British television and British humour are two worlds that go hand in hand. British comedy television contains many representations of various groups, but disability often meets comedy at an intersection where disabled people sit at the butt of cheap jokes: from the severely sight impaired Mr Magoo to the use of mental health problems for comedic gain in Peep Show.
However, done correctly, comedy can challenge prejudice and increase better understanding of representation in society. This is why it is time for comedy commissioners and creators of comedy television to be bold, and to write disabled characters that exist beyond their disability, with lives as complex as able-bodied characters have had for decades. Writers can, and should, go a step further and write dislikeable, morally flawed disabled characters.
With thousands of Brits tuning in to their favourite programmes every week, the mass reach of television has simultaneously become the greatest ally and enemy to disabled people — a single disabled character in a mainstream comedy show can hugely influence audiences' preconceptions of people with disabilities, for better or worse. Oftentimes, poor decisions lead representations to lean towards the worse.
This is not two people moaning about more Political Correctness in comedy. This is how we actually make British comedy fit for purpose for the 21st Century.
THE COMEDY FORM
In comedy shows, particularly sketch-based programmes, many characters are written around one immediately recognisable gimmick. In many ways Monty Python’s Flying Circus, set the template for sketches based around a repeating joke, as they do with the Spanish Inquisitors, whose entire shtick is announcing their arrival because they are the Spanish Inquisition, after all. But where Monty Python laid the foundation, others have followed; from the Fast Show’s character who thinks everything is “Amazing” or the Chuckle Brothers’ ever-recognisable “to me to you” gag.
This simplistic approach to comedy writing can be effective in creating humour, however, it has trickled down into wider forms of comedic television, with countless television programmes writing in disabled characters whose entire existence and evolution revolve around their disability for the sake of a laugh.
DISABLED LIVES ARE MULTIDIMENSIONAL
To allow for disabled characters in comedy to exist on the same level as their non-disabled counterparts, they must have the same level of complexity and depth audiences expect from any given on-screen character.
Netflix’s hit comedy drama series Sex Education presents an array of characters, and introduced Isaac into the cast in the second series. The introduction of a funny, mischievous, and emotive character who uses a wheelchair sees the show depicting disabled people as they should: as complex humans who exist beyond their disability.
Isaac’s character shows multiple roadbumps of teen life; anxiety around unrequited love, the inaccessibility of aesthetically pleasing cottages which are coincidentally the only party destination within the village, and the ability to delete an answerphone message so heartbreaking and pinnacle to the show, that Twitter collectively turn against you behind the fourth wall. With these common, relatable challenges, Isaac is humanised, as he is more than just a “token disabled character”.
JOKE ABOUT DISABLED CHARACTERS WITHOUT JOKING ABOUT THE DISABILITY
Classically speaking, disabled people are hugely infantilised. With ableist stereotypes depicting disabled people as weak, unintelligent, and wholly incapable, a lot of disabled people are seen as sweet and helpless children. To combat this, not only do disabled people need multidimensional representation within television and film: some of them need to be unlikeable.
A great example of this unfavourable character is within the short-lived appearance of Alistair Scott in The Inbetweeners. Casting our minds back to the episode where Alistair appeared in 2010, he was depicted as wrongfully popular amongst everyone whilst he revealed his true unlikable character to the protagonists of the group. The trope that Alistair should be universally liked and seen as an inspirational person is highlighted for comedic effect within the episode, as Alisdair is ultimately revealed to be deeply unlikeable to only Will — the main character — and the audience.
Here we can see the butt of the joke not be the disabled person themself, or, more crucially, their disability, but the stereotypes that are attributed to disability form the punchline. Not only does this make for better and more multidimensional characterisation of a disabled person, but it highlights the nonsense that forms the foundation of ableist stereotypes, allowing the audience to recognise their incoherence and thus unravel their own participation in said stereotypes.
SUBVERTING THE STEREOTYPES
Stand-up comic Rosie Jones also uses this tool within her own work. As a woman with cerebral palsy, she uses brash and dry humour to juxtapose the expectation that she’ll be an introverted, shy, and weak woman. Her outwardly sexual and oftentimes rude comedy allow her to create hilarious sets which allow people to constantly question their preconceived understanding of disabled people; the preconception of disabled people as childlike is at extreme odds with Jones’ outgoing and shocking personality.
For too long disabled people have been represented in a wholly reductionist light. Their disabilities are punch lines and their multidimensional lives within ableist systems are not addressed unless said experiences can be ridiculed. Comedy writers have a responsibility to write characters that minimise the misrepresentation of the group they belong to, whether they are a second-generation immigrant, a posh person from London, or a paraplegic schoolboy.
HERE’S LOOKING TO YOU, COMEDY COMMISSIONERS
Representation on screen is hugely important for many viewers, as some appreciate seeing someone that looks like them on telly while others can learn about people who appear to be different to them. Yet the surface level gimmicks are insufficient, these characters need to grow and interact with others beyond the limitations of their most noticeable trait. In the case of disabled people, they need to be able to exist beyond their disability — they’re people that can be likeable or unlikeable, cunning or sweet, and many other things while happening to be disabled.
The representation of disabled people in comedy needs to be accurate. There needs to be funny people, annoying people, people who are loveable and in love. Disabled people need to be shown as people, all whilst highlighting the multidimensional and intersectional realities of disabled life. Writers should take risks and shouldn’t be afraid of writing unlikeable and morally flawed disabled characters — they’re human, after all.
Bethany Dawson is a freelance journalist writing with a speciality in disability and gender. She’s discussed disability diversity projects on many national platforms, and has discussed her lived experience of disability in a 2018 TEDx Talk with over 11,000 views.
Tobias Soar is a film critic and freelance writer with an academic background in Politics and International Relations. His areas of expertise are popular geopolitics and representation in film and television.
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