On the fact that most disabled characters in film are played by people who identify as nondisabled-- I've thought about this a bit for a piece on the intersection of disability studies and film studies that I wrote for Disability Studies Quarterly (coming out in an issue this year): Certainly almost all the disabled characters in film from the beginning have been played by nondisabled actors. But you might remember the silent short in which a man is run over by a car, resulting in a supposedly comical dismemberment but not death--a real double-leg amputee played that character; the "freaks" in *Freaks* were famously disabled themselves; also, a couple of weeks ago a disabled man played a disabled character in an "ER" episode on television, so maybe things are changing a bit. Of course, the currently most famous example of a disabled person playing same in film is Marlee Matlin playing a deaf woman in *Children of a Lesser God*. By the way, she portrayed a hearing woman in a made-for-tv-movie--so things can even go both ways. I think the star system has something to do with the fact that so many d/a characters get the nondisabled star treatment: Dustin Hoffman, Tom Hanks, Audrey Hepburn, etc. We think of disability as the ultimate difference, and therefore the ultimate acting challenge for a nondisabled person. To remake oneself in the image of a disabled person is to imagine oneself at the very end (even the bottom) of the spectrum of difference--both physical and mental. I also think that nondisabled audience members gain a sense of security in knowing that the actor will change back to his/her "normal", "whole" self at the end of the performance. Speaking of "performance", Kaja Silverman has some interesting things to say about the problems of disabled people playing disabled characters in her book on male masochism. She discusses the role of the actor who plays the double-arm amputee war vet in *Home of the Brave* (hope I'm remembering the correct film title--I've blanked on the actor's name): having him reveal the stumps of his own really amputated arms in one of the film's climactic scenes raises some problems as well as solving others. How do we deal with the kind of misguided pathos and pity that such a "performance" of real physical difference brings about? Certainly, we have different roles for disabled characters now, and that is one thing that is necessary for change to come about. (But the *ER* episode struck me as still not quite the right way to go.) One more point about why so few disabled actors in films: the movie industry still hasn't come around to see disabled people (probably the largest minority group in the country) as a market segment (which shows up in the fact that so many cinema theater showings are physically inaccessible in a variety of ways), and therefore doesn't consider them when casting parts. The hiring of disabled actors/directors/staff would be, I think, a great incentive for the disabled movie-going public to come out to see or hear a film. A final anecdote on that point. I co-directed a conference on disability and the arts here at the University of Michigan, and when I approached the local not-for-profit movie theater with the prospect of showing a few disability-related films (*When Billy Broke His Head and Other Tales of Wonder*, by Billy Golfus; and *In the Land of the Deaf*, a french film; to name two possibilities), he said he couldn't do that because he had to be sure to fill up his theater with viewers. @$**^@! A month later, the place was packed when he showed *When Billy Broke...*. I felt slightly vindicated. Other thoughts? Susan Crutchfield University of Michigan ---- To sign off SCREEN-L, e-mail [log in to unmask] and put SIGNOFF SCREEN-L in the message. Problems? Contact [log in to unmask]