It’s time to make all white fiction superheroes black
For many South Africans, actor B.A. Baracas was one of the first black heroes they got to see saving the day.
He played a great part in making Mr T one of the biggest stars of his time, even after The A-Team ended. He is still recognisable to young audiences as a meme and has even wormed his way into SA’s version of insult jokes (the rude ones among us will know).
The universal appeal of heroes – whether we see them in comic books or in cinematic multiverses – is that they have the power to inspire.
They become a blown-up, stronger and more capable version of ourselves who can encourage us to make the kinds of changes others might be afraid to do.
It’s in the stories that we read or watch about them. For one, at a very small scale, B.A. was aspirational to look up to as an unstoppable force who could also be tender with a number of the people he helped. Characters like Batman and the issues they overcome often reflect how we can also rise above our fears.
The world of characters like B.A. or Batman often resonates with society’s ignored people, those who don’t feel big and strong but often feel ignored. Which is why, in a world that has been dominated by TV shows like The Big Bang Theory, House or Rick and Morty, being a nerd became cool.
Being invested in the content of fictionalised characters that have gone from literature to cinema has finally been cool enough to result in commodities like the Marvel movie empire.
In as much as these worlds are made to carry stories of hope and belonging, they can harbour the most vicious fans – specifically the men. This week, black British actor Ncuti Gatwa was announced as the next Doctor Who. A sci-fi version of James Bond if you will.
However, he was met with a predictable amount of backlash as fans lost their minds that a black person would take on the role. While stories of heroes of all shapes and sizes are meant to create a sense of belonging, all they’ve done is become untransformed entities with very little diversity.
The issue of race in these genres has often resulted in conversations on blackwashing – a term that refers to marketing companies or media entities diversifying its casting or image of black people. This term, which honestly has no merit, reflects the fear of non-black fans who have been shamed in the past for having an interest in this content.
Instead of embracing this change, their pushback of diverse groups who join their ranks sees them embody their oppressors by bullying black people out of it. Remember the aversion many had when the talented John Boyega played a leading character in the new Star Wars trilogy.
Part of the critique against Halle Berry’s 2004 flop, Catwoman, was also charged by fans disliking her as a black casting choice. Especially with many holding onto the image of Michelle Pfeifer, a white actress who played the character more than 10 years prior.
In 2014, these groups were also responsible for Gamergate, which saw white male gaming fanatics commit a number of crimes that resulted in multiple women’s lives being destroyed.
Living in a time where what you watch is attached to your personality, these fans who predate the great big boom and interest in content that is probably best enjoyed by children has become reason to gatekeep the space.
While it would be fruitful to give us black original stories, perhaps ending the dominant white characters in fictional spaces like Doctor Who would start forcing people to change the way they view diversity in the world of superheroes.