Let's get this out of the way: inclusion is generally a good thing. It’s like inviting everyone to a party. Who doesn’t love a party with lots of different kinds of people? More friends, more snacks, more dancing. It sounds like a win-win.
But then… there’s the entertainment side of things. And sometimes, just sometimes, when we try really, really hard to be inclusive, it can go a little sideways. Like a potluck where everyone brings potato salad. Suddenly, you have too much potato salad. Delicious, yes, but maybe not the most exciting variety.
Think about it. We want stories that reflect the world. That’s fantastic! We want to see characters who look like us, sound like us, and maybe even have the same embarrassing family traditions as us. This is where the magic of movies and TV shows can really shine. They can broaden our horizons and make us feel seen.
However, there’s a delicate balance. Sometimes, the drive for representation can feel a bit… forced. Like when a superhero movie suddenly needs a character for literally every single demographic group. It's like they're checking off a list. "Okay, we have a woman. Got it. Now, a person of color. Check. Someone from the LGBTQ+ community. Check. A character who uses a wheelchair. Check. And oh, let's not forget someone who is a vegan and a competitive dog groomer. Double check!"
Suddenly, your epic space battle is interrupted by a five-minute scene about the vegan dog groomer’s ethical concerns about using laser pointers. It’s not that their concerns aren’t valid! They absolutely are. It’s just… does it fit the narrative of saving the galaxy from an alien invasion? Maybe not perfectly.
And what about the characters themselves? When the only thing we know about a character is their identity, it can feel a little hollow. Like a beautifully decorated cake with no actual cake inside. We’re presented with a character who is, for example, the sassy Black lesbian accountant. Great! But what else? What are their dreams? Their fears? Do they trip over their own feet when they’re nervous? Do they secretly love bad karaoke?
If their entire personality is defined by their identity markers, it doesn't feel like a real person. It feels like a representative. And while representation is important, so is genuine character development. We don't want to watch a walking, talking demographic report. We want to watch a story about a person, who happens to have certain characteristics.
Sometimes, the pressure to include can lead to some truly bizarre plot points. I’m not saying I haven’t enjoyed a good laugh at a movie that tries a bit too hard, but there’s a difference between organic storytelling and a checklist of diversity quotas. It’s like the difference between a chef creating a delicious, balanced meal and a robot programmed to assemble a plate with one of everything it can find in the pantry.
And let’s not even get started on the “token” character. You know the one. The sole representative of a group who exists mainly to deliver a few lines that highlight their difference. They’re there to tick a box, and then often disappear just as quickly. It’s like inviting someone to your party just so you can say, "See? I invited someone who wears a lot of purple!" But then you never actually talk to them.
The best inclusion in entertainment doesn't feel like an obligation. It feels natural. It feels like the characters were always meant to be there, and their stories are compelling because of who they are, not just because of their background. It's when a story is so good, you forget you're watching a "diverse" character, and you're just watching a great character.
Think about some of your favorite characters. Do you remember their ethnicity, gender, or sexual orientation as the first thing that comes to mind? Or do you remember their wit, their courage, their flaws, and the way they made you feel? That's the sweet spot. That’s when inclusion truly works.
When stories feel shoehorned in, or characters feel like they exist solely to represent something, it can actually do a disservice to the very people it aims to include. It can feel like the creators are saying, "Look how progressive we are!" rather than, "Look at this amazing story we've crafted, which happens to feature these wonderful individuals."
So, while the intention behind inclusion in entertainment is almost always noble, the execution can be… well, it can be a bit of a juggling act. And sometimes, the juggler drops a few balls. It's okay to acknowledge that the journey towards perfect inclusion in storytelling is ongoing. And maybe, just maybe, we can laugh a little at the times it feels like someone tried to fit a square peg into a round hole, even if they had the best intentions.
Ultimately, we all just want good stories with characters we care about. And if those characters happen to be diverse and well-written, that’s a spectacular bonus. But if the diversity feels like a tacked-on accessory, it can sometimes feel more like a distraction than a celebration. It’s a tricky business, this storytelling.
It's like trying to make a really complex recipe. You need all the right ingredients, but if you put too much of one thing, or add something that just doesn't belong, the whole dish can be ruined. Even if you started with the best intentions, like wanting everyone to have a taste of something new.
We want narratives that feel authentic, not just a collection of identity badges. We want characters who are individuals first, and representatives second. When that happens, inclusion isn't a problem; it's simply a beautiful, natural part of a fantastic story. And wouldn't that be something truly wonderful to watch?
