Not quite as offensive, from my perspective
For my part, as an Asian-American, no. That is, they're not as—the operative word being "as"—offensive. At least, that's how it seems to me. Blackface has always been more or less derogatory in its conception and execution. Griffith, for instance, could have hired a Chinese actor to play Cheng Huan, and the issues of that portrayal would largely remain as they are. Was it unfair to apply a Chinese character in the mysterious context of an opium-smoking, vaguely nefarious influence on a young, pure, white girl? Compared to the caricatures in Birth of a Nation, the character of Cheng Huan wasn't especially offensive. Indeed, such people undoubtedly existed, and the exploitation wasn't nearly so grotesque as American blackface has always been.
The idea, though, that a Chinese man wasn't suitable to play a Chinese character is a curious one.
Looking at some of the examples you have provided, one might wonder what the actors were thinking. In Benny Hill's case, the answer is somewhat obvious. Christopher Lee and Peter Sellers? They were probably thinking, "Paycheck!" Peter Lorre, as well. But, still, there is some aspect of exploitation in the context of why these films were made, and if they didn't stand on their own merits without the star power, should they have been made at all?
There are plenty of films that shouldn't be made, but find their way onto the screen for the sake of star power. Mike Myers in The Love Guru, for instance. Or Adam Sandler in You Don't Mess With the Zohan. The aforementioned performance by Robert Downey, Jr. in Tropic Thunder, however, is a classic outing—one for the ages, especially as it invokes some of the very issues we are discussing here. C. Thomas Howell as Mark Watson in the 1986 idiot comedy Soul Man is a strange example because, to the one, it addresses issues of black, white, and blackface; to the other, it shouldn't have been made—it's a terrible film. Indeed, James Earl Jones was probably thinking, "Paycheck!" when he agreed to play Professor Banks. Two scenes redeem the film: an ocelot joke, and a late encounter between Watson and Banks when the blackified character confesses. Still, if the world needed this film to facilitate the black-white dialogue, it would be indicative of a deeper problem between people.
ScaryMonster said:
Question is are these portrayals as offensive to Asians as black face is to people of African origin?
For my part, as an Asian-American, no. That is, they're not as—the operative word being "as"—offensive. At least, that's how it seems to me. Blackface has always been more or less derogatory in its conception and execution. Griffith, for instance, could have hired a Chinese actor to play Cheng Huan, and the issues of that portrayal would largely remain as they are. Was it unfair to apply a Chinese character in the mysterious context of an opium-smoking, vaguely nefarious influence on a young, pure, white girl? Compared to the caricatures in Birth of a Nation, the character of Cheng Huan wasn't especially offensive. Indeed, such people undoubtedly existed, and the exploitation wasn't nearly so grotesque as American blackface has always been.
The idea, though, that a Chinese man wasn't suitable to play a Chinese character is a curious one.
Looking at some of the examples you have provided, one might wonder what the actors were thinking. In Benny Hill's case, the answer is somewhat obvious. Christopher Lee and Peter Sellers? They were probably thinking, "Paycheck!" Peter Lorre, as well. But, still, there is some aspect of exploitation in the context of why these films were made, and if they didn't stand on their own merits without the star power, should they have been made at all?
There are plenty of films that shouldn't be made, but find their way onto the screen for the sake of star power. Mike Myers in The Love Guru, for instance. Or Adam Sandler in You Don't Mess With the Zohan. The aforementioned performance by Robert Downey, Jr. in Tropic Thunder, however, is a classic outing—one for the ages, especially as it invokes some of the very issues we are discussing here. C. Thomas Howell as Mark Watson in the 1986 idiot comedy Soul Man is a strange example because, to the one, it addresses issues of black, white, and blackface; to the other, it shouldn't have been made—it's a terrible film. Indeed, James Earl Jones was probably thinking, "Paycheck!" when he agreed to play Professor Banks. Two scenes redeem the film: an ocelot joke, and a late encounter between Watson and Banks when the blackified character confesses. Still, if the world needed this film to facilitate the black-white dialogue, it would be indicative of a deeper problem between people.