Lights, Camera, Representation: Opening Doors for Disability in Hollywood

On Sunday, the world’s biggest celebrities will head to Los Angeles to attend the film industry’s most prestigious awards ceremony. They’ll don their finest garments and walk the red carpet before settling down in the Dolby Theatre to see who takes home an Oscar at the 97th Academy Awards ceremony. 

For anyone with love of film, it’s an exciting time—the speculation, the discussion, the snubs, and the upsets. However, for anyone with a love of film who also lives with a disability, it can be a bitter-sweet experience.

Globally, one in six people—16 percent of the world’s population—lives with a disability. In the United States, home to arguably the world’s most influential film industry, that number is one in four. However, only between 3.1  and 4.1 percent of on-screen characters have disabilities, with even fewer portraying those with visible disabilities. Consequently, people with disabilities are 34 percent more likely than the general population to feel underrepresented on screen.

Hollywood’s disability representation problem

Since the Academy Awards began nearly 100 years ago, only three actors with disabilities have taken home the little gold man: Harold Russell in 1947 for The Best Years of Our Lives, Marlee Matlin in 1987 for Children of a Lesser God, and Troy Kotsur in 2022 for CODA. During that same period, 25 actors without disabilities have won the award for playing a role with a disability.

While no actors with disabilities were nominated for major awards this year, the highly anticipated Wicked film adaptation received 10 nominations, including Best Picture. Its casting directors chose to fill the land of Oz with characters of diverse shapes, sizes, and ethnicities. They also cast Marissa Bode and Cesily Collete Taylor in the adult and child roles of Nessarose. For the first time in more than 20 years of stage productions, the role—written for a wheelchair user—was played by actresses who use wheelchairs.

Cripping-up: When non-disabled actors play characters with disabilities 

In recent years, increasing attention has been paid to both the screen time given to characters with disabilities and the actors who portray them. Cripping-up—casting a non-disabled actor in a role written for a visibly disabled character—has come under scrutiny.

Cripping-up is not always done with ill intent or poor results. As a wheelchair user, I have enjoyed films featuring characters with mobility impairments played by able-bodied actors. The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is a thought-provoking adaptation that captures the essence of Jean-Dominique Bauby’s memoir. In The Theory of Everything, Eddie Redmayne embodies Stephen Hawking in a performance Hawking himself praised. Meanwhile, Intouchables invites viewers into the high jinks and disappointments shared by two men whose patient-carer relationship evolves into a deep friendship.

Still, decades of telling the stories about individuals with disabilities without involving the disability community have led to overwhelmingly inauthentic and inaccurate portrayals on screen, with cripping-up contributing to the problem. Casting actors with disabilities not only ensures a voice from the disability community present on set, but it also brings the authenticity of lived experience to the role, which no level of observation or research can truly capture. 

The unique challenges of actors with disabilities

Cripping-up also perpetuates a cycle which makes it difficult for actors with disabilities to find work. Because studies prioritise box office returns, they often cast well-known able-bodied actors in leading roles, regardless of whether the character has a disability. As a result, actors unintentionally take opportunities away from their counterparts with disabilities, hindering their ability to build a reputation and become a box-office draw. 

Another challenge is the scarcity of actors with disabilities in roles where the character simply happens to have a disability, rather than those where their identity—or the entire plot—revolves around it.

In the 1994 film Four Weddings and a Funeral, David Bower played Hugh Grant’s brother after screenwriter Richard Curtis fought to cast a deaf actor in the role, (which Curtis had scripted as deaf). Bower later said that he was still occasionally recognised for the part and that when people ask why he gave up film acting, he had to explain, “I didn’t give it up. I just couldn’t find the parts. I’m hoping that one day deaf actors will be able to play all kinds of roles, not just deaf people.”

Shaping perceptions through incidental portrayal and authentic representation

The problem that Bower identified—the absence of incidental portrayal— contributes to the lack of on-screen representation of what it means to live an ordinary life with disability. In one survey, fifty-two percent of people with disabilities were more likely than the general public to say that their on-screen portrayal is inaccurate. In another, 78 percent of respondents stressed the importance of authentic storytelling. 

Hollywood has a history of depicting people with disabilities as helpless victims or as inspirational heroes who “overcame their struggles.” Regardless of their intentions, these story arcs often lead to flat characters and inauthentic representation. Creating compelling, accurate narratives requires more than just changing casting choices: more people with disabilities need to be involved as storytellers, collaborators, and creators and not just as tools for others’ creativity. 

Despite the casting of able-bodied actors, both The Diving Bell and the Butterfly and Intouchables were based on memoirs in which the authors told their own stories of living with a disability. This at least gave those involved in the films’ creation access to first-person accounts from their protagonists. (Notably, however, Intouchables has been remade three times—in India, Argentina, and the US—as recently as 2017, and a wheelchair user has never been cast in the lead role.)

Writers, producers, directors—we need greater involvement from the disability community behind the scenes. A lack of representation at decision-making level results in oversight, inaccuracy, and invisibility. I experienced the same issues when advocating for more accessible taxis in Ireland. The problem wasn’t a lack of concern; it was a lack of awareness. No one on the taxi advisory committee board had a visible disability. 

To create authentic stories, the entertainment industry needs to prioritise engaging with disability advocacy groups and hiring individuals with disabilities into decision-making roles, giving them a seat at the table. 

Progress towards inclusive representation

To be fair, a lot of progress has been made. Both BBC Studios and Netflix have formed partnerships to increase the participation of creatives with disabilities in content production. In directing Wicked, Jon M. Chu didn’t just insist on an accessible set for Bode and Taylor: he had universal design principles incorporated in the set design, resulting in discreet ramps that enhanced the fantastical land of Oz. On television, shows like This Close and Speechless feature main characters with disabilities where their impairments are part of the story but not the whole story. In their roles on the popular series Breaking Bad and Sex Education, George Robinson and RJ Mitte play complex, fully developed characters who navigate adolescent and familial obstacles unrelated to their disabilities. As Mitte explained, “It’s part of his everyday lifestyle[...] the disability is just there—there’s no rhyme or reason. People have these physical ailments.”

Showing individuals with disabilities as people with rich and complicated lives has a positive effect on both the disability community and society as a whole. After all, representation shapes not only how we see ourselves but also how others see us.

Studies show that when children who see themselves reflected positively in role models and in the media, they gain confidence, perform better academically, and develop stronger mental well-being. Improving on-screen disability representation could have a profound impact on children with disabilities, particularly in children’s television, where representation currently stands at only one percent.

Exposure shapes perceptions and reduces bias. Increasing accurate disability representation in film and television can foster understanding, challenge stigma, and influence how people interact with the disability community. A lack of visibility—reinforced by media underrepresentation—can leave individuals feeling uncertain or hesitant when engaging with people with disabilities.

For centuries, individuals with disabilities were sent away, institutionalised, or hidden from public view, deepening both stigma and a sense of “foreignness.” In some countries, because of limited government support and cultural attitudes, similar practices persist today, leaving many individuals with disabilities housebound.

Last year, while travelling in India, I noticed many people staring at me. I realised that most had never seen a quadriplegic, let alone one navigating the city independently in a wheelchair. Historically, Bollywood films have often depicted individuals with disabilities as villains or victims, with impairments themselves used for comedy, tragedy, or punishment. However, more recently, Bollywood has begun to portray characters with disabilities more authentically and to feature actors with disabilities—a promising shift for the world’s largest film industry.

Beyond these social benefits, including authentic voices and representation in film enriches storytelling, making for deeper, more compelling narratives and better entertainment.

CODA, the winner of the 2022 Academy Award for Best Picture, received critical acclaim for its screenplay and its performances. It’s a poignant, charming film with deaf characters played by deaf actors. However, the decision to cast deaf actors only came after Marlee Matlin, an award-winning, internationally recognised deaf actress, threatened to drop out of the film unless the financiers abandoned their plan to cast only hearing actors in the remaining deaf roles. The result? Troy Kotsur was cast as Frank Rossi, a role for which he translated the English script into American Sign Language, improvised unique and hilarious dialogue, delivered an emotionally powerful performance as a loving yet conflicted father, and took home the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor.