The furore over black British actors in Hollywood is unnecessary

By A.H.

LAST month, Samuel L. Jackson drew attention to a little-known schism in the black community. Speaking of the decision to cast Daniel Kaluuya, a British actor, in the American horror-comedy “Get Out”, Mr Jackson said that he wondered “what that movie would have been with an American brother who really feels that [racism]. Daniel grew up in a country where they’ve been interracial dating for a hundred years. What would a brother from America have made of that role?” His claim that black Britons do not experience prejudice in the same way as black Americans—and that this inevitably changes their approach to Hollywood roles about the black experience—shocked many, especially as it came from the mouth of someone considered a trailblazer for black actors. Devere Rogers, another actor, echoed Mr Jackson’s sentiment: “we as Americans can’t tell our own stories?”

To be sure, the histories of the two countries are not completely congruous. Slavery and Jim Crow taught black Americans to distrust their government and institutions of power. Incidents of police brutality have further eroded public confidence: a report from the Pew Research Institute found that 46% of black Americans had “very little confidence in their local police to treat blacks and whites equally” in 2014, up from 34% in 2009. That figure may well be even higher today.

For black Britons, on the other hand, the memories of slavery are more distant. Many Afro-Caribbean immigrants arrived in Britain after the second world war, having fought on behalf of the crown, but they, too, found that acceptance was slow. Enoch Powell, a Conservative politician renowned for his anti-immigrant rhetoric, stated that “the West Indian or Asian does not, by being born in England, become an Englishman. In law he becomes a United Kingdom citizen by birth; in fact he is a West Indian or an Asian still.” Today, police brutality does not occupy a central role in the public discourse; that is not to say that it does not happen.

Indeed, being black in Birmingham, West Midlands offers some of the same challenges as being black in Birmingham, Alabama. The wage gap between black and white Americans is wider than it was in 1979, according to a report by the Economic Policy institute. In Britain, black university graduates are paid 23% less per hour than white graduates, according to the Trades Union Congress. Racial profiling is present in both countries, as are discrepancies in access to education and health care.

It should go as no surprise, then, that actors like David Harewood, David Oyelowo and Idris Elba can move between playing American and British characters troubled by racism (Mr Harewood has suggested that they may even have an advantage: “we…have the ability to unshackle ourselves from the burden of racial realities—and simply play what’s on the page, not what’s in the history books”). Whether he’s playing a business-savvy drug lord in inner-city Baltimore (“The Wire”), a brilliant but flawed London detective (“Luther”) or a working professional in rural Pennsylvania subject to the jibes of a witless boss (the American version of “The Office”), Mr Elba can likely draw on a pool of frustrations and emotions. His background growing up in a working-class immigrant community in Hackney, East London wasn’t as privileged as his American contemporaries would make out.

Similarly, that Mr Kaluuya convincingly conveyed the struggle with a more subtle—yet equally insidious—form of racism in “Get Out” suggests that national boundaries don’t fully delineate experiences. “In order to prove that I can play this role, I have to open up about the trauma that I’ve experienced as a black person,” Mr Kaluuya complained. He pointed to the historical animosity shown towards black people in Britain, as well as their treatment in parts of London today, as evidence that Mr Jackson’s dichotomy was a false one. “I resent that I have to prove that I’m black,” Mr Kaluuya said.

To an extent, the debate misses the point: Mr Jackson’s conflation of eligibility for a role with experience is an unnecessary one. Actors should be awarded roles based on merit rather than citizenship or ancestry; there is no real reason why an American could give a more nuanced performance than a Briton. British actors are storming Hollywood not through some sort of conspiracy, but rather because they are good at their craft; Jordan Peele, the American director of “Get Out”, said that he cast Mr Kaluuya because he was “the best person for the role. He did the audition and it was a slam dunk.” Instead of infighting, detractors should strive to bring more stories about the black experience to the screen—then there will be ample opportunity for both British and American actors to thrive.