He-Man and Recycled Content as Diversity
These days it seems like all we watch are reboots or spin-offs and endless franchises. What does this mean for diversity and representation?
* Spoiler Warning for Masters of the Universe: Revelation! *
Having recently watched Netflix's Masters of the Universe: Revelation, I found myself thinking a lot about the way in which women and other 'minorities' are now heading so many reboots, spin-offs, sequels and such, and about what it means that these groups are taking over known properties instead of getting new and fresh stories written for them. I think it's safe to say that the current decade of film-making will not be known for pushing the bounds of creativity. We have seen many great things which have brought film-making technology to new heights, such as the VFX technology that was invented for the production of The Mandalorian, but we have rarely seen an original film or TV show in the last few years that was not a spin-off, a reboot, or a revival of something that we've already seen in the past. Try thinking back to all the films and TV shows you've recently heard of or that you've seen. How many of them were something new and original? I can only think of one off the top of my head, and that's last year's Tenet. The truth is that right now nostalgia is the name of the game; it is what every studio seems to be banking on when greenlighting projects — the Star Wars franchise being perhaps the most prominent example.
Like everything in the world of capitalist industry, this heavy reliance on nostalgia arises from an economic concern. Film-making is a business, which is why its main objective is profit. These days, studios are spending more and more money on blockbuster films (compare the average budget of $70 million for a blockbuster in 2005 to one upwards of $250 million in 2019) — which is why studios are also becoming much more risk-averse. The more money they spend on their expensive blockbusters, the less likely they are to take creative risks with their storytelling. Thus, we have reboots, sequels, spin-offs, prequels and revivals for everything from Star Wars to Gossip Girl to The Lord of the Rings to How I Met Your Mother (or Father, now). Even the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise has dumped Johnny Depp in favour of Margot Robbie for new, more woke sea-faring adventures (one imagines).
Given this creatively stale environment, it is not altogether a great time for disenfranchised peoples and communities to build meaningful representation for themselves in films. Diversity is, of course, a must these days. But how meaningful can representation be when, for example, the characters women are given are recycled from popular franchises of the past, like 2016's ill-fated Ghostbusters reboot? Is it truly diversity when one simply switches the gender or the colour of the characters' skin without bothering to imagine how the lived experiences of women and POC would affect the story? In 2016, director Gareth Edwards (no doubt congratulating himself for his superior progressiveness) claimed that the Rogue One heroine Jyn Erso was written as 'gender-neutral'. The question is, if you write a woman just as you would a man, are you really writing about a woman? And similarly, if you reboot a franchise and cast a black man instead of a white man, but do not otherwise change the script, are you really writing about a black man? We've seen that movie before, and the answer is no.
I do believe that expanding the universes of beloved franchises and populating them with previously unrepresented people is important. Not because it is 'welcoming' those people into those spaces, but because it is admitting that they were a part of them all along. But there is a fine line between performative or 'token diversity' and meaningful, empathetic representation. When Ocean's Eight and its impressive cast was first announced, I was genuinely intrigued. The original Ocean's films are great (or at least, the first one is) so I had high hopes for the gender-flipped spin-off. But I was disappointed to find that the new characters, despite being played by the likes of Sandra Bullock and Cate Blanchett, were merely replicas of George Clooney and Brad Pitt's iconic characters. If Ocean's Eight existed in a world where the original Ocean's franchise hadn't preceded it, it would be a good film. But as it stands, the characters have no originality and little substance beyond their purpose, which is clearly nothing more than to be women. Women who steal jewelry, that is.
Another project that also concerns me is the (supposedly) upcoming adaptation of The Lord of the Flies, which will see a gender-flipped cast of characters struggle to survive on a deserted island after a plane crash. The original novel by William Golding was, of course, an exploration of the ways in which the violence of patriarchy and toxic masculinity perpetuates itself. As a teacher at a boy's school, Golding was very much alluding to the way in which young boys are brought up to absorb and perpetuate patriarchal violence, which is why scholar Roxanne Gay responded to the adaptation's announcement with a tweet saying, "An all women remake of Lord of the Flies makes no sense because... the plot of that book wouldn't happen with all women," while writer Gavia Baker-Whitelaw tweeted, ""all-female Lord of the Flies remake" SOUNDS LIKE SOMEONE MISSED THE FUUUUUCKIN POINT OF LORD OF THE FLIES." And to add insult to injury, the project, which was greenlit in 2017, was to be written and spearheaded by two men.
So when I watched Masters of the Universe: Revelation, which is a continuation of the classic 80's cartoon He-Man: Masters of the Universe, I did not know what to think. I did like it. In fact, I thought the first five episodes were absolutely great. The story was well-written and intriguing, and it had plenty of substance. I felt it was a fitting transition from the children's cartoon of the 80's to the adult world of millenials' 2021, one which is cynical and world-weary but hopeful and determined to fight for the livelihood of our planet. But a lot of gatekeeping nerd-men naturally did not share my opinion, as evidenced by the 33% audience rating they gave the show (while the critic score holds it at 95%). And here is why: Masters of the Universe does the unthinkable and kills off He-Man early on in the first episode, leading his friend Teela to become the show's main protagonist. Along with the other heroes and villains of the original show, Teela must now fight to restore magic to the realm of Eternia.
So herein lies the problem: the three leading characters, the ones with the most lines and screen-time, are all women. Considering that this yet another nostalgia-fuelled sequel, could the gatekeepers have a point in saying that this is just another superficial attempt at making something 'woke'? I think yes, it could be. Clearly, this is something that happens a lot. But perhaps the difference here is that Teela was always an integral part of the story, and so it would be natural for her to take the lead in a world that had lost He-Man. The original cartoon even revealed that she was the daughter of the powerful Sorceress, so being a hero was already in her blood. And the organic way in which the other two women are woven in to the story suggests that this was not so much an effort to 'be woke' as it was to tie up the threads of the story that the original show had left hanging. Showrunner Kevin Smith said as much when commenting on the divisive reception to Masters of the Universe: Revelation.
I think it's sad that creativity and diversity are considered to be such a huge risk by the entertainment industry. I think it's sad that this only leaves room for endless franchises and spin-offs, sequels, reboots, revivals and what have you. And it's sad that good and original storytelling has fallen by the wayside. But sometimes, if a good story can be found within a universe that is already well-known, a story that can address the lived experiences of people who aren't straight white men, we should embrace it. If the only flaw of 2021's Masters of the Universe is that it's led by Teela instead of He-Man, then perhaps we are not valuing good storytelling as much as we think we are (and by we I mean the gatekeepers, of course). Maybe the pandemic's damage to the box office will inspire studios to focus less on expensive blockbusters and make more room for mid-range projects that truly focus on good stories. But for now, we can only hope to find the occasional gem of a good story that has authentic representation of minorities amid the endlessly recycled large-scale franchises.
By R. Jordan Ortiz