The flattening of the Brown Guy on TV

The streaming successes of “Indian Matchmaking,” “Wedding Season” and “Never Have I Ever” is thrilling. But can we talk about the tropes used to depict Indian American men?

Issue #42

Hi all —

The last two weeks have been gold for South Asian American stories on one of the world’s largest media platforms: Netflix. The second season of “Indian Matchmaking,” third season of “Never Have I Ever” and new movie “Wedding Season” all debuted on the popular streaming service.

I binge-watched all of them and they were all fantastic. Much of the world agrees, clearly demonstrated by the sheer audience success driving them to top Netflix lists globally.

All three works include narratives portraying modern spins on matchmaking, dating and relationships (in a mostly Indian, Hindu, heterosexual sense), as Sonia Rao beautifully wrote about in The Washington Post. All three works have amazing Brown women creators behind them, who I truly admire.

But there has been a little part of me screaming inside that I’ve tried to ignore, because it could be an unpopular take in this moment. But I have to say it, as more South Asian American stories take center stage:

Can we talk about the tropes often used to depict Brown men in the United States?

Now I recognize not all pieces of art can do everything for everyone. Every time a South Asian American story comes out on a major platform, there’s the usual criticism that it didn’t fully represent the complexities of South Asian geography, caste, religion, sexuality, socioeconomics or something else. On one hand: Yes, I get that. There are so many stories to tell. But I’m not one to agree with that fully because not every work can do everything for everyone at every single moment. These aren’t Ph.D. dissertations. I see it that each of these stories contributes toward a collection of narratives about the South Asian American experience — each, a wonderful snapshot.

So with that in mind (these works can’t do everything for everyone!), I still want to point out the common Brown Guy tropes I’ve noticed — many of which reinforce unfounded, tired stereotypes about Asian American men in general:

(SPOILER ALERT - the below descriptions reveal plot twists in the shows/movie)

The beta nice guy

Chicago attorney Shekar Jayaraman seen on Netflix’s “Indian Matchmaking.”

The internet largely rallied around Shekar Jayaraman on “Indian Matchmaking,” after Nadia Jagessar dumps Jayaraman for a younger Brown man (though *zing* - she soon gets dumped by that guy) in the latest season. The younger man is depicted as the hotter, alpha male that Jayaraman loses out to. Jayaraman is shown as a “nice guy” who maybe doesn’t make aggressive enough moves to win over Nadia. His respect for women and gentlemanliness is written off by Nadia.

But that shallow beta understanding of Jayaraman is not enough. I was really aching to hear more about Jayaraman’s story and perspective besides that he was screwed over for being Mr. Nice Guy. The man has got more nuance than that in real life, I guarantee. In season three, perhaps? Or might I propose a spinoff?

The screenshot above truly depicts the frustration I personally feel, too, about relationships and the stereotypes that inevitably come into play, even when dating Brown women.

There is some evidence that Black women and Asian men face the most bias on American dating apps and services. In the workplace, some studies have found Asian Americans are often passed over for management roles, not always identified as leaders — sometimes dubbed the “bamboo ceiling.”

Maybe these things would be different if Asian men weren’t depicted often so one-dimensionally in our popular culture?

The savior son/Confused Brown boy

Suraj Sharma plays Ravi on “Wedding Season,” now streaming on Netflix.

I was so glad to see the male protagonist, Ravi (played by Suraj Sharma), in the movie “Wedding Season” pursue a professional path of passion — DJing/music in his case. Of course it was much to the dismay of his parents, who had wanted him to finish his MIT education. We see Ravi struggling to gain full acceptance from his parents for his chosen path — a sort of classic confusion depicted in many diasporic narratives. He’s also shown as the quiet savior of his immigrant parents’ struggling business — the cliché responsibilities of a second-gen son glorified on screen.

Not all Brown parents are so close-minded, status-conscious and materialistic: Heck, my Indian American parents (who came here in the 1970s/1980s) have cheered on my roller coaster of a journalism career every single step of the way. I didn’t have to ever pretend to be a pre-med or engineering major. (Thank you, Amma and Appa.) We are continually seeing more and more Brown kids pursue traditionally “non-traditional” Indian American professional paths in media, entertainment, art, entrepreneurship and politics — and those pursuits are increasingly cheered on, not shunned. We’re not all tortured souls, struggling to come to terms with our professional choices.

Brown male millennials are also often depicted as getting in the way of Brown female millennials’ careers, as is alluded to in some “Indian Matchmaking” participant interviews and with the successful female protagonist in “Wedding Season,” who rebels against her parents forceful wishes to meet someone. Problematic parenting aside, Ravi is seen as a barrier to her growth as a leader in her nonprofit, until she sees how supportive he is of her both personally and professionally.

As a progressive male, raised by a very strong woman as my mother and bold jet-setting woman as my grandmother, I never understand this false dichotomy. It’s something I’ve faced in my own life trying to date Indian American women. If I date you, then I’m sacrificing everything I worked so hard for, is basically a false choice I’ve heard. Why does being with a Brown man in your personal life automatically mean something negative professionally? Most of us (though not all, sadly — “Indian Matchmaking” participant Vinesh is honestly shown as lacking self-awareness, looking for a hot woman who is also perfect just like his mom AND let’s not get started with the bro-y jerk Shake on “Love Is Blind”) see our partners only as equals and not as a barefoot-and-pregnant-in-the-kitchen-making-rotis stereotype of the yesteryears.

Most of us are looking for a partner in life, not a “wife.”

The mama’s boy

Anirudh Pisharody plays Des on the third season of Netflix’s “Never Have I Ever.”

One of the reasons why many of us have loved “Never Have I Ever” has been the complexity with which Maitreyi Ramakrishnan’s female character, Devi, is graced with. She’s honest, smart, sexy, awkward, flawed, horny, warm-hearted, thoughtful, ambitious, a badass — all in one character, much like actual women and men.

So I was so thrilled to see “Never Have I Ever” incorporate a Brown guy into the storyline that partially defied stereotypes in this third season. Actor Anirudh Pisharody depicts the character Des, who is good-looking, intelligent and a cool kid. Devi is swoon that a Brown guy can be smart and sexy, and not just the awkward nerd we often see depicted (i.e. Raj in “Big Bang Theory”). I was even thrilled that the show was so self-aware in recognizing this Brown Guy stereotype:

Maitreyi Ramakrishnan plays Devi, the star and main character in Netflix’s “Never Have I Ever.”

But even though the two characters briefly date — yay, for an on-screen Gen Z Brown people kiss — Des’ mother soon tells her son to stop dating Devi. Des quickly complies and moves on to preparing his move to Stanford for college. Totally agree that was a jerk move to dump Devi. But the “mama’s boy” plot feeds into stereotypes and supports the archaic false dichotomy between a Brown man and his mother vs. girlfriend/wife/partner.

Devi ends up falling into the arms of the smart but charming white boy genius Ben Gross, whose parents are depicted as largely absent. (Doesn’t anyone find that problematic? He’s basically being raised by the housekeeper.) Part-Japanese/part-white heartthrob Paxton Hall-Yoshida is shown as the-hot-boy-who-eventually-has-feelings, living in his parent’s garage, largely consequence-free with little responsibility or accountability.

I’ve previously written about how tired it is to even label people as mama’s boys or daddy’s girls. The Brown guy — Des — is clearly the mother-loving jerk in the end, likely redeeming Devi’s misled, preconceived notions of Indian American men (other than her daddy, of course).

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Again, I’m so thrilled these creative works have made it to such platforms that MILLIONS are watching them. Brown guys have finally graduated from being the terrorist, the taxi driver or the math nerd in American pop culture. But I’m hoping to see Brown men depicted with far more nuance moving forward — just as we’re seeing Brown women like Devi or Bela Malhotra (“The Sex Lives of College Girls” on HBO Max) shown with complexity.

And instead of just complaining about it, I’m going to keep creating and sharing South Asian American stories. I want to hear your thoughts, whether you agree or disagree. Please send a WhatsApp message to 646–481–3221, email us or you can also reach out to me directly via Signal secure messaging if you would like more privacy: 773-599-3717‬.

Thanks for joining the conversation,
Vignesh Ramachandran (@VigneshR)
Co-founder of Red, White and Brown Media

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Recent Twitter Spaces conversations

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• Future lineup TBD — and I’m reflecting on the best ways to engage with you, the community, whether on Spaces and/or elsewhere.

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