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By Mathew Rodriguez
In this editorial, Mathew Rodriguez questions the use of black, brown and queer characters as characters in the plot, rather than genuine and compelling characters, in Netflix’s The Kissing Booth 2.
There’s a long, unfortunate story of movie sequels for young people with black and brown characters to correct the course after the first episode of an absolutely bleached movie. As a fan of horror films, my brain leaps without delay to the sequels Scream 2 and I Still Know What You Did Last Summer, which placed actress Elise Neal and singer Brandy in the film’s respective “diversity niches”. The Wayans Brothers even took the trend and mocked her with Brenda’s character, played through Regina Hall, in her scary Movie genre.
These are just two examples in a long story, unfortunately, of filmmakers who know (or, let’s be realistic, respond to pressure) that creating universes in which the characters are almost universally white shows not only prejudices, but takes them more into account. The most recent version of this truth is Netflix’s The Kissing Booth 2, the sequel to broadcaster the Kissing Booth’s 2018 hit, a romantic young people’s comedy about the inner life of young white men in Los Angeles. Booth focuses on Shelly “Elle” Evans (Joey King), 17, who begins a date with top-level student Noah Flynn (Jacob Elordi), this quote jeopardizes his friendship with Noah’s younger brother, Lee (Joel Courtney).
In the iteration of the moment, things are replaced when two strangers enter their lives: new Latino student Marco (Taylor Zahkar Perez) tries to get away from Noah. He plays guitar, sings in Spanish and accumulates his love for Dance Dance Mania. Meanwhile, she is jealous that Noah’s eyes are on her new Harvard partner, Chloe, played by Maisie Richardson-Sellers of The CW’s Legends of Tomorrow. Chloe and Marco act as plots that save us from guessing whether the relationship between Elle and Noah can last. And it’s because those characters act as plot devices, which as genuine characters, pose a problem.
Photo: Marcos Cruz / Netflix
Because she and Noah are the main couple of the series, the senders call them NoElle, there is no genuine risk to the relationship. On the contrary, Chloe and Marco serve as a control of their relationship, which, by the way, is already marked because it is long distance. These characters exist as obstacles, but not as challenges, or as very circular characters at all. Marco fulfills the goal of breathing Latin charm. Sing “What I Love About You” in Spanish. And although Chloe is a constant and annoying presence on the back of Elle’s head, she is rarely seen as anything more than an opponent of Ella’s. Most of the time, it’s on the screen, it’s through a cryptic post on Instagram or an idea on Elle’s head.
The sad thing is that there are so many Marcos and Chloes in the world with compelling stories. How does it feel to be a Latinx Hispanic child in a white high school, especially in a domain as ethnically varied as Los Angeles? What’s it like to be a black woman at Harvard struggling to adjust to her first year as your friend looks at you and presents you as a risk, even if she’s 3,000 miles away?
Unfortunately, in stories where white emotions occupy a central place, other people of color are simply ornamental, a truth that breeds in Kissing Booth 2. Of course, I’m glad Taylor and Maisie got a check. I’m mainly a fan of blacks and maroons who get their game. But I’m even more a fan of the black and maroon game characters that exist more than just tapestries in the lives of multifaceted whites.
Photo: Marcos Cruz / Netflix
A similar tokenization challenge occurs with the addition of a homosexual subplot with Ollie (played through Judd Krok), a character who gave the impression in the background of the original. The homosexual plot, like the addition of two colorful characters, feels destined to tick a box on a diversity checklist, rather than making a genuine queer theme. If it’s not yet clear: it’s a film absolutely obsessed with the lives of heterosexual whites. When a gay (white!) user is introduced, this only underscores in one way or another Elle’s ideals that true love prevails and allows “homosexual” to be indexed in the film’s animal collection containing various stories that he needs to believe is saying it. By the time the two gay characters kiss at the end, having not had important conversations during the two hours and more of the film, you can feel the film patting it on the back for letting two guys fuck it.
There is a spectrum in the media in terms of representation. In an ending there are films like The Kissing Booth, which only fear the lives of other white people and yet are considered common. Then, at the other end of the day, there are films in which only blacks, Latinos, Aboriginal or Asians appear that are considered a niche or a genre. In the middle, there are other tactics in which whites and other people of color coexist. Somewhere in the line are exhibits such as GLOW and Odiversity Is the New Black, anyone who uses soft white women as entrances to tell the stories of a wide diversity of women of color. Even with the show’s giant ensembles, it seemed that the show’s writers knew the series needed a white character as a hook for its audience to care about non-whites.
Basically, a varied cast does not equate to a narrative that summarizes a diversity of perspectives and life experiences. Spraying a seasoning after anything is absolutely cooked won’t give you the flavor you need. There are many systems in television and movies that result in castings that give way to non-white narratives never sacrifice quality. Think Superstore, The Good Place, On My Block, in the movie, Hustlers or Widows. Clearly, this is not an exhaustive list. Go to the movies (or, I mean, on the days of COVID, turn on Netflix, Hulu, Peacock or HBO Max) and there are many examples where black and non-black POCs can be fully learned, even sharing the screen. with whites.
So what’s the solution to a franchise like The Kissing Booth, which was unbearably white in its early days and should come with diversity while showing existing characters? Well, first we’ll have to recognize that The Kissing Booth’s challenge is systemic. Because whiteness is considered not unusual and normal, films like The Kissing Booth will get the green light, as will its sequels. The existing truth of calling actors to play colored characters is itself a step forward, but not enough. It is not enough for writers to realize that other people of color simply exist along with other white people. More and more studies deserve to seek to offer all-white franchises to other people of color, adding writing groups of two or more non-white people, to reflect a global that sounds true to the global in which the characters live.
Are there any examples of that? Look no further, Mindy Kaling, who, after writing the fair and incredibly varied Never Have I Ever, has been announced as one of the upcoming entries in the Legally Blonde franchise. No, I don’t expect Elle Woods to suddenly not be white, yet with a woman of color at the helm, I hope that the world in which Woods lives has other people of color with hearts, minds and stories to tell.
The young man’s consultant to conquer (and save) the world. Teen Vogue covers celebrity news, politics, fashion, beauty, wellness, lifestyle and entertainment.
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