The Unseen Weight of the Brown Actor's Role
In a world striving for diversity and inclusivity on screen and stage, one would think that the issues faced by brown actors in the past would no longer plague today's entertainment industry. Yet, as an actor of Indian descent, I find myself entangled in scripts and productions that seem more intent on highlighting my ethnicity than my talent. This constant emphasis on my heritage, while intended to champion diversity, ironically undermines the very purpose it aims to serve.
When I step onto a stage or into an audition room, it's with the same passion, dedication, and commitment to my craft as any other actor. It's with the hope that the character I portray will resonate with audiences, regardless of their cultural backgrounds. However, time and again, I've been handed scripts where the lines focus on my ethnicity. Lines which, more often than not, serve no genuine narrative purpose but simply remind audiences, "This character is Indian."
These moments stand out in stark contrast when I observe my colleagues of other ethnicities. Rarely does the white character have lines that highlight their racial backgrounds unless it's integral to the plot. Their characters are allowed nuance and depth without the constant underpinning of race. The same should be expected of all characters, regardless of race or ethnicity.
Moreover, the design and directing elements that accompany these roles can often be more stereotypical than illustrative. One example is the inclusion of poorly sourced Indian clothing in the costume design, even when the scene doesn't call for it. Consider Parvati and Padma Patil and their tacky caricature-like Indian lehengas (a three-piece ensemble consisting of a lehenga: a long ankle-length skirt, a choli: a well-fitted cropped blouse, and a dupatta: a scarf to drape around the outfit) in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Let’s not forget Ravi from the Disney channel show Jessie, regularly dressed in kurtas (a long, loose shirt) despite his character being adopted by a white family and living in New York for many years. Think about the put-on accents by Richa Moorjani playing Kamala in Never Have I Ever and Simone Ashley playing Kate Sharma in Bridgerton. Despite naturally having American and British accents, respectively, the actresses are directed to act with fake Indian accents rather than casting actresses with authentic Indian accents.
These design and directing elements might seem trivial to an outsider, but they carry the weight of an entire culture, often misrepresented. Just as every American doesn't wear cowboy hats or baseball caps all the time, every Indian character doesn't need to be dressed as if they're perpetually attending a traditional Indian festivity. Every Indian character doesn’t have to sound like they’re fresh off the plane, especially when many of these ‘Indian accents’ are inauthentic. This isn't true representation, especially when these directing and design choices are made by individuals who aren’t of Indian descent. It's tokenization.
Additionally, even when I do secure a role that authentically delves into the brown experience, I've encountered instances of racism from non-desi members of the team. These incidents have been both subtle and overt, ranging from being mistaken for other brown actors in the production to encountering microaggressions that undermine the authenticity of my performance. It's disheartening to realize that despite being cast in a role that should reflect the nuances of my heritage, I still face challenges rooted in misconceptions and biases held by those of different cultural backgrounds. These experiences serve as a reminder that while progress is being made, there's still a long way to go in eradicating the systemic biases that persist within the entertainment industry.
This isn't to say that highlighting one's culture or ethnicity in entertainment is wrong. However, when my race is consistently and unnecessarily brought to the forefront in the script, direction, and design, (and even in reviews), it feels as if I’m merely a fetishized prop, intended to add color to the stage, rather than an actor adding value to the production. “Vidisha Agarwalla has the right astuteness of an Indian lawyer.” Seriously, what kind of ‘acting review’ is that? How did my acting reflect my race? How is bringing up my race relevant?
In the quest for ‘diversity’ (an overused word in the age of performative, trending DEI initiatives), it's important to understand that merely having a brown body on stage shouldn't be the end goal. True representation should be the aim, where a character's depth, complexity, and humanity are at the forefront, and their racial background is just one facet of their multi-dimensional personality.
And to all the playwrights, directors, designers, and producers out there: You don't need lines about my heritage or stereotypical costumes to remind the audience of my race. A glimpse of my skin tone should be enough.
