Patrick Adiarte, a Filipino-born actor and dancer whose work spanned Broadway, Hollywood musicals, and classic American television, has died at the age of 82. His passing was confirmed by family members and reported by major outlets, noting that he died of pneumonia at a Los Angeles-area hospital on April 15, 2025. Known to multiple generations of viewers, Adiarte was one of those performers whose face became familiar over decades even if his name was less widely known. From stage musicals in the 1950s to television in the 1970s, his career reflected both the opportunities and limitations for Asian actors in mid-century American entertainment.
Born on August 2, 1942, in Manila, Philippines, Adiarte’s early life was marked by hardship during World War II when he, his mother Purita, and his sister Irene were imprisoned by Japanese forces; his father, a U.S. Army Corps of Engineers captain, was killed in the same period. The family emigrated to the United States in 1946, settling in New York where he and his mother soon found roles in Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Broadway production of The King and I. As a child performer, he later went on to portray Prince Chulalongkorn in the 1956 film adaptation of The King and I, acting opposite Yul Brynner and Deborah Kerr — a role that proved foundational for his career.
Adiarte’s early success continued with his involvement in another Rodgers and Hammerstein project, the musical Flower Drum Song. He starred in the stage Broadway production before appearing as Wang San in the 1961 film adaptation, demonstrating his capabilities as a dancer, singer, and actor at a time when visibility for Asian performers was limited. Beyond musicals, he appeared in films such as Blake Edwards’ High Time (1960) and the comedy John Goldfarb, Please Come Home! (1965), blending character work with his stage-bred performance skills. While not suggested in every report that he became a leading movie star, his presence in such productions helped embed him in the collective memory of classic cinema audiences.
As American television grew into a dominant cultural force in the 1960s and 1970s, Adiarte made a smooth transition to the small screen. His credits included appearances on popular series such as Bonanza, Hawaii Five-O, Ironside, Kojak, and It Takes a Thief, showing his versatility across drama and action genres. He also guest-starred in two episodes of The Brady Bunch, including a memorable role in the show’s Hawaii episodes where he played a young local guide interacting with the Brady family. For a time he was also featured as a dancer on variety shows such as NBC’s Hullabaloo, further illustrating his multifaceted performance career.
However, the role for which he is most widely remembered was Ho-Jon in the first season of MASH* — the Korean civilian who interacted with Hawkeye Pierce (Alan Alda) and Trapper John McIntyre (Wayne Rogers) at the fictional 4077th Mobile Army Surgical Hospital. While not a lead character, Ho-Jon’s presence grounded the series’ blend of comedy and commentary with a human connection to the Korean people affected by war. Adiarte appeared in seven episodes during the early 1972-73 run of the show, and his depiction brought dignity, warmth, and subtle emotional depth to a narrative often dominated by military and medical humor. MASH* went on to become one of television’s most influential shows, celebrated for its moral nuance and realism, and Adiarte’s contributions to its early emotional texture continue to be remembered by fans of the series.
Adiarte’s passing came at a moment when many of his MASH* contemporaries have also left the public eye, serving as a poignant reminder of a generation of performers who helped shape television history. Tributes from colleagues and co-stars poured in after news of his death, including acknowledgments from MASH* cast members such as Loretta Swit, who publicly mourned the loss of her former co-star and remembered the sense of family among the show’s ensemble Beyond the screen, Adiarte’s career holds broader cultural significance: he was part of an early cohort of Asian performers in American entertainment, working at a time when roles for non-white actors were often constrained by stereotype but still making impactful contributions that resonated with audiences. His longevity, adaptability, and presence across multiple entertainment forms — from stage musicals to episodic television — reflect both personal dedication to his craft and the gradual evolution of on-screen representation.
Remembering Patrick Adiarte is an acknowledgment of both his personal artistic legacy and the subtle ways in which supporting and character actors help anchor enduring films and television shows in cultural memory. While he may never have been a marquee name, his work remains visible through classic productions that continue to be watched, revisited, and appreciated by new generations. His life story — beginning in Manila, shaped by early adversity, and extending into a varied career across stage, screen, and television — stands as a testament to creative resilience, breadth of talent, and the many facets of influence a performer can have beyond lead billing. For audiences who encountered him — whether as Prince Chulalongkorn in The King and I, Wang San in Flower Drum Song, or Ho-Jon in MASH* — his contributions remain part of the fabric of classic American entertainment.