Support diversity in animated films.

Over the past couple of years, major studios have rushed to create renditions of popular stories from generations past, a way to incite millennials with renditions of their favorites and, hopefully, bring their children along for the ride. As they do, efforts to add more diversity have been applauded and criticized alike. Representation in all movies and particularly animated movies – isn’t just a marketing ploy; it’s critical to rewriting a history of whiteness in animated films and contributing to a conscious conversation about where society can grow.

Happy Monday, and welcome back to the Anti-Racism Daily. Each day, we send one email to spark action – and dismantle racism and systemic oppression in the U.S. To support our work, you can donate one-time or monthly on our website, Patreon, Paypal or Venmo @nicoleacardoza.

I’m a child of the 90s, so I was raised in the time of Disney princesses and happily ever afters. Since then, I've become an avid fan of animated storytelling. Much of my perspective on race has come from analyzing its history and how it responds to current events, so I'm excited to share that with you in today's newsletter. To unpack this issue, we touch on whitewashing, blackface, and colorism. If those are unfamiliar terms for you, I recommend referencing the associated articles as you go.

And before I get a million hate mail messages, I’m not asking you to cancel your Disney+ account or give up your favorite film from your youth! Like other other newsletters, it’s an opportunity to think critically, reflect, learn and choose what type of future you wish to invest in.

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Reflect on your favorite animated movie/show. How does it support narratives for equity and inclusion? How does it work against narratives for equity and inclusion?
If you’re a parent: consider diversifying the TV shows and movies that your child watches at home. Search for a new, diverse story to introduce them to.

GET EDUCATED

By Nicole Cardoza (she/her)

Much of the scrutiny around representation is targeted at Disney, who arguably set the standard for feature-length animated films in the U.S. And also because their legacy is rife with racial stereotypes. Historically the principal characters of Disney movies are overwhelmingly white. If people of color are featured, it’s poorly. In the Aristocats, a cat in yellowface plays the piano with chopsticks. In Peter Pan, Native Americans are referred to by the racist slur "redskins" (NYTimes). And in Dumbo, released during the peak of Jim Crow in America, a group of black crows reinforce African American stereotypes of the time (Washington Post). Now, if stream one of these films on Disney+, a disclaimer pops up at the beginning, acknowledging that "these stereotypes were wrong then and are wrong now.” They also link to a website, “Stories Matter,” where users can learn more (BBC).

You’ll notice that many of the characters shared above aren’t even human. And that’s a trend that’s persisted, even as animated films mature. Characters that could be people of color are animals (like Pocahontas and Lion King). If they are human, they tend to spend significant amounts of time as animals. On the surface, this means that we don’t get that melanin screen time many marginalized communities look forward to.

But, as Andrew Tejada notes in his article “Representation Without Transformation: Can Hollywood Stop Changing Cartoon Characters of Color?” it goes beyond what kids see. It often changes the entire story. Instead of being themselves, they spend most of the movie trying to win back their right to be human (tor.com). This means that they don’t spend time navigating their own unique stories, ones that could acknowledge the specific challenges they face and perhaps resonate with viewers. And in a world that historically sees people of color as less-than-human, it feels especially dismissive.

The story of Princess Tiana, the first Black Disney princess from The Frog Princess, is often used as an example of this. Although the story was consciously re-created to depict Southern history and a Black lead, Tiana spent most of the movie as a frog trying to kiss a prince to become human again, which quickly overshadowed her story of trying to start her own business as a young Black woman.

Otherwise, when more diverse characters have been included in animation – whether by race or by size, gender, or sexual orientation – they're usually portrayed as the villains. Their contrast from what’s considered “good” in dominant culture are used as justification to ostracize and, often, inflict violence upon them.

This contrast is primarily created through skin color, relying on our history of colorism to distinguish the character’s role in the narrative. A classic example is the Mongolians and Shan-Yu, their leader, in Mulan. The rest of the humans have light, flesh-toned skin colors, but theirs is much darker – more grey than anything, with yellow eyes. They almost look subhuman, which is intentional. It makes a clear statement of who is considered good v. evil. Meanwhile, colorism is still abundant, particularly in countries throughout Asia (read more on colorism in our previous newsletter). Other examples of colorism in animated series include Scar, Ursula, and Mor’du (from Brave), and this trend extends to live-action films, too.

Beyond skin color, villains are often given other characteristics that are used against marginalized groups. Nearly every villain in Disney films is queercoded, or, given a “series of characteristics that are traditionally associated with queerness, such as more effeminate presentations by male characters or more masculine ones from female characters” (Syfy). Think of Scar v. Simba, Hades v. Hercules, Jafar v. Aladdin, or Ursula (based on a drag queen) v. Ariel. By doing so, the films subconsciously align queerness with evil, and, because they’re often trying to thwart “true love,” threaten heteronormativity and our right to live “happily ever after” (Little White Lies). Villains are also depicted as larger-bodied (like Ursula and John Ratcliffe) or with a physical or intellectual disability (CNN).

None of these depictions themselves are harmful themselves – representation can be neutral or positive – but it’s how it’s wielded that causes the stereotypes to persist. When we always see people from marginalized communities as the villain, we also assume that those from dominant culture are the heroes, which leads us to overlook the harm they can and have, inflicted for centuries. It can also teach kids harmful notions about themselves: “I have darker skin, so I must be a bad person. Maybe that’s why I do bad things, or people don’t seem to like me very much. I deserve to be treated this way”. Or, “people that act this way are bad. It’s my job to treat them poorly. That’s what the good guys do”.

Efforts to diversify these old stories have been criticized by people who are afraid they will “change the story” too much (Washington Post). But do they? To me, these stories don’t accurately depict just marginalized culture, but any particular culture. When it comes to The Little Mermaid, the plot itself doesn’t represent much of any of the mythology mermaids inhabit in countries worldwide. It even strays far from the Hans Christian Anderson tale (Wired). I can understand if someone who strays far from the narrative was cast in a story like The Secret of Kells, set in 9th century Ireland. But for a mermaid? Let’s also remember that white actors are cast for roles designated for people of color all the time.

And of course, diversity has to move beyond what we see. White actors also voice most of the animated characters of color we see in movies and TV shows. This is a more blatant form of whitewashing that’s perhaps easier to get away with because, unlike live-action films, viewers rarely know who the actor is behind the character. (The lead crow in Dumbo is literally named “Jim Crow” and voiced by a white man). Over the past few months, several white voiceover actors have stepped away from roles where they depict people of color (Vox).

Remember that representation internally tends to impact representation externally. And it’s the directors, writers, producers, and animators of color that are pushing the industry forward. Not only are they carving their own path, but ensuring everything from accurate illustrations, dialogue, and backgrounds are creating the right container for our stories to be heard. But they should not carry the burden of re-creating an entire industry or be held responsible for its legacy.

Nevertheless, we’ve come a long way. I was reminded to watch this when I saw a series of trailers for animated stories that seem to depict beautiful, diverse stories eschewing the Disney princess motif with culturally diverse concepts and settings. And I hope we continue to advocate for all narratives to be told – and inspire us with awe and wonder.

KEY TAKEAWAYS

Historically, animated films perpetuated harmful racial stereotypes
More recently, films tend to use colorism and other stereotypes to make villains feel counter-cultural, which enforces dominant culture and how it oppresses
Recently, Disney+ added a disclaimer to its films depicting harmful stereotypes that are now available to stream

RELATED ISSUES

9/15/2020 | End Hollywood whitewashing.

7/17/2020 | Analyze representation in media.

8/6/2020 | Don't do digital blackface.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

Subscribe on Patreon | Give one-time on PayPal | Venmo @nicoleacardoza

ARCHIVES