Opinion: Why we Need to be Critical of the Casting of Drag Race UK

Anyone who’s read any of my previous blog posts will, hopefully, not be surprised to find out that I’m rather invested in queer culture. So much so, that I started a blog dedicated to queer analysis of films, books, music, celebrities…any way I can put a defiantly queer spin on any given topic, I get excited. It is a way I’ve found I can express my deep, emphatic love and pride for my community. But sometimes, being an outspoken queer activist (if I may be so bold to give myself that title – God knows there are many who are more deserving) means questioning and criticising things that happen within your own community. Our community is not perfect, and often things we hold sacred need to be challenged when they’re not up to task. For a while now, RuPaul’s Drag Race has been such a cultural phenomenon. The show has done wonders for introducing positive representation of queer and gender non-conforming people into the media landscape. It was perhaps the first show to portray drag performers as hard working, serious artists, passionate about and invested in their craft, rather than portraying us as a joke. However, Drag Race and RuPaul are no stranger to controversy. And the recent cast reveal of the UK edition of Drag Race proves that the show is becoming a dangerous monopoly over an incredibly diverse and politically charged artform. RuPaul, as the gatekeeper to drag, holds the keys. It is crucial that this be addressed.

When a UK edition of the show was announced, reactions ranged from excitement to nervous trepidation. See, Drag Race may have introduced positive representations of some queer people into the popular culture, but the show has also had a history of incompetent social and political faux pas. From the portrayal of black queens and the reaction they illicit from the fanbase, to the emphasis on ‘passable’ femininity, to the exclusion of drag kings, hyper queens, and trans contestants (including RuPaul’s horrifically tone-deaf comments in the Guardian, comparing transitioning trans women competing on Drag Race to the use of performance enhancing drugs in the Olympics), audiences have become increasingly aware of how the show’s optics sometimes push a negative agenda. Despite this, the original US version continues to go from strength to strength, and the shows fanbase now spans notions of gender, sexuality and race. This, by all accounts, should be a good thing – it has resulted in queer people being able to live off the income of their artform, and some may argue that any representation is worthwhile. RuPaul – notoriously rigid in his views – even apologised for his comments regarding trans women, and went on to cast Gia Gunn, a trans woman who had transitioned since her tenure on the show, on the next All Stars season. It suggested that, maybe, just maybe, the producers of Drag Race would sit up, listen, and work to make their show more representative of drag out in the clubs and bars by casting a broader demographic of performers.

So, when the UK cast was announced, there was a united sigh of disappointment. Then, from some quarters, an appropriate level of indignation. Of the 10 queens cast on the UK season of Drag Race, 8 are white. All 10 are cisgender men. Any hope we had of the show representing the rich diversity of the UK drag scene was squashed under RuPaul’s size 13 stiletto pump.  Now, I must be clear – I am not specifically speaking about a lack of diversity in the styles or genres of drag. This was a common concern raised when the show was announced – how would the show cope in representing UK drag in all its irreverent snark and earthiness when the original show championed petite, ‘unlockable’, traditionally feminine queens? And yes, this is a concern – by highlighting only feminine, cis male queens, the show inadvertently reinforces notions of restrictive gender representations that drag is, at its core, designed to undermine. It’s also true that the shows focus on extravagant, editorial fashions make Drag Race inaccessible to queens working on a limited budget. But no, I want to focus specifically on the shows lack of diversity in its contestant’s total.

See, a common argument that will no doubt be aimed at anyone who criticises this cast will be that the show is ‘easing’ people into the artform of drag. This is horse shit for several reasons. Firstly, Drag Race, and by extension drag, is already firmly established in the zeitgeist. Drag Queens are on daytime talk shows, reality TV and have columns in newspapers. There’s no need to ‘ease’ them into the artform. And in any case, the UK has always been able to stand a greater level of gender bending compared to the US thanks to our pantomime tradition – look at glam rock, the New Romantics, Lilly Savage etc. And in any case, the show is on iPlayer – so if the producers are trying to appeal to the middle-aged married couples living in Berwick on Tweed, they are unlikely to come across the show casually anyway.

But more pressingly, this argument carries a tonne of problematic connotations. What are we really saying when we excuse an entirely cis, 80% white cast as being more ‘palatable’? The inference is that the British public are, supposedly, able to comprehend a man in a dress, but they will be unable to relate to a person of colour, and heaven forfend we ask them to comprehend the existence of a trans person. It is painfully clear that the producers of Drag Race – and increasingly the fanbase – are unwilling to see the transformative potential of drag be taken outside of the ‘werk’ room and into the arenas of race and gender identity. By centring whiteness, and completely eradicating trans-performers, AFAB bodies and drag kings, the show inadvertently reinforces more damaging systemic tools of oppression than it tackles. This is even more damning when the UK drag scene is one notable for its inclusivity and diversity. Anyone who has a love of drag – and yes, this means someone who seeks out drag in their local town, someone who happily pays to see a drag show without a single Ru girl present – can tell you that any given drag show in any of Britain’s major cities is enriched by the contributions of performers of all races, gender identities and economic backgrounds. It is why our drag scene is so imperative, so important and so exciting. This casting, therefore, fails not only to uphold people of colour and trans performers, it fails at the basic level of representing UK drag – and is that not the point in searching for our next ‘Drag Superstar’?

Of course, the keys to the castle lie with RuPaul. RuPaul is a successful black, gay man who has carved a career as a drag queen. His influence is monumental, that cannot be denied. However, that is where my reverence for RuPaul begins and ends. RuPaul has taken the art form of drag, and monopolised it – and, for a couple of seasons, the formula seemed to work. However, as the show has grown in popularity, it has failed to capitalise on its enormous potential to incite social change, both in the queer sphere and, given its current social standing, society at large. Does Drag Race have a duty to spark this sort of change? Yes, absolutely. It has the potential to do so - its reach is so extensive - and in these tense political times, its voice is warranted now more than ever. However, part of creating a marketable brand is knowing when to cut corners, when to compromise integrity, and when to pander to the audience with the biggest wallet. RuPaul could use the show to educate people on the pivotal role trans performers have played in the evolution of drag – yet none of the trans icons referenced in the show are ever revered for being outspoken trans activists, only ever for their drag careers, their transness conspicuously absent. Similarly, for all the times Paris is Burning is referenced in the show, RuPaul has yet to give a passing mention to the films charged racial commentary, which is imperative to understanding the lives of these characters and therefore the germination of the movement.

Let’s not kid ourselves – RuPaul is a baby boomer, with the politics to match. He preaches ideas that parallel the American Dream– you get it if you want it, and if you don’t, you didn’t want it enough. He preaches the idea of living in a meritocracy, where the success goes to those who deserve it, uniformly and unfailingly. In either case, he is wilfully neglecting to mention that some people have reduced opportunities due to their circumstances or, more accurately, because they are the victims in a cruel system based on systemic oppression - racist, cissexist or economic. RuPaul, as the producer and face of a media empire which decides the success of drag performers based on inflexible and regressive criteria, has the power to alter the drag landscape for the better. He essentially decides the ebb and flow of the artform. It is a shame that, rather than keeping the door open and helping everyone up onto his plateau of acceptance, he let the more ‘palatable’ (in his eyes) individuals of his community through, before allowing the trapdoor to slam shut on everyone else.

So, what now? Can Drag Race reroute and change course? Well, what impetus does RuPaul have to create that change? The show is going from strength to strength -presumably, it will do so the more RuPaul continues to pander to the lowest common denominator. Audiences don’t want to be challenged. If the show continues to centre whiteness as the default, erase the contributions of trans* performers, and continues to emphasise hegemonic gender norms, it can go on forever. The reliably profitable mainstream market will never be confronted with a rebuttal of their own deeply held prejudices. None of the above is designed to attack the queens cast (I mean, Baga Chipz voted for Theresa May, so… fuck her, I guess!), but in the same way that all white people must recognise our inherent white privilege, and all cis people must learn much the same for our inherent cis privilege, we must question why the show and its cast looks the way that it does – what this says about its producers, and what it says about its intended audience.

So, what to do for the drag fan who is tired of this trite façade of progressiveness? Well, of course, attend your local drag nights. Follow local performers on social media, share their work, especially if they belong to any of the groups RuPaul chooses to ostracize. If you’re looking for a new drag TV show fix, the new season of Dragula (hosted by the Boulet Brothers) has a wonderfully diverse cast, that shows that anything within the sphere of drag is only truly revolutionary and indefinitely more enriched by the notions of inclusivity and diversity. RuPaul’s Drag Race can, and must, do so much better. It never will unless we let them know that enough is enough.