I finally met up with Yuan, seen most recently dissecting corpses as Dr. Evan Zhao on “CSI: NY,” outside of a noisy Coffee Bean. Dressed in an oversized dark denim coat and jeans, and a beanie shielding him from the evening chill, Yuan smoked a cigarette and sipped on a latte. At first glance of this well-built actor, Yuan can seem almost intimidating. He has played a hardened gang leader in the indie film Baby, an undercover Chinese operative chasing Wesley Snipes in The Art Of War, a tough-talking urban thug in Fifty Pills…in other words, I envisioned that he could probably flatten me with a single blow, or even with his piercing gaze. As I apologized profusely for my tardiness, the actor--to my surprise and relief--broke into a warm and inviting smile.

“Hello,” Yuan said in his rich, soothing voice. “Pleased to meet you. I`m Ron Yuan.”

As our interview progressed, I realized that there was no inflated ego to contend with here. There is something genuine in Yuan that strikes you right away: a humbleness that dispels any preconceptions of the Hollywood actor, a certain kind of sincerity that seems to have come from nearly 20 years of struggling to make a name for himself in an industry where decent roles for Asians are few and far in between, only to establish himself as one of one of the most notable character actors in Hollywood today.

Known for his chameleon-like ability in both TV and film roles, Yuan seems to posses an uncanny talent for morphing into characters that seem almost completely different from any of his previous roles. On an episode of CBS` “The Agency” Yuan did double duty playing Ghani, a Muslim cleric suspected of terrorist ties, and Guntar Everwood, a US army sergeant with a thick southern twang. The stark differences between the two characters are both impressive and amusing--especially when Yuan`s Texan sergeant tries to impersonate the calm and composed Ghani. When asked how he prepares for roles almost always so different from himself, Yuan credits character research, and simply putting himself into the zone of the character.

“It`s habitual for me,” he explains, “I feel like I`m already in the zone. Right before I go on, I definitely put myself into the role.” At that very moment, a car`s shrill screech in the nearby busy intersection briefly halted the hustle and bustle of our sidewalk café. Yuan didn`t even bat an eyelid. “It`s to the point that the director and I will be joking around and laughing, and when he says action, I`m ready--boom! I`ve snapped back into it.”

That seemingly innate ability to become his character at any given moment came especially handy when Yuan played the guest role of Dr. Evan Zhao alongside Oscar-nominated actor Gary Sinise on “CSI:NY.” Usually queasy around dead bodies, Yuan hung around coroner`s offices to get into character. “The smell and the sight of human corpses made me really uncomfortable,” Yuan reveals. “So, for this role, I did a bunch of research. I really got into it and made sure this character was the kind of guy who`s seen it all. He`s actually a guy who gets excited by it.”

Yet, Yuan doesn`t attribute his success as a character actor to any special talent, but to his readiness to take risks and accept any challenges in his path. To him, treading far from the beaten path is essential to every actor in the cutthroat industry that is Hollywood. In a world where doors are closed before they`re ever opened, Yuan points out that blazing your own trail is not only essential, it`s the key to survival. “When you have everything working against you,” he says, “you have to be willing to take risks, to be ahead of the game, and continually push yourself beyond what is expected of you.”

Yuan has taken that philosophy to heart, even during his early years as an actor. Hailing from New York, and honing his skills on stage and theater workshops, Yuan`s first career breakthrough came when, at 17, Yuan auditioned and won one of the lead roles in the stage production of Raisin In The Sun, a classic traditionally played by African American actors. Yuan was the first Asian American actor to be cast in that role. Yet, even after achieving that milestone, Yuan describes years of struggling to find his next paycheck, working in restaurants to replenish his waning bank account, and fighting to stay inspired even when the outlook looked hopelessly bleak. Still, the young, struggling actor carried on, despite protests from his Chinese-American parents who encouraged him to “find a real job.” When opportunities ran dry in New York, Yuan made the life-altering decision to move far from family and friends to Hollywood, to pursue opportunities in film.

Now a veteran actor of stage, TV and film, Yuan possesses a philosophy on acting that is both idealistic and realistic. “When you`re first starting out, you have to play the game,” Yuan insists. “It`s not as bad as when I first started out. I had to do certain roles that I hated. But it`s what I did with that role to expand that character beyond the stereotype that first appears on paper. As a young actor, you`re going to have to fight your battles.

“At first, the only offers I`d get were commercial gigs, but I`d pass those up because people were telling that if I did commercials I was a sell out,” Yuan continued. “But I needed to get my foot in the door. What I can tell young actors, especially young Asian actors, is that when you find a role, own it. It becomes yours to create. Keep working on your craft, no matter what you do.”

For Yuan, the risks were worth it for a career that is essentially a risk in itself. He has emerged in the forefront of Asian American actors in Hollywood, and continues to strive to stay creative and inspired. For the future, Yuan has set his sights on directing and screenwriting--he`s already made a few of his own experimental short films. Yet, Yuan impresses not only as a talented actor, but as a truly genuine human being--a rare find in image-conscious Hollywood.