Disney’s white saviour complex
We all know the quintessential narrative used in blockbuster sports movies: athlete endures countless hardships but somehow manages to persevere in the end, whether that means playing a few downs for the college football team they grew up idolizing (Rudy) or beating up a Russian at the height of the Cold War (Rocky IV).
What’s disturbing is how that formulaic plot has been mixed up as of late to appeal to white people’s saviour complex. The Blind Side is one of the most famous for its part in propelling Sandra Bullock to an Academy Award for her role as a well-meaning (key point of contention here) white woman who adopted a troubled young black youth named Michael Oher who would later go on to play in the NFL.
Lately, Disney has been a major culprit with offerings like Million Dollar Arm, which stars Jon Hamm as a struggling but cocksure MLB agent who comes up with the ingenious idea of offering young Indian cricket players a shot at making it in America. The film also boasts a healthy dose of cultural appropriation with Lake Bell, Hamm’s love interest, donning a sari and bindi.
Most recently, Disney has dropped the ball again with McFarland. When I first caught wind of this movie I only saw a brief clip from the trailer of a group of runners on a beach and was reminded of Chariots of Fire, but I only needed to watch the rest of the trailer to realize McFarland doesn’t follow in the former’s footsteps of combatting racism.
The movie revolves around the true story of high school football coach Jim White (Kevin Costner) who is forced to move from Idaho after getting into an altercation with a player and settles down with his family in McFarland, a farming town with a large Hispanic population.
Even though he professes to the school principal that he’s never coached or run cross-country himself, and the principal’s insistence on its private school origins, White manages to start a team. Scenes from the first trailer include him making fun of a common Hispanic name in a condescending tone that only white privilege could create, and comforting a Hispanic youth who’s gotten a black eye in a fight with his father.
While White calls the team “superhuman” to describe their “strength and heart,” the trailer only ends up dehumanizing them through its stereotypical representation.
A second trailer was released that tried to make the brazen coach more likeable, with scenes of him interacting with the runner’s families, but he remains a typical example of a white man valuing his own experience and way of life over those who have been systematically oppressed by his kin.
In all of these films, the people of colour that are taken under the wealthy white protagonists’ wings are all used to offer some sort of enlightenment to the protagonists who are touted for having their hearts softened by the “good kids” and experimenting with a new culture.
But that’s the only purpose they serve; easing the white guilt of an audience too ready to accept such a path to assuaging it.
