{"id":6683,"date":"2017-03-13T08:00:39","date_gmt":"2017-03-13T12:00:39","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/?p=6683"},"modified":"2018-06-28T13:38:56","modified_gmt":"2018-06-28T17:38:56","slug":"get-out-and-the-overlap-of-disability-and-racism","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/get-out-and-the-overlap-of-disability-and-racism\/","title":{"rendered":"‘Get Out’ and the Overlap of Disability and Racism"},"content":{"rendered":"

Jordan Peele\u2019s horror-comedy Get Out <\/i>is breaking new ground for its blunt, satirical take on the current state of race relations. But what many fail to notice amid the stark social commentary is Peele\u2019s parallel presentation of disability alongside institutional racism. <\/span><\/p>\n

Disabled characters and people of color walk a similar path in Hollywood, both often boiled down to basic components meant to perpetuate Hollywood\u2019s ideal of perfection as being white and able-bodied. Thus African-Americans become savage villains, and disabled people are child-like burdens. In several cases, like George Romero\u2019s Night of the Living Dead<\/i> \u2014 a film Peele has cited as an influence \u2014 or the recent Me Before You<\/i>, death is often the only \u201csaving grace\u201d for being non-white or disabled. <\/span><\/p>\n

Where the two minorities are often intertwined is as a source of inspiration. You can trace the Angelic Cripple\u2019s origins to the most famous handicapper in popular culture, Tiny Tim in Charles Dickens\u2019 A Christmas Carol<\/i>. The Angelic Cripple elicits sympathy from the able-bodied audience, acting as a reminder that they should appreciate their bodies and thank God they aren\u2019t suffering a similar fate. Often these characters are overly kind-hearted, with their sweetness and disabled status giving them a front-row seat to Heaven when they die (and they usually must die before the end credits). It\u2019s a concept that hasn\u2019t gone away, rehashed in countless films from the Christ-like Jake Sully in Avatar<\/i> to the simple-minded Lenny in Of Mice and Men<\/i>. <\/span><\/p>\n

Conversely, there\u2019s the Magical Negro, a black character whose sole purpose is to aid the white protagonist in achieving their goals. Examples are varied, ranging from Will Smith in The Legend of Bagger Vance <\/i>to Michael Clarke Duncan\u2019s John Coffey in The Green Mile<\/i> (which actually combines the Magical Negro trope with the Angelic Cripple) In both cases, the disabled and the African-American are utilized only so far as the white and able-bodied hero wishes them to be. Once these characters serve their purpose, they\u2019re shuffled loose of their mortal coils or sent back to their initial conditions, happier and wiser for being \u201cof use.\u201d In both genres, these problems are defects and imperfections that the white, able-bodied protagonist would be lucky to avoid.<\/span><\/p>\n

Peele\u2019s combination is subtle. The emphasis is rightfully on white privilege and racism, but adding in the blind gallery owner, Jim Hudson (Stephen Root), compels the two minorities to duke it out for space in the narrative and reiterate that both are commodified for white consumption. <\/span><\/p>\n

When Chris (Daniel Kaluuya) and Jim first meet, Peele situates it as a meeting of two men \u2014 and two filmic tropes \u2014 airing their grievances. Jim situates his blindness alongside Chris\u2019 race, citing it as a defect of their genetics. Jim\u2019s blindness has manifested late in his life, allowing him the privilege of both being a white man as well as someone who has enjoyed the \u201cperks\u201d of being able-bodied, so even a disabled person sees the fallacy of his statement. It\u2019s easy to consider disability a defect when one has presumably lived a happy life prior to its arrival. This continues the Hollywood belief that only an able-bodied audience will respond to a person who was once \u201clike them,\u201d i.e., able-bodied and struck down in their prime. It doesn\u2019t seem as if Peele is falling into stereotypes of his own, so much as calling them to the table. Ironically, this further emphasizes Peele\u2019s exploration of race. Jim sees appropriating Chris\u2019 culture as beneficial in two ways: to be in vogue, and to return to the able-bodied, sighted life he was denied. <\/span><\/p>\n

Peele aligns the use of black bodies and able-bodied ability outside the dynamic between Chris and Jim. Dean (Bradley Whitford), the father of Chris\u2019 girlfriend, explains how his own father was bested in the Olympics by Jesse Owens. Later, when Chris is outside, the groundskeeper sprints towards him \u2014 later revealed to be his girlfriend\u2019s grandfather in a new body. In many cinematic portrayals of disability, old age becomes the \u201cnatural\u201d route, the \u201cwe\u2019ll all be disabled someday\u201d concept often trotted out to disabled people. Peele shows how the able-bodied commodify bodies to avoid the self-assumed horrors of disability.<\/span><\/p>\n

It would certainly be easier to believe in a world where disability is eradicated, but as it aligns with race it too often conjures up questions of extermination. Get Out <\/i>shows the appropriation of black bodies as a means of eliminating white awkwardness and asserting control. Adding disability to the mix opens up the door to eradicating those already hobbled with one, with both methods devolving into the all-too-authentic assumption of a master race of white, able-bodied people. A world scarier than we ever could have imagined.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Kristen Lopez<\/a> lives in Sacramento.<\/em><\/p>\n