From personal experience and discussion with other informed voices in the film community, I’ve developed a shorthand set of thumb rules: ten film commandments, my decem praecepta. This series of articles breaks down what I’m on about.
Continuing on:
“4. Thou shalt not use marginalized groups as plot devices.”
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The magical black man, the mystical plainsman, and more recently the neurodivergent genius child… fictional folks created to help the straight white male protagonist save the day. An oversimplification, sure, but a trope for a reason: plot convenience masquerading as diversity. Don’t break your arm trying to pat yourself on the back, Mr. or Ms. Screenwriter.
While the “manic magic pixie girl” is similar — often appearing in the guise of Zooey Deschanel — she often doubles for a romantic possibility who (of course) is only interested in our protagonist cypher “Gary Stu.” Fortunately, this is preferred over the “women in refrigerators” trope: murdering a lady love interest who makes an appearance just long enough to motivate the manly man into action (and marginalizing half the world’s population). There’s also the much sought-after wisdom of “the witch in the woods,” but this is more of a convenience than marginalization (see my second film commandment). Side note: historically speaking, the term “witch” is and always will be gender-neutral, no matter how many times J.K. Rowling declares otherwise.
This problem isn’t only racial or gender biased; for example, the notably deformed and/or disabled individuals cast as villains in “Batman,” “Dick Tracy,” and even “X-Men” stories (read: pretty equals good; ugly equals bad). If a marginalized group isn’t accepted in context as a whole, there must be a greater reason an individual of that group eventually becomes acceptable other than being useful to the hero. The catatonic elders from The Exorcist III: Legion and the homeless in John Carpenter’s Prince of Darkness are better examples, groups victimized by their condition (similar to zombies) due to villainy or dark forces rather than simply being the helpful device in situation.
In Shane Black’s The Predator, the autistic plot device — a child the script calls “Rory” — not only gets everyone into trouble but also gets them out by learning an alien language hilariously fast due to his gift-curse condition, which is exactly the wrong way to do this. While the trope is exploited in films like Forrest Gump, stepping into the marginalized character’s POV as the protagonist adds meaningful insight because it’s their story. Tom Cruise’s character initially exploiting Dustin Hoffman’s Rain Main treads dangerous water because the story revolves around the “normie” learning acceptance of the marginal (insert risqué Tropic Thunder joke here).
Such characters should have identity and agency, be well-researched for authenticity, and avoid anything stereotypical as much as possible. The important question is this: must this character be from a marginalized group to meaningfully improve the story, or is it just a choice to spice things up, add a little flavor, and make the story edgier? If it’s the latter, care must be taken to avoid them becoming a token exception, like Santa Claus needing Rudolph’s scorn-worthy deformity to light his way on Christmas eve after letting all the other reindeer call him names. Not cool, dude.
Disclaimer: these are my opinions; feel free to articulate your own. 💀
Up next:
“5. Remember the source material to keep it holy.”

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