America on Film. Sean Griffin

it also includes an Arab American FBI agent. Furthermore, the film eerily presages the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks by dramatizing both a growth of racism against Arab Americans as well as America’s willingness to rescind personal liberties guaranteed under the Constitution.

      Another film that seemed almost designed to inflame prejudices against Middle Easterners and people of Middle Eastern descent was Not Without My Daughter (1991). Based on a true story, the film is about an all‐American (that is, white) woman played by Sally Field who marries an Iranian American man and begins a family. He convinces her to make a visit to his homeland, which turns into a permanent stay. In an extreme example of the supposed inability to assimilate, the husband “reverts” to Islamic fundamentalism, much to the shock and fear of his wife. He is willing to let her go, but not his daughter, whom he regards as Iranian and not American. The rest of the film entails the wife’s attempt to escape the country with her daughter. The film and its relevance to Middle Eastern cultures remain hotly debated on fan‐based websites: some maintain it is an accurate depiction of how women are treated in some Middle Eastern nations, while others see it as negative stereotyping at its worst.

      During the 1990s, growing groups of American citizens such as the ADC (the American‐Arab Anti‐Discrimination Committee) began to protest these types of media stereotypes. They picketed films like The Siege and Rules of Engagement, handing out leaflets challenging the films’ portrayal of Muslim and Arab cultures. An even more vociferous action was waged against the use of stereotypes in Disney’s Aladdin (1992). Disney eventually agreed to rewrite some offensive song lyrics, but not to eliminate or alter other scenes – and the studio continued to use Arab stereotypes for comic effect in live‐action pictures such as Father of the Bride II (1995) and Kazaam (1996). Such protests against media stereotyping have continued into the twenty‐first century, but the events of 11 September 2001, seemed to give terrifying credence to the “accuracy” of the terrorist stereotype. Of course, most Muslim and/or Arab Americans have nothing to do with terrorism, yet they have been subjected to increased surveillance, random hate crimes, and continued stereotyping and profiling. Many Americans seemingly make no distinction between Arabs, Arab Americans, and Muslim terrorists. The United States itself was content to invade Iraq in alleged retaliation for the September 11 attacks, despite the fact that Iraq had few‐to‐no connections with the international terrorists who caused them.

Occasional independent or Hollywood films such as Party Girl (1995), American Dreamz (2006), Towelhead (2007), Amreeka (2009), and the documentary American Arab (2013) try to individuate Arab Americans characters and issues. Still, Hollywood seems much more comfortable with images of mythical exoticism on display in films like Gods of Egypt (2016) and the Aladdin remake (2019). Orientalism combines with the terrorist stereotype in American blockbusters like the “historical” action film 300 (2006), which cast white British actors as heroic Spartans battling hordes of (literally) monstrous, dark‐skinned, and sexually perverse Persians. The film seemed almost designed to exploit and capitalize on post 9/11 anti‐Arab and anti‐Muslim feelings in American culture; its grotesque stereotyping encourages audiences to hate and fear its Persian characters while simultaneously inflaming and justifying white masculine violence. Although the film was protested by media activists and the Iranian government itself, the film’s sequel 300: Rise of an Empire (2014) mines similar ground. And Arab terrorists remain front and center in the few Hollywood films that do attempt to engage with the actual wars in the Middle East, such as The Kingdom (2007), The Hurt Locker (2008), Zero Dark Thirty (2012), and American Sniper (2014). Perhaps in an attempt to balance these portrayals, a few other post‐9/11 films, such as Crash (2004) and Babel (2006) included more empathetic Arab or Persian characters in attempts to convey the complex, interwoven impact individuals can have on each other’s lives across cultures. Yet, even in these films, these characters were given less screen time than the “white” characters (played by bigger name stars such as Matt Dillon and Brad Pitt).

      Against this complex socio‐political backdrop, it is perhaps no surprise that Arab and/or Arab American actors in Hollywood have not had an easy time finding challenging or complex characters to play. One of the first actors of openly Arab descent to make a name for himself was Omar Sharif, who was an Egyptian film star before his performance in Lawrence of Arabia earned him an Oscar nomination and catapulted him to international fame. After his lead role as Dr Zhivago (1965), he played leading men in several Hollywood films including Funny Girl and Funny Lady (1975). Sharif continued his acting career in mostly European films and passed away in 2015. American actors of Lebanese heritage such as Danny Thomas, Jamie Farr, and Casey Kasem have worked more regularly in television and radio. Thomas was the star of the popular sitcom Make Room for Daddy (1953–65), Farr played the cross‐dressing Corporal Klinger in the TV show M*A*S*H (1972–83), and Kasem had a decades‐long career as a successful radio host and voice‐over artist, performing the voice of Shaggy in the long‐running Scooby‐Doo cartoons. Another actor of Lebanese descent (though born in Wisconsin) is Tony Shalhoub. He has consistently found work on the Broadway stage, winning a Tony award for The Band’s Visit (2017), on television (Wings [1990–1997], Monk [2002–2009]), and as a character actor in Hollywood films including Galaxy Quest (1999), the first three Spy Kids films (2001, 2002, 2003), and the Cars franchise (2006, 2011, 2016). Most recently, actor Rami Malek (of Egyptian heritage) has won accolades for his lead role in Mr. Robot (2015–2018) as well as an Academy Award for playing Freddie Mercury (who was of Persian heritage) in the musical biopic Bohemian Rhapsody (2018).

Other successful actors of Arab descent include F. Murray Abraham (who won an Oscar for his role as Salieri in Amadeus [1984]), Shohreh Aghdashloo (who garnered an Oscar nomination for her role as an Iranian immigrant in House of Sand and Fog [2003]), Alexander Siddig (Dr. Bashir on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine [1993–9]), and Kathy Najimy (Sister Act [1992], Hocus Pocus [1993]). It should be noted, though, that many actors of Middle Eastern heritage are still regularly cast as terrorists or sheiks; if they want to work, they are sometimes compelled to accept those roles. Also, many still feel compelled to alter or change their Arabic‐sounding names in order to work in the business. For example, F. Murray Abraham’s birth name is Fahrid Murray Abraham; the actor’s official stage name potentially hides his Middle Eastern heritage.

Rami Malek in his Oscar‐winning role as Queen vocalist Freddie Mercury in Bohemian Rhapsody (2018).

Conclusion: Whiteness and American Film Today

      Whiteness is still the unspoken ideal in American movies. Yet, as our society continues to become more diverse, so too do our movie screens. During the 1990s, multiculturalism was increasingly endorsed and/or celebrated in America, culminating in the Federal Census Bureau allowing people to check off more than one racial category for the first time in 2000. Possibly in response, many people who regarded themselves as white in the 1990s began reconnecting to their ethnic heritages, taking pride in their Irish, Italian, or other roots. The rise of racially and ethnically diverse sitcoms in recent years – including Everybody Loves Raymond (1996–2005), Everybody Hates Chris (2005–09), The Goldbergs (2013–), Black‐ish (2014–), Fresh off the Boat (2015–), The Real O’Neals (2016–17), and Mixed‐ish (2019–) – seem to acknowledge this trend. That said, the last ten years has also seen the return of white nationalist discourses to mainstream American politics, suggesting that many white Americans feel threatened or frightened by these developments. As the nation continues to diversify in terms of race and ethnicity – a situation that most demographers acknowledge is happening – hopefully such overt displays of violent white supremacy will be pushed back into the margins of American society where they belong.

Nonetheless, actors, like all Americans, are