Represent Me

I’m throwing caution to the wind today to talk about a potentially thorny subject. It’s arguably always been relevant, but it seems to have been especially relevant in recent months. Between the Ghost in the Shell and Death Note films and the constant criticisms of virtually everything on TV, I think it’s about time we all had a rational, reasonable, intelligent conversation about representation.

Representation is such a tricky topic to address, primarily because it’s sort of a catch-all term for a number of different specific desired results. What it boils down to is that audiences want to be able to relate to characters that are like themselves. They want racial representation, gender and sexuality representation, occupational representation, socio-economic representation. It took me a long time to understand this concept because, as a child, I was always satisfied with characters that behaved like me. I came to realize, eventually, that it’s primarily based on whatever our main self-identifier is at that point in our lives. When I was young, I was “smart,” so I identified with smart characters regardless of age, race, or gender. Now, my primary identifier is “passionate,” so I tend to gravitate towards romantics, geeks, and any other character that displays borderline obsessive tendencies. But these are still behavioral traits, not physical ones. I’ve never identified myself by my race or gender first, so it took me a while to understand that some people do.

So if your primary personal identifier is that you’re black, obviously you’re going to want black characters to relate to. And that’s been a major complaint in a lot of television lately, especially The Walking Dead: the black characters keep getting killed off. There’s the Bechdel test for the minimum “not sexist” representation of women. People aren’t satisfied with the level of representation they’re seeing, and most of their complaints are justified.

But it’s not always as cut and dry as people like to try and make it out to be. To continue using myself as an example, I’m Hispanic/Latina, but I don’t look it. I look pretty much like every other white girl. If I were to play a Hispanic character in a film, I guarantee the casting department would get hate mail for “whitewashing” the role. But they haven’t. Or have they? Is heritage enough, or is race only skin-deep? I once read a story a girl told online where she, being half Indian and having spent many a summer vacation with her family in India, volunteered to head her school’s Indian cultural heritage festival. However, the faculty advisor for the event said it might make people uncomfortable for a “white girl” to be running the event. The girl, like me, took more after her white parent in appearance, and so everyone assumed she must be white. It’s a delicate balance between offending certain people on one side and offending different people on the other.

Even if the stars align and you can find an actor “of color,” so to speak, there’s still the character to think about as well. Well-rounded characters have both virtues and faults, but sometimes it can seem like a minority character is more fault than virtue simply because there are too few characters of that particular minority. And that’s not even taking stereotypes into account. The Asian is always the villain, the black guy is always a thug, the gay guy is always the leading lady’s sassy best friend. The presence of the character isn’t enough; it’s also important that it’s a compelling, non-stereotypical character.

But believe it or not, that’s a tall order in Hollywood, and it’s not because they’re all racist homophobic misogynists. Consider the dilemma for the casting directors. They have to meet all these demands, but is it better to cast a black man in a stereotypical role or to give the part to a white man? In the one case, that’s one fewer black character, and “we need more representation.” In the other, that’s one more stereotypical black character, and “we need better representation.” It’s a lose-lose situation, even assuming any minority actors audition or are available to take the role.

It gets more difficult when adapting an existing story. As an actor, there are few greater pleasures than tackling roles that are more difficult, or for which one would not usually be considered, due to a difference of race, gender, etc. Should the actor be faulted for accepting such a role? I say absolutely not. It’s simply ridiculous to judge an actor on that basis, or to imply that he or she is – for instance – racist for taking the part. The joy of the challenge notwithstanding, actors have bills to pay just like the rest of us. If your boss came to you with a task within your ability to complete, would you turn it down simply because your eyes are a different color from those of the person who normally tackles the project? No, you would happily accept for a variety of reasons. If we have to play the blame game, it would arguably be the casting director’s fault over the actor’s. But we’ve already touched on the challenges they face as well.

That’s not to say that there haven’t been films to do it right. Say what you will about The Twilight Saga, but no actor was allowed to play a Quileute character unless he could prove Native American heritage of some flavor. 47 Ronin received a lot of criticism for having a “white” actor play a Japanese character, but Hawaiian Keanu Reeves actually played a character who is half Japanese and half Dutch. A quick glance through the rest of the cast reveals a complete cast of not simply Asian actors, but specifically (as far as I can tell) Japanese ones. But the film doesn’t pass the Bechdel test either, so its other accomplishments suddenly don’t matter.

To be honest, I think we expect entirely too much. There definitely was a time when Hollywood was incredibly discriminatory, but to say that that time has not passed, as many do, is more naive than they claim it is to say that it has. The vast majority of filmmakers are working with what they have available to them, just trying to tell good stories and put food on the table. Don’t get me wrong, there are definitely some bad eggs. But there are bad eggs everywhere, in every industry and walk of life. We really ought to give more credit to the films and people that are doing something right. Are the concerns previously mentioned valid ones? Definitely. But I think it’s more important to celebrate everything done well than to harp on the criticisms. Otherwise, folks are liable to get discouraged. If they went to so much trouble to add diverse characters or accurately represent a culture or please this or that group and all people point out are the negatives, how likely do you think they’ll be to put in that much effort in the future? So let’s celebrate successes in representation and make people more excited to continue portraying diversity.

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