Hollywood Inclusivity and African-South Asian Queer Visibility

On the surface, Ncuti Gatwa and Mawaan Rizwan tick the same boxes for all the obvious reasons. They are both British actors of color from immigrant backgrounds who have made major waves in the entertainment industry in the UK and are also openly Queer and Gay respectively. Rwandan-born Scottish Gatwa recently made the headlines when he was cast as the lead in the critically acclaimed series Doctor Who’s 14th season along with its special slated to air at the end of the year, as the first person of African descent to land a leading role in the long-running Sci-fi series.

Gatwa has also been a series regular in the four-season Netflix original series Sex Education, portraying a Gay quirky youth who is on a journey of friendship, love, and self-discovery. Pakistani-born Brit Rizwan, on the other hand, came to the public’s attention after being the face of BBC documentary How Gay is Pakistan, and despite receiving death threats, he has since gone on to star in and produce a new dramedy Juice, which tells the story of a South Asian Gay man determined to be the center of attention in matters love and life, but whose plans are constantly thwarted by a meddlesome family, featuring his actual mother and brother in the cast.

Aside from their crossed paths on Sex Education, for which Rizwan wrote and Gatwa performed, all there seems to be is an industry insider link that joins all actors, writers, producers, and crew members, whether they have worked together or not. But for a large majority of Black and Brown Africans and Asians, all of whom are linked by being part of the English-speaking world, the two actors represent so much more. At the risk of overstating this fact, their admittance into the hallowed annuls of mainstream media is not only an answer to calls for greater diversity, inclusion of, and visibility for gender, sexual, and racial minorities, but is also a visual representation of lives lived out loud and proud, and examples to point to for many who lack the same in their own lives.

Gatwa’s own coming out story speaks to this fact, as he was inspired by a chance encounter with a fellow Rwandan at Manchester Pride who said that up until then, she had never imagined there were other Queer Rwandans. This story is all too common among many Queer individuals in conservative countries across Africa and Asia. The realization of one’s Queerness automatically maroons one on an island of irrefutable difference, since Queerness is not something proudly worn on one’s sleeve. Many go through their formative years under the mistaken notion that they are the only ones harboring these ‘unnatural’ feelings and work hard to suppress them lest they get discovered.

Thanks to the advent of the internet and social media, young Queer individuals in such parts of the world can now discreetly connect to and interact with fellow Queer individuals in their own countries or halfway across the world, diminishing the feeling of loneliness. However, they still run the risk of exposure. In countries where homosexuality is criminalized, especially in Africa, blackmail leading to extortion targeting Queer individuals is not uncommon. Many lose more than just their hard-earned money, with some meeting gruesome ends at the hands of violent homophobic assailants who lure them by posing as love interests.

Diversity, Brought to You by Hollywood?

In recent years, the debate about diversity in the media has been raging, with a report released by management consulting firm McKinsey & Company in 2021 estimating that Hollywood, a megalith in the global television and movie industry, is losing an estimated $10 billion annually, by failing to address systemic racial inequalities that plague the industry. The report also detailed hurdles faced by Black talent in Hollywood, from being “forced to sell stories about personal trauma to get ideas optioned,” to there being fewer career opportunities that come with lower margins of error. After admitting that films with Black leads or co-leads received a quarter less in funding than films with no Black actors, a content executive who spoke on condition of anonymity admitted that when “…looking for Black content, they’re looking for Wakanda or poverty, with no in between.”

The report concluded that the industry in Hollywood needs reform, and some might argue that incremental changes are being seen, not only in Hollywood but major Anglophone countries responsible for the production of much of the content consumed in the English-speaking world. In the early 2000, shows like Will and Grace, Sex and the City, and Queer as Folk opened the door to the representation of gender and sexual minorities. Though the three aforementioned shows featured a lineup of mostly White actors, similar shows that featured more racial diversity, like Noah’s Arch, soon made their mainstream debut. But the telling of Queer stories was just half the battle won.

In 2005, two important releases that continue to split opinion to this day were released. Neo-Western romantic drama film Brokeback Mountain starring the late Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal, both straight men, told the story of two closeted Gay men in 1960s America struggling to keep their passion for each other a secret. Also in the same year, Desperate Housewives actress Felicity Hoffman’s depiction of a pre-op Trans woman in the movie Transamerica (2005), for which she earned an Academy Award nomination and Golden Globe win, was released. The move to cast Hoffman as the lead has since been decried as it later came to light that Hoffman ‘stole’ the role from veteran Trans actress Alexandra Billings. Billings revealed in an interview with Screen Crush that the movie’s writer couldn’t get the picture made with her as the lead.

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Since then, American- and British-produced shows have not only prioritized diversity and inclusion, but mainstream TV shows and movies have centered LGBTQIA+ themes, stories, and performers, lending a voice to otherwise marginalized communities. Pose told the story of Ballroom culture in New York amid the HIV/AIDS pandemic of the 1980s, while depicting well-developed relationships or lack thereof, with characters facing rejection from friends and family while discovering their chosen families. The show set a new benchmark in authentic artistic representation, with characters based on Trans women and Gay men played by Trans and Gay actors.  

With an increasingly large onus placed on content creators and producers to bring the full spectrum of the LGBTQIA+ rainbow into the mainstream silver screen and TV land fold, is it likely that even with the best of intentions, some will remain proverbially out of the cold? The simple answer is yes, for despite broadening the definition of mainstream viewability of a product, much of such a definition is dictated by national and patriotic ideals.

Anglophone TV and movie production powerhouses – Western countries defined as the first world – also fail to acknowledge the sway that their products have on much of the rest of the world, Anglophone or otherwise, despite constant reminders that representation and intersectionality exist beyond the surprisingly limiting definitions of statehood and state-granted rights.

Lupita Nyong’o’s appearance on Black Panther, for instance, was met with much celebration across Africa, as the Mexico-born Kenyan actress embodied the Hollywood hopes of African viewers who, despite not being considered a key demographic, still enthusiastically consume American movies and series. British actor and producer John Boyega’s Nigerian heritage is also a source of pride for many in the African diaspora, as is the African and Asian heritage of many heavyweights in the film and music industry who are considered torchbearers for the African and Asian continents.

Despite their presence, however, leading production houses in the West insist on producing content exclusively tailored for Western audiences, and those who fall outside of this niche bubble – much of the rest of the world – are expected to assimilate to Western narratives, including their own stories. One of the more disappointing legacies of Black Panther is the belief by a large swathe of Western audiences that, far from Wakanda being a fictional place, it is an actual country or region that is part of the African diaspora.

The Proof is in the Viewing

In a media-dominated world, fictional characters are potent beyond their entertainment abilities, as they hold the power to suggest new realities. Viewers who identify with fictional characters through their physical characteristics, identities, or character arcs, can imagine a world in which what is portrayed on the screen is also possible in real life. Such effects go beyond those with a personal vested interest in certain characters and spill over into the greater public conscience, planting seeds of possibility.

The TV series 24, for instance, is credited by some for paving the way for the first Black president in US history, when it cast American actor Dennis Haysbert as the first Black TV land American president. It was also one of the first shows to depict a female US president, and likewise partly credited for Hillary Clinton’s popular vote win in the 2016 US Presidential elections. Likewise, as gender and sexual minorities were granted more civil rights like the right to marry and the right to adopt children in much of the West, shows depicting ‘normal’ same-sex couples fought back against harmful stereotypes that cast LGBTQIA+ people are hedonistic, destructive, overly sexual, and disease-infested.

Later on, other shows focused on the complexity of Queer life, as ‘flawed’ characters were humanized, drawing a parallel between their unique struggles and those of the greater heterosexual society, generating increased empathy for gender and sexual minorities. The importance of representation is, surprisingly, demonstrated by the censorship exercised by certain countries like Kenya, Uganda, Nigeria, Ghana, and Tanzania over Queer or Homosexual content.

The media is still largely influential in Africa. In one of the many histories of recorded genocide in the African continent in recent years, including the Rwandan genocide, and the ongoing conflict in Sudan, media personalities on radio and talking heads on TV played a large part in ginning up fears and hatred that led to mass slaughter and war. Likewise, the media is used as a propaganda tool by governments to popularize narratives, either of partisan politics or of politicians’ electability. Religious figures have not been left behind in taking up the media mandate as they use the airwaves to proselytize, and in the case of Uganda, sow seeds of intolerance that have since taken root and produced punitive anti-Gay legislation.

It therefore goes to reason that this same hold over the public by the media can be used to ‘normalize’ the existence of LGBTQIA+ individuals in the greater global society. However, in cases where the “homosexuals in television” are not White but Black and claim direct African ancestry as recent emigrants, it becomes that much harder to deny their existence and even more to cling to the idea that homosexuality is a Western concept. As is the case with Gatwe’s encounter with a fellow Rwandan who believed herself the only Queer individual, large masses of people in Africa and Asia believe that Queer people either do not exist, or do not exist amongst them, and experiencing them in the media would be a ‘soft launch’ of sorts to ease the notion of their existence and normalcy for such people.

Also, as an emerging class of Queer African writers like South African Siya Khumalo emerge and tell the story of growing up LGBTQIA+ in Africa, they make clear the existence of a need for Queer representation for the African Queer child. Gatwa and Rizwan’s successes in the mainstream world of entertainment not only offer hope for similar success to Queer Africans and South Asians but also humanize the Queer African and South Asian condition to those in said communities that believe queerness is incongruous to African and Muslim identities. It offers a real-time example of what it looks like, and what support for queer Africans and South Asians around the world can do for the individual and the community as a whole.

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