Latinx Representation in Disney: By: Abigail Young and Ainsley Knox

Beverly Hills Chihuahua

Disney has had a long tradition of making both live-action and animated children’s movies that are specifically created for children (as opposed to having children be one of the many target demographics). Such movies are typically set in more realistic or historical settings, which means that there is more ability to represent different races and ethnicities in these movie worlds. Despite this opportunity, Disney’s movies are still lacking in representation and have smaller, problematic moments that while fleeting, as easily imprinted into young children’s minds, resulting in the build-up of stereotypes of Latinx people. And the rare moments of representation are often highly problematic.

In 2008, Walt Disney Pictures released a motion picture called Beverly Hills Chihuahua. It was not well-received by critics to say the least (add numbers). This critical failure is a result of the stereotypes that the movie not only buys into but actively and deliberately perpetuates. In this movie, the cynical exploitation of Mexican culture just for Disney to make a few million dollars is so obvious, and the xenophobia, racism, fetishization, and general anti-Latinx sentiment is so intricately interwoven into the story that it is almost comical. And yes, this movie is supposed to be a comedy, but the basis of the humor should not be at the expense of Chicano, Mexican, and Mexican-American people and history.

In the story of Beverly Hills Chihuahua, there is a snobby rich (and white) female Chihuahua named Chloe who is dognapped in Mexico and must be rescued by Papi, a brown Mexican-American Chihuahua who has an unrequited crush on her. In addition, there is a parallel romance between Chloe’s owner’s rich white niece and the gardener, a Mexican-American man.

In this movie, there are no main characters who are Latina (or in particular Mexican) women, despite the fact that a significant portion of the movie is set. Not only are most of the Latino characters in the movie actually dogs, but these dogs perpetuate stereotypes.

For example, there is Papi, whose sole motivation is to win the heart of the white female dog. Though this is portrayed as heroic in the movie, and Papi is technically the protagonist, it still has undertones of the mentality that brown and black men, particularly Mexican immigrants, are “after” the innocent white women. This mentality inevitably perpetuates and is a so-called “justification” for widespread racist and xenophobic attitudes. In addition, other stereotypes include the aggressive, fighting Latino, who is embodied by the character of El Diablo, an Argentinian-Bolivian Doberman Pinscher, who is the antagonist of the movie. This also perpetuates the misconception that Latino men are aggressive and criminals.

In addition to these two particular stereotypes, this movie fetishizes and objectifies Latino men. Like all minorities, Latinx individuals, regardless of gender identity, are fetishized and objectified by those in power, which means white people, especially those at the top of the power structure. In this movie, the white women and dogs are the ones with the money while the Latino men and dogs are poor and work for these privileged women. They serve as the love interest for these white women, which connotes the stereotype of the “Latin lover” because it seems that Sam (the gardener) and Papi (the dog) are the “exotic,” unlikely lovers of these women. If these relationships were between equals, then I wouldn’t be making this accusation. But this movie has that tired classist element of the privileged hero’s journey to learn that “poor people are people too!” and humanizes people who actively participate in oppression (while perpetuating stereotypes about the poor), except this time, class and Latinidad are linked together, so it comes across as a white character learning that, as Josh Levin from Slate explained, Got that lesson, kids? Mexicans aren't dirty, smelly, and lower class. They're people (and dogs), too!

This power dynamic is ostensibly broken down by the plot point that Sam and Papi are supposed to rescue Chloe, but the end of the movie undercuts this by having the white women “rewarding” the Latino men by making them rich. This implies a white savior complex, that the white women are uplifting these poor brown people who only deserve better because they lent a hand when the white women were in trouble. Anna Smith explains this in her review on Empire Online:

“What grates most are the patronising racial stereotypes: the dirty Mexican dogs are just waiting to be rescued by LA ladies and given a good bath.”

Returning to the fact that most of the Latino characters are dogs (save for Sam), has terribly racist implications, especially when coupled with the fact that of the main white women, most of them (except one- Drew Barrymore as Chloe) are humans in the movie. This casting choice carries undertones that Latinos are animals, which is dehumanizing. Meanwhile, the white people, who are technically supposed to flawed and blinded by their privilege in the world of the movie, are humanized more than the people the audience are supposed to feel sympathy for because they are actual people- not dogs- in the movie.

Finally, there is the moment that Chloe is introduced to her long lost heritage, the other chihuahuas in Mexico. While this part is supposed to be a moment of awakening for both the dog and the audience, it comes across as feeling like cultural appropriation. She only accepts “her” culture when it is interesting or fun for her, but she is unwilling to accept the difficulties, such as being exploited as a gardener by rich white women. This moment also fails because Chloe is coded as white and Anglo-Saxon, so this moment is not hers to have. This is not her culture to reclaim. Had Chloe been coded as a Latina or a biracial or multicultural Latina, this moment would be more understandable and in a superior movie, even emotional and powerful, but instead, it is simply another case of stealing the favorable elements of a culture without having to deal with the negative aspects.

Ultimately, this movie has serious anti-Latinx implications and quite obvious stereotypes, and and seems to be a one time case (though it isn’t because there are a Beverly Hills Chihuahua 2 and 3), these criticisms are important to understand. Though it was most likely not Disney’s intention to insensitively perpetuate stereotypes in such an egregious manner, the effect of these stereotypes is important. It’s important to note that Disney, at that point, was willingly exploiting Mexican culture and heritage then mutating it into an offensive caricature for profit (about $90 million domestically for the first movie).


 

Disney movies especially impact younger viewers who see these stereotypes and ingest them, unaware of their societal impacts. When stereotypes with dark historical and cultural context, such as those I have explained, are marketed in a cute and ostensibly harmless way, they can become dangerous because it’s easier for people to perpetuate these stereotypes. A cute, fun movie still has the implications that perpetuates stereotypes and a mentality that views Latinx people as “other,” only in a more subtle way. And because it is more subtle, it is harder to eliminate.




In Beverly Hills Chihuahua, not relying on stereotypes could have done a service to the movie. Instead of being a rehash of an unimaginative story, it could have provided social commentary, had another layer of meaning, and have been entertaining for not only kids but adults as well, all without infusing harmful attitudes toward Latinx people into impressionable young minds. By their very definition, stereotypes are one-dimensional. Good stories and characters are the opposite: they are nuanced and have many layers. Not only is the existence of stereotypes damaging to young children both Latinx and non-Latinx, but it is simply bad storytelling, which is the complete opposite of Disney’s statement about their mission (during the time of the controversy surrounding Sofia the First) to the Huffington Post , “While quality storytelling is the goal, diversity is the guidepost here.”

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