Fast Five & the worlds we help create
Every episode of the comedy television series Kenan & Kel [Nickelodeon, 1996-2000] ended in the same way: Kenan would turn to Kel and tell him two random objects and a location that would set the tone for the next adventure. “Kel, get a waffle iron, and an octopus, and meet me at the library.” Kenan would then walk away before we could hear any further explanation about the plan he had in mind. In just one second, the writers let us imagine enough to make us laugh. All it took was a sentence. The gag works because within most sentences there is a hidden universe. And the suggestion of its existence is enough to set in motion a viewer’s imagination. That betokens great power. And with it, come great responsibilities.
A question every storyteller needs to ask is: What kind of stories are they suggesting? The greatest parts of a character are often the ones hidden in plain sight. Spy movies are usually captivating not for the stories they tell, but all the secrets and other missions that are suggested by lines like “remember that time in Russia? You, me and 300 KGB agents. We only had a frying pan and some rope, but we made it work.” “We always make it work.” We don’t need to know the story to get a glimpse of an atmosphere that contributes to the formation of characters and how much we care about them.
A character is composed by the things we see and by what our imaginations complete. What imagination tools are we furnishing to our readers and viewers? And what worlds can they create with them? I am an international student, from Brazil. And I always thought that the tools given for Americans to imagine Brazil were at least limited. What can you fill between the lines, when the lines given are so fragile and stereotypical?
Fast 5 - Fun movie with dangerous stereotypes.
In Fast 5 (2011), one of the few mainstream movies set in Rio, Vin Diesel resists arrest from the policeman played by Dwaine “The Rock” Johnson and then proceeds to say “your mistake… is thinking you are in America. You are a long way from home. This is Brazil!” As soon as he says that, the people around him, mostly shirtless Brazilian men of color, take out guns and point them towards the cops. In this scene, like in every scene, it is normal to wonder about the lives of the people shown. It is normal to create stories that go far beyond the Fast 5 plot. What kind of other stories does the actual story suggest? What can people create about Brazil if all you are given are elements charged only with violence and one certain kind of sexuality? If you don’t have any more references, this and only this, is, in fact, Brazil.
That’s the importance of immigrant characters in television and cinema. They can offer a more complex nuanced narrative about places that are not the common scenario. Through them, their clothes, their behavior, the screenwriter offers a glimpse of a world. The lines provided by the writer will be the motor of whatever is created from that. If what you show is a limited, empty, stereotypical character, your audience will imagine a world with exactly those characteristics. And that might be the only contact some of them have with an entire society.
Truth be told, Brazil was of interest to the world throughout the 20th century and specially in the last decade. World cup, Olympics, BRICS and many other opportunities offered a lot more for people to imagine a tri-dimensional country. It is still far from ideal representation. The stories we can create with the tools given by American mainstream media are still so limited; it affects how Brazilians see themselves and the possibilities they can imagine in real life. But compare it to Kenya, Malaysia or Vietnam and I almost feel lucky.
In most commercial of circuits, there is barely any mention of these countries. When they are actually there, the two objects and location given are only enough to create the most distorted of images. That is why immigrant characters are a great responsibility, especially in shows that are praised for their inclusion. It is the chance to offer an arc, a name, real tools for a different story about an underdeveloped country and the possibilities offered by that place and the people that come from there. Usually, that opportunity is thrown out the window in the name of comedy.
One of the greatest examples in 2017 was Rashid, from Dear White People. Based on the acclaimed film of the same name, this Netflix-original series follows a group of students of color at a predominantly white Ivy League college. The only international student in the show (now canceled) is this one Kenyan man. His is, as for most migrant characters, a supporting role. We don’t get to know what goes on in his head, how he deals with life at school and being homesick. The only glimpse we are able to catch are his general characteristics: he is permanently clumsy, distracted, has a past filled with violence and pain that he refers to bluntly. Sentences like “No, it’s fine. My mom died very young, so I knew she was not on the phone,” opens space for imaginations to hit the same common targets that have defined the narrative about African countries and the complexity of places that are not the United States.
Rashid Bakr (Jeremy Tardy) in Dear White People —— Photo: Dear White People wiki
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, among other authors from the geopolitical South, has spoken about the danger of misrepresentation and the consequences of a single story (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D9Ihs241zeg). It is important to understand the extent of those claims, and how the responsibility of filmmakers who propose to recreate narratives go far beyond not pulling of a “5 Fast” fiasco.
It is about the understanding that a viewer’s imagination can work out of almost thin air. Every sentence pulls from a string of known references that we can only change by being careful about every word and comprehending the complex ideologies that we deliver every time a character from an underdeveloped country speaks in front of a camera. Rashid does have interesting comebacks for people who correct his English, or complain about his behavior, but, overall, his actions point out his structural differences from his friends, and the fact that he is a foreigner defines the range of emotions he has shown and the complexity he can add to the narrative. In Dear White People all characters, even ones with fewer lines than Rashid, have pain and fear. Why was he limited to gags about being lost at university? Or humor on how difficult his life was and how numb he is to the apparent extreme pain he felt?
It is up to us as viewers to stay tuned and look for what kind of lines we are given to write upon. There will not be many stories starring Kenya in American commercial audiovisuals’ foreseeable future, but there will be references to African countries, and characters from African nations. There will be foreigners on screen, and white-American characters that went on vacation to certain nations and will mention two characteristics and a location. If the show “Kenan & Kel” has proven something, it is that when it comes to creating a new story, although incomplete and far from perfect, two words and a location are all you need.