A Constant Comparison of Race-bent Characters to The Originals

Response

One of the most vibrant and loud movements so far in the 21st century has been the push for diversification. You can see this movement everywhere; in movies, in government, in workplaces, and also in colleges and universities. One effort that has been proposed is race-bending, the changing of white characters to a different race in order to appeal to new audiences or diversify a character. We have seen this in recent superhero movies, like The Amazing Spiderman 2, where Electro is race-bent and changed into a black character. Is race bending a successful way to diversity comics and appeal to wider audiences that are constantly becoming more diverse? In cases where a new version of a character is created (like Miles Morales becoming Spider-Man), then I believe race bending is helpful in appealing to new audiences. In situations where there is already an existing white character, race-bending isn’t effective because race-bending gives readers a feeling of unoriginality while constantly causing the audience to compare the new, race-bent characters to the originals.

In 2014, there was a remake of the classic 1982 film Annie. When trailers were released for this movie, it was fairly common to see people asking why the race of the character was changed on social media, with many news outlets and blogs offering their take (and being quick to shun those who asked) (D Vina, 2014). To many people, these characters are viewed as unoriginal, which Adilifu Nama (90) talks about in her book Super Black, saying “the race reversal trope invites criticisms as disappointingly derivative and suggests that black cultural formation has very little to offer in terms of originality.” People grew up with Annie, and the movie has become one of those movies that parents pass onto their children. Annie, her red hair, and her demeanor are all well-known. Changing Annie into a young black girl, while certainly diversifying the character, doesn’t make her new. The “new” character doesn’t offer much that is different from the original red-headed character, and those who have seen the original film, even if they didn’t care for it, aren’t likely to think of this as a new, original take on the story, furthering the idea that black culture has little to offer in terms of originality.

Race-bending also forces audiences to compare the original character with the new, race-bent version constantly, especially if one was able to identify with the original character. Often against our own will, we compare the people and places around us to what we’re familiar with. Du Bois mentions these kinds of comparisons in his book Souls of Black Folk. He talks about a “double consciousness, this sense of always looking at oneself through the eyes of others” (Du Bois, 2). Although the prejudice that existed during Du Bois time, in many ways, has subsided or disappeared, we can still see his view in these situations. Du Bois stated that he and all black people at the time viewed themselves not only as themselves, but also how white people at the time viewed them; this gave the white people a distorted view of what black culture had to offer. In the modern era, this can happen just as easily with comic book superheroes. If a previously white superhero were made to be of a different race, we’d be constantly comparing them to the character we’re familiar with. If Peter Parker was changed to be a Hispanic teenager, we wouldn’t just say that he’s Peter Parker, we’d say that he’s Hispanic Peter Parker. Putting different racial spins on established characters is a constant reminder that we’re looking at a new version of this character, but they are not the original character, and their actions become less meaningful because they aren’t the real, authentic character that was originally intended.

This, of course, is not to say that every superhero should remain the same forever. As I mentioned before, creating new and different versions of existing characters (that can tell new stories) is a helpful way to go about diversification. There is a successor to Spider-Man named Miles Morales, which means we’re not using traditional race-bending. Sure, we have Parker’s actions as Spider-Man to compare to, but we also have any differences between the two explained by the difference in secret identity. If Miles’s Spider-Man does something Peter’s wouldn’t, it’s because that Spider-Man isn’t Peter’s. In Ultimate Comic’s Spider Man, we consistently see the characters telling Miles that he isn’t Spider-Man when he wears the costume and acts like Spider-Man. Later, when he is finally given the identity of Spider-Man, there is a new costume and a new identity, separating Miles from Peter almost completely (Bendis). We innately are going to see how Miles’s Spider-Man performs when compared to Peter’s, but there is a clear distinction between the two. Hypothetical Hispanic Peter Parker doesn’t have a clear, defining moment (or a series of) of differences that separates him from the original, white Peter Parker, but Miles does.

Diversity is arguably one of the most asked-for things so far this millennium, and the requests and demands are only going to get stronger as time goes on. Creators have produced examples of characters with different races, but have failed to give characters like Annie a true distinction from their former or original selves. While race-bending in some situations is helpful and can be successful in achieving diversity and attracting new audiences, race-bending and changing original, established white characters into characters of other races can lead to unfair comparisons. We compare the new versions of these characters to their originals, which can give audiences feelings of unoriginality, and cause them to view them only as extensions and rehashes of the source material.