The Divide

 Jay and I went to see Wicked Little Letters tonight. For me, it was a good diversion after a long day. 

We talked about the film on the way out to the car. 

"It wasn't what I thought it was going to be," said Jay. "It wasn't as funny as I thought it would be. It was sort of sad."

"Yeah, that's what I liked about it."

"And the casting..."

"What about it, I thought it was quite perfect."

"Oh no. Why did she have to have a black boyfriend?"

She was talking of Rose Gooding's partner, played by Malachi Kirby. "If she was living with a black man, in Littlehampton in 1920, that would have been the news."

"But the point was there were other indicators that made her the target - loud, a bit loose, a bit lippy. Her black partner was never mentioned. And does it matter?"

"But they cast a black guy in the part. I found it distracting."

"I didn't. Sure, there's in the time and the like, but it's also a story that's been fictionalised. Does it really matter?"

"And the policewoman (Anjana Varun). I'm sure she wouldn't have been a little Indian woman."

"Again, does it matter?"

"But an Indian woman wouldn't be a policewoman in Littlehampton in 1920."

"But in this fictionalised work, she is."

It was a bit of a circular conversation. And knowing Jay, sometimes it's easier to let things lie. 

"I found it distracting," she countered. 

And rather than say that this is more a reflection of you and how you see the world, I let it go. 

For in a fictionalised world does it matter what colour is the skin of various characters? 

Does it matter what anybody's ethnicity is in the world of film and television? A character is a character and the more diversity we see on the screen, the better. For if you can't see it you can't be it. 

I'll let it go. Maybe our brains are wired a little differently. I can't see the problem of having people of colour play characters in the 1920s England. Inclusion is a good thing. 

Today's song: