifts in my career—realizing that we are a community, and we’re not meant to be isolated.” That belief guides how he collaborates.

“I remember one of the words from Chad Stahelski—the John Wick director. He would train us every morning, right? And on Fridays, he’d get more philosophical. He’d be like, ‘I do this. I train you guys, and it’s fun, you know, but I’m here at 4 AM doing this for you guys for free. You’re learning, you’re getting good. Are you doing this for other people? What are you doing for others with what I’ve done for you?’ And I was like, holy moly, you’re right.”
Roots before roles
Relocating with his family wasn’t just a career move—it was a legacy decision.
“My wife asked me, ‘How important is it to you that our children are Indonesian?’ And I said, ‘Very,’ without even thinking. She reminded me that we couldn’t expect them to be Indonesian while growing up in the States. That hit me. It was scary, but she was right.”
The move wasn’t smooth. “The first four months here were very quiet. My manager was working hard, but it was still tough.” But today? “Just this year alone has surpassed my expectations of Indonesia. And I want people to see what I see.”
Where Hollywood often reduces Southeast Asia to rice paddies and gritty alleyways, Yoshi wants to showcase Jakarta’s energy and complexity.

“I was scared to come back because all I had seen of Jakarta was The Raid. And, of course, there’s some truth to certain fears and stereotypes, but man, I want people to see the beauty of Jakarta. The cafés, the night markets, the crazy malls—we even have one with a slide that goes from the top level to the very bottom!”
And he’s doing more than just talking about it—he’s building projects to highlight that very world. “That’s what I want to show. Not just the polished parts, but the nitty-gritty too. The world needs to see the real Jakarta.”
Between takes, between worlds

The move wasn’t just about reconnecting with his roots—it was about helping shape an industry that can hold its own on the world stage.
In the U.S., perfection often comes at a punishing cost. “I remember doing a single oner take that took an entire day, and then the next day, we shot it in pieces. That was two full days for half a scene—on a project with a 150-plus crew. A friend of mine lost his voice because he had to do so much screaming over and over again. People were getting hurt. It got repetitive and exhausting.”
In Indonesia, the pace is faster—sometimes too fast. “You get one take and move on. And I was like, ‘Whoa.’ Because of time and constraints, they don’t have the luxury of multiple takes.”
So where’s the sweet spot? “I think the ideal approach is somewhere in the middle. Maybe we don’t take a full day to do half a scene, but also, maybe we get more than one take—maybe two or three if we really need it. Acting is about reacting, and sometimes, after the first take, new things emerge.”
That bi-coastal industry fluency gives him perspective—and purpose. “There’s a balance to be found.”
The real flex

In Southeast Asia, Yoshi’s got a serious following—and not just for his high-flying stunts or his fitness content. Yes, the action clips get a lot of engagement and the occasional shirtless shot does not hurt, but take a closer look, and you’ll see a guy who shows up: grounded, consistent, and real.
Unlike many actors who keep their personal lives under wraps to maintain a certain image, Yoshi proudly embraces his role as a husband and father.
“They are the reason for my life now. I remember when we had our first child, Silas, thinking, ‘I don’t want to do this for me anymore.’ It used to be all for me. But then it became, ‘Oh, I need to put food on the table for my kids. I want them to be proud of the work that I’m doing.’ And I realized this is for them.”

That level of transparency is rare, particularly in Hollywood, where being a family man can sometimes mean fewer leading man roles.
“I had my first kid, then I played a dad in Bullet Train, and then I continued to play dads in other projects as well—like a husband or whatever. But personally, for me, that was never a problem. I was happy to play these characters. I’m so done playing a high schooler.”
But just because he shares his family’s importance in his life doesn’t mean he reveals everything. “I want to make sure my kids are safe. You can tell I don’t post their faces. That’s something my wife opened my eyes to—giving them the opportunity to decide if they want their faces to be online.”
Paradise, found
Now living a little less than 500 miles south of the equator and always hanging in the pool with his sons, you’d expect Yoshi’s idea of paradise comes with a gorgeous view. But these days, the action star-turned-family man is in search of a different paradise: something more lasting.
“You know, that has constantly changed over the years,” he says. “When I first got into the industry, paradise was ‘making it big’—whatever that meant at the time. I used to think, ‘How do I get to 50,000 followers?’ Then it was, ‘How do I lead a series?’ It was always about reaching that next level. A moving target.”
Success was the fantasy—until it wasn’t.
“And then I got married. And then we had kids. And paradise… shifted.”
Now, paradise is softer. Sleepier. Sweeter. “Hearing my kids outside while I’m working. Wrapping from set early enough to do bedtime—because I love bedtime,” he says with a grin. “Not so much the brushing-their-teeth part. My wife is better at that.”
It’s no longer about the spotlight—it’s about who’s there when it fades.
“Two years ago, when we had our second child Zechariah, we realized that me being gone for months at a time wasn’t the paradise we expected. So now, paradise is swimming with my boys in the morning before work. And that just happens to be in Indonesia.”
Paradise still evolves. It’s been New Zealand. A luxe resort. A quiet dinner in Jakarta. But now, it’s also about what’s next.

“We haven’t had the chance yet, but this year, we’re hoping to explore—maybe Singapore, Malaysia, or the Philippines. We’ve never been to Thailand or Vietnam—not even my wife. So that would be paradise, too.”
As it turns out, paradise for him isn’t a place—it’s a feeling. And for Yoshi Sudarso, that feeling is home.
Photography Hilarius Jason
Creative direction Vince Uy
Chief of Editorial Content Patrick Ty
Fashion Rex Atienza
Grooming and Hair Shabura
Art direction Mike Miguel
Fashion associate Corven Uy
Photography assistant Nandang Isnaini
On location Kyabin Studio
Special thanks Pia Campos of W Talent Management