In every successful movie that involves racism, there’s at least one wonderful white character or hero.
The 1989 historical Civil War drama “Glory” was about the first all-Black infantry regiment and its trials and tribulations. At one point, the men learn that there’s an order they be returned to slavery. And that Black soldiers found in uniform will be executed.
The movie features multiple white characters who are out to harm these Black soldiers. That is, except Matthew Broderick’s character, who saves the day.
In 2013, “Selma” hit the big screens. It’s about a free Black man who is abducted in New York and sold into slavery. While the film is about Black civil rights giants, it also features white heroes, Lee C. White, an advisor to Presidents Kennedy and Johnson, and John Doar, the Assistant Attorney General, who are essential allies of the movement. There’s also James Reeb, a white minister who was murdered fighting for civil rights.
The classic 1962 film “To Kill a Mockingbird” is all about a widowed white lawyer who defends a Black man against false charges of rape.
In “The Help,” a 2011 film about an aspiring white author during the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s writing about Black domestic help’s experiences working for white families. Skeeter, the white writer, tries to understand the Black experience so she can write about them. Portrayed as empathetic, it is her voice that actually outshines Black voices of the domestic help experience.
Even in the Jackie Robinson film, “42,” Harrison Ford plays Dodgers executive, Rickey, who is a hero figure in the story. Rickey’s role as a catalyst for change is significant, and he is portrayed as a courageous white leader who faced resistance to integrate the sport.
In 2025, the brilliant film “Sinners” even includes one white woman who is considered family among the Black community. The film made sure to include at least one good white person.
You show me a film involving race, and I’ll point out the good white person. And in most cases, a hero.
So we’re clear, there are obviously real white people in real life who’ve stood by, stood up for, and defended Black people. There are white people in real life who are considered family in Black circles. There are white people who have fought for their Black brothers and sisters. There are white people who marched with Dr. King. Some even died for the cause.
But also in real life, Black people know all too well that oftentimes they are left fending for themselves. Without enough real allies or partners. Not enough people willing to risk or give up anything to drastically alter our lopsided systems.
The incessant inclusion of white heroes and good white people in every film about race gives us white people a convenient out to not have to look in our own mirrors.
When we white folks see these films, we unconsciously tell ourselves, “Oh, if I lived in the 1960s in Alabama, I would’ve been the lawyer defending Black people wrongfully charged.” “I would have been Matthew Broderick in Glory.” I would’ve been Gene Hackman in Mississippi Burning.” I would’ve been the one good white girl in “Sinners.”
“No way I would’ve been the racist agitator. No way I would’ve stayed silent or on the sidelines.”
The collective impact of these unabated positive white images in films about race is that white folks never have to feel uncomfortable about our nation’s history and the benefits and privileges white people have as a result. We can just compartmentalize everything.
Instead of seeing the raw unjust and lopsided racist systems for what they are, we can just go on believing what most of us do — that there are racists and there are good people. And, well, I’m on the good side. Down with those bad racists. I’m so proud I’m not one of them, we tell ourselves.
We don’t have to change. We don’t have to see our own racist flaws. We don’t have to self-examine. We don’t have to take a moment to see how maybe we have a lot of room for improvement when it comes to our behavior, insufficient empathy and our pervasive silence.
We get to remain in our own minds Matthew Broderick. The hero. Or at worst, Hailee Steinfeld in Sinners. One of the decent white ones.
All of this is why the 1995 film “White Man’s Burden” bombed at the box office and was criticized by reviewers.
With a dismal 24% on Rotten Tomatoes, the film starring John Travolta and Harry Belafonte shows us an alternative society where the races are flipped. Black people are the ones holding most of the power. Black people hold most of the wealth. Black people live in the nice neighborhoods. And white folks are marginalized. They’re shit on. They’re looked as less than. They confront crime-ridden neighborhoods.
The bad reviews were largely cryptic, likely because white reviewers couldn’t put their finger on why exatctly they didn’t like the film.
The New York Times, which gave the movie 2 out of 5 stars, called the film “an emotionally frozen exercise in cautious high-mindedness.” Huh?
Rolling Stone called it a “noble experiment,” but bizarrely decided to give it bad review because it “didn’t have enough drama.” All while the Arizona Daily Star accused the film of being too melodramatic.
The liberal Washington Post called the film, “under-imagined.” Whatever that means.
Roger Ebert said that “no one interested in a film about racial stereotyping in America wants to sit through chase scenes.”
Translation, he means nobody white wants to sit through it.
The San Francisco Examiner came the closest to admitting what ails the film. That it makes white people uncomfortable, calling the parodying of cliches that white people use to denigrate Black people, “silly.”
So we’re clear about what makes all these movie reviewers feel yucky, in one scene, a white man is making a delivery in a wealthy Black neighborhood and is stopped by police. What are you doing here!
Another scene shows wealthy Black people at a charity event watching poor white kids on stage. “Oh, they’re so cute,” one wealthy Black woman quips as her fellow Black donors all smile in delight.
The movie forces white folks to finally see a little bit of what it looks like to be in Black skin in America.
And so white reviewers and white moviegoers gave a resounding thumbs down.
How dare you shine a bright light on our behavior.
I want movies with white heroes like me.
This post originally appeared on Medium and is edited and republished with author's permission. Read more of Jeffrey Kass' work on Medium.