WE WANT DIVERSITY AND WE WANT IT NOW
The animation of films, series and video games is not only an extraordinary creative territory, but, like all art, it also has great educational and exemplary potential as a social engineer. When we see that animated films and series normalize a gay wedding (Steven Universe), a racialized princess (Tiana and the Frog), a trans protagonist (Deadlock: A paranormal park) or a protagonist with Down syndrome (Valentina), we sense the impact that this will have. Due to their connection with the youngest audience, these media will reach where politicians or institutional campaigns cannot reach. It is a power that comes with responsibility, naturally. The recent success on Netflix of the extraordinary animated feature film Nimona (based on the comic by ND Stevenson and favorite for this year’s Oscars), starring a hyperactive and marginalized teenager, capable of turning into any animal or person when they have an adrenaline rush, and an interracial and gay couple of princes, has made it clear that there is a growing audience eager to see our diverse reality reflected, also in animation.
But this inclusive vision is part of animation’s own DNA. This is a visual art that creates worlds from scratch. Metamorphoses and the representation of bodies as non-normative as that of Olivia from Popeye, that of Princess Lumps from Adventure Time or that of the plump Minions are common in animation. Are perhaps the yellow skin of the Simpson family and their impossible hairstyles elements with which to represent a not-necessarily-white middle class as is usually common in sitcoms?
Why do so many teenagers today identify with manga and anime characters that are outside the norm? There have been plenty of animals, plants, and even objects with a life of their own and relationships between them since the unforgettable shorts by the Fleischer brothers or Disney’s Silly Simphonies. An insignificant and reviled animal like a mouse became Mickey Mouse, the great character symbol of today’s most powerful production company in the world.
The animation has overcome criticism and censorship thanks to its own fantastic nature. In The Cameraman’s Revenge, the 1911 film by Ladislas Starewitch, we are shown the infidelity of the grasshopper’s wife with a cicada. Was that an interracial relationship, as well as adulterous? In numerous classic Warner Brothers cartoons, the Looney Tunes, characters appear cross-dressing (Bugs Bunny) or flirting with another of the same sex (Pepe Le Pew). Animated cinema has always offered the viewer a great margin to imagine and project the condition of each viewer.
Rebecca Sugar, creator of the acclaimed Cartoon Network series Steven Universe in 2015, put on screen the first wedding between two women seen in animation. “It meant a lot to me to create characters that are a reflection and an extension of myself. If as a viewer you only have the opportunity to interact with the same type of character over and over again, that contributes to the marginalization of people who consider themselves different, there is no opportunity to know another reality. When you see live-action characters in series, you have the feeling of knowing them, they are close to you, but with animation it goes one step further, because as a creator you project yourself into it,” she said. Sugar, who declared herself a non-binary person, had previously worked on one of the most imaginative series of all time, Adventure Time, in which she tackled the topic of gender diversity with a very freedom. unusual in children’s series.
Naturally, in animation there have also been caricatures, mockery and abuse of hurtful topics, whether social, colonial or conditions as apparently innocent as Mr Magoo’s myopia.
There is still a long way to go, but it is independent animation, present in festivals like Animac, that has always opted most decisively for diversity. Along these lines, we must cite a beautiful English short film titled A is for Autism (1992) where its director, Tim Webb, makes visible the stories of autistic people from their own stories and drawings. of the.
The decade of the 90s was extraordinary in this sense in England, thanks to the efforts of the best animation schools and channels such as BBC 2 and Channel Four. Under these circumstances, authors such as Joanna Quinn (Honorary Award at Animac 2020) were able to flourish, with a fun feminist short Girls Night Out, which invited many authors to explain their own stories and experiences, or Barry JC Purves (Award This year’s Animation Master 2024), director of Achilles, an animated puppet film that explicitly shows a homosexual relationship. Also relevant is the case of Canada, where the NFB (National Film Board) has always supported auteur animation, regularly integrating diverse sensibilities and realities, whether they were aboriginal ethnic groups or other groups that had not traditionally had access to making films or being represented. properly.
However, in the 21st century there are those who are scandalized by a kiss between people of the same sex in a cartoon (but not in a real image), who believe that the protagonist of a traditional story cannot be black (but she can be a mermaid). , or who feels uncomfortable in the presence of characters with non-normative bodies and conditions (although perhaps they are those of the viewer himself).
It is relevant to consider the progress of commercial animation in this sense, generally more conservative, but with a great impact on society. Production companies like Disney and Pixar are taking great steps, both in their stories and in their work teams, with diversity departments that translate into plots and characters that better reflect social wealth and its conflicts, with princesses that are gradually separating little the idea of Prince Charming as the only goal, and that they represent more varied cultures and ethnicities (Coco, Encanto, Soul…).
It could be said that the damage that the film industry caused in the past, based on stereotypes, caricatures or, simply, lack of diversity, can only be fixed by the same powerful industry, still today the greatest source of imaginaries. That is, the great reality producer.
A large number of the diversity stories that reach us through animation do so because their own creators belong to groups that have traditionally felt excluded or mistreated in their representation, and that is a large group. Whoever makes films, if circumstances allow, first tells the stories that he knows, those that move, move and represent him. That is why a diversity of artists working in the profession is necessary, to achieve real diversity on the screen. To give an example, thanks to associations such as WIA in the US (Women in Animation), MIA in Spain (Women in the Animation Industry), CIMA (Women Filmmakers) or Dones Visuals in Catalonia, the work of women filmmakers has been made visible. and even legislate to move towards equal opportunities.
There is resistance to overcome, and much debate about how to act in the best way, but there is also an urgency to change the scenario that was common until just a few decades ago. Technology, modes of production and ways of sharing have multiplied our expressive possibilities enormously. And yet, society changes much faster than fictions are capable of representing. Only on a few occasions is fiction capable of precipitating the desired changes. It is these works that we pursue and need today.
By Carolina López, audiovisual curator and director of Animac Lleida, International Animation Film Festival of Catalonia, for the DIS cultural supplement of January 27th, 2024.