Abstract
On November 1, 2022, actor John Leguizamo penned an open letter to Hollywood, in which he railed against the lack of positive representation of Latinos 1 in the film industry. Describing Hollywood as an example of “cultural apartheid,” Leguizamo (2022) argued that Latino projects are rarely produced, and when Latino stories are told, they are often cast with white actors. Leguizamo further argued the lack of Latino executives, development heads, directors, and writers all but ensures the erasure of Latinos in Hollywood.
Dr. Mary Beltrán’s book, Latino TV: A History (NYU Press 2022) provides us with some crucial insight into the industry practices that promote and impede Latino cultural production. Through a combination of archival research, discourse analysis, and interviews with industry practitioners, Beltrán explores the inequities that are inherent within the television production system. According to Beltrán, Latinos have remained scarce on television, especially in lead roles in scripted narratives. When Latino characters do find themselves on screen, they are often depicted in ways that reflect the biases of the dominant group. This finding is ironic because, as Beltrán points out, the industry is concentrated in Los Angeles, a city that skews heavily Latino.
This project builds on Beltrán’s previous research on the representations of Latinos in television and film, beginning with the silent film era of the 1920s. Beltrán’s first book, Latina/o Stars in US Eyes, focused primarily on Latino stardom, but in her new book, Beltrán’s gaze is squarely on the television industry. By focusing on the field of television production, Beltrán provides a nuanced analysis of the specific industry practices that impede the ability for Latino cultural producers to tell their own stories.
Beltrán’s argument is grounded in the concept of Latino cultural citizenship, which she describes as participation in social acts of citizenship that can both empower a group and signal their inclusion in the mainstream. From this perspective, television can serve as an important space where Latinos can understand the nation-state and their place within it. If given access and opportunity, Latinos might even use television to advance alternative visions of the nation, in which they play a substantive role. By addressing the notion of representation and belonging within the context of cultural citizenship, Beltrán’s book builds on longstanding conversations within television studies, including Valdivia’s (2010) argument that the under-representation of Latinos, or their criminalization, marginalization, and sexualization, serve as a form of “symbolic annihilation.”
Beltrán’s project covers seven decades of programming on English language television, and it becomes clear that the industry has historically not served Latinos well. Her analysis begins in the 1950s, when the western genre dominated television screens. As scholars of the genre have rightly pointed out, the western was instrumental in advancing colonial fantasies by marginalizing the Latino and Indigenous peoples who once inhabited those territories. Beltrán shows how television shows, to varying degrees, have advanced this ideology. Shows, such as The Cisco Kid (1950), Zorro (1957), and The Nine Lives of Elfego Baca (1958), may have featured Latino characters, but they were often played by white actors, or presented in ways that de-emphasized their ethnic identity.
As Beltrán points out, however, Latino audiences have never been passive observers of racialized industry practices. In the second chapter, Beltrán deftly traces the efforts of advocacy groups during the late 1960s and early 1970s, such as Justicia, the Council to Advance and Restore the Image of the Spanish Speaking and Mexican American (CARISSMA), and Nosotros, which fought for better Latino representation on television. At times, their efforts paid off, leading to the creation of public policy shows like Realidades (1975), ¡Ahora! (1969), and Periódico (1969) which were intended to engage Latino viewers in civic discourses.
A lack of access to television production is a recurring them in Beltrán’s book, but she does note some progress in the new century, when Latinos and their allies, began to make inroads with successful shows like the George Lopez Show (2002) and Ugly Betty (2006). Beltrán also celebrates more recent shows like Cristela (2014) and Vida (2018), which were created by Latina writers. What distinguishes this newer generation of shows from previous efforts, is the prominence of the Latina gaze, in which Latina writers confront previous patterns of misrepresentation, what she refers to as “Chingona Storytelling.”
Throughout the book, each show serves as a short case study on industry practices, and it is a joy to read how Beltrán places the reader into the social and cultural contexts in which these shows existed. There is less discussion, however, of the technological changes that have profoundly shaped the television industry over time. The era of network television came to an end with the emergence of cable. More recently, the era of cable television has given way to streaming. With each successive change, there have been increased channels of distribution, which in turn, has created more demand for content, and therefore, more opportunities for inclusion. Despite these possibilities, the inclusion of Latino stories remains elusive. These changes are essential to understanding Latino television, as the increasingly fragmented in nature of television complicates the very notion of Latino cultural citizenship. The current landscape is marked by contradictions. There may be more distribution channels available to Latino cultural producers, yet television viewing itself is becoming less and less of a shared experience.
The increasing complexity of the television landscape also makes it difficult to define just what, exactly, is “Latino TV,” and there are some conspicuous absences in this book. For example, there is almost no mention of Univision and Telemundo, Spanish-language networks which have long dominated Latino living rooms. Certainly, these must also be considered Latino TV. Similarly, children’s television gets short shrift. As someone who grew up during the 1970s, I can testify that Sesame Street was most definitely a multi-ethnic space. In more recent years, successful programs such as Nickelodeon’s Dora the Explorer, PBS’ Maya and Miguel, Disney’s Dear Future President, and others suggest that children’s networks are perhaps more astutely aware that the future of television lies in our Latino youth. It is, therefore, more accurate to describe this as a study of English language television programs that have, at times, featured Latino characters and storylines. Still, this focus provides an important vantage point. Latino television is too often conflated with Spanish language television, and as Amaya (2013) points out, within the majoritarian public sphere, English language media is in a much greater position to shape the political agenda and, therefore, notions of collective identity.
Beltrán argues that we need more Latino storytellers, and she displays a clear respect for those Latino cultural producers who have made inroads in this industry. In her opening dedication to the book, Beltrán makes sure to express gratitude to, in her words, “the Latina and Latino writers, producers, actors, and other creative professionals who forged a path as storytellers and performers in the television industry when none existed, and to all of those who follow. Thank you for helping me recognize, love, and laugh at ourselves on the screen, and especially to dream.” At times, however, Beltrán’s deference to Latino television producers, appears to limit her analysis. As told in Latino TV: A History, there are clear heroes and villains. Certainly, the biases that exist within the Hollywood system are well documented, but the contradictions that are inherent within the field of television production are left under-explored. Beltrán’s argument is predicated on the belief that greater Latino access will equate to more insightful, relevant stories, but previous research suggests that the issue of authorship is complicated business. As Smith-Shomade’s (2004) study of Black Entertainment Television points out, minority ownership does not necessarily guarantee better, more positive representation if it still produced within the dominant system of production.
Despite these few limitations, Latino TV: A History is essential reading, not only for scholars of Latino Media Studies, but for those studying television, or cultural production generally. Beltrán’s book is in conversation with other media scholars such as Frederick Luis Aldama, Isabel Molina-Guzmán, Angharad Valdivia, Beretta Smith-Shomade, Kristal Brent Zook and many other scholars who study the field of television production as a site of racial struggle. Beltrán’s concluding chapter, “Dear Hollywood:” The Ongoing Struggle for Latina/o Television is written as a sort of personal reflection on the state of the industry. Here, Beltrán laments the continued lack of progress in Hollywood, yet she still finds some optimism in that fact that Latino-oriented shows are becoming more complex and nuanced. Ultimately, Beltrán’s book is a clear reminder that progress is rarely a linear path forward, but often filled with stops and starts. The path toward progress is circuitous.