Recently my social circles have
had some fierce conversations surrounding the award of Best Supporting Actor at
the Oscars to Jared Leto for his role as Rayon, a transwoman, in Dallas Buyers
Club. I don't really mean to discuss whether he performed the role well or
whether he's really an ally to the trans* community. What I think is important
to discuss is how structures enabled him to get the role over a trans* actor
and why trans* advocates are calling for better representation of trans* actors
in Hollywood.
One of the quotes often attached to this conversation comes
from a CBC interview with the director of the film. He was asked if trans*
actors were considered for the role and replied, "Never. Is there any
transgender actor? To my knowledge — I don’t know one. I didn’t even think
about it." When told that there are in fact trans* actors, he said, “Which
ones? There’s like five, or three, or what — two? I never thought of that. I
never thought of hiring a real rodeo guy to play the rodeo Ron Woodruff. And just
like in every film — we’re actors, we’re directors. I’m not aiming for the real
thing. I’m aiming for an experienced actor who wants to portray the thing.”
This demonstrates two problems facing aspiring trans* actors. First that,
invisibility perpetuates invisibility. Since Hollywood has not yet made a real
effort to incorporate the trans* representation (aside from a few individuals
or sub genres), casting calls are not specialized or even inclusive of trans*
actors.
The second problem demonstrated
by this quote is how it is common latent perception in Hollywood that trans*
identities are chosen peripheral aspects, like rodeo life, rather than an
inherent part of their persons. When actors are chosen based on that perception
for major motion pictures, it is reinforcing that belief. This ties into how it
can be damaging for cisgender actors to play trans* roles because, for example,
when cisgender men play transwomen, this reinforces subconscious perceptions
that really, underneath it all, transwomen are just men in drag. This could be
called nitpicking, and maybe it has been, but when talking about how trans*
stories are being told, we can't divorce our conversation from the reality that
this is the primary method for a large percentage of the population for
creating an understanding of who trans* people are.
Another disagreement this
position can create is that if we demand only trans* actors play trans* roles,
aren't we going to prevent trans* actors from playing cisgender roles? I think
that this is a faulty question in two ways. This question ignores the power
relations in place. Cisgender actors and their place in movies are not in need
of defense in the way that trans* actors and their place are. Second, it
assumes that the current way of writing roles is inherent and necessary. In a
cisnormative society, being cisgender is the assumption. These cisgender roles
aren’t cisgender because the writer is actively constructing a cisgender
character, but because we assume that unless a specific storyline is put in,
the character is cisgender. That assumption needs to be done away with so that
we can stop othering trans* individuals and reducing them to their gender
identity.
The way that specifically
trans* roles are written can be problematic too, because we are often told to
be happy with any kind of representation, so we don’t notice that a trope is
being created for transwomen. Transwomen are often written as mistake-prone and
ditzy, or as drug addicts and sex workers. Which it is true that trans* individuals
are more likely to be marginalized into positions of desperation and poverty,
so drug use and survival crime is a reality for many trans* individuals. And it
is true that there are ditzy transwomen, just like there are ditzy ciswomen and
cismen. However, when this is the main, singular narrative we as an audience
are shown, we begin to conceive of all trans* people like this. Trans*
characters, like Rayon in Dallas Buyers Club, are also often created mostly as
plot devices to redeem another character into an empathetic and improving
character, while leaving the trans* character to play the helpless victim.
This shows the importance of
allowing trans* actors to play trans* roles because they are then able to
exercise control and agency in how trans* stories are told. I cried with
everyone else at cisgender Felicity Huffman’s performance in Transamerica, but a cisgender actor playing a trans* role is not nearly as empowering as when we are able to view trans* individuals
using their own voices to speak, because it does not divorce trans* reality from our
entertainment and have cis voices speak for them. That perpetuates the power imbalance. The consequences of this power imbalance are real with trans*
individuals paying the price with lack of security in body, employment, medical
care (both related to transitioning and not) and housing. Trans* folk also face
disproportionate incarceration and mental health issues related to stress and
trauma. The root of many of these disparities is economic, so denying trans*
actors jobs could also be a reflection of how they are treated in most
industries. We must include trans* actors in our fight for economic stability
and justice for trans* workers.
To wrap up this extraordinarily
long post (sorry everyone), I will say that these are just the reasons I prioritized
and there are many conversations to be had on this topic, but I hope anyone who
made it this far feels better informed.
Thank you for writing about this!! That director's response is SO offensive. It really goes to show the lack of visibility of trans* people not just in the acting profession but in the world in general. This guy thinks there are only 5 trans* actors/actresses total? Right.. He probably ignores/is ignorant of the existence of large numbers trans* people in wider society as well. Shameful.
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