What’s Missing in the Lilo & Stitch Posters? A Face—and a Deeper Concern

The promotional posters for Disney’s upcoming live-action Lilo & Stitch have sparked more than just excitement for the film’s release—they’ve reignited an important conversation about visibility, representation, and how the studio handles diversity in the aftermath of online backlash to past live-action remakes.

One glaring issue fans have noted: in several posters and marketing materials, the face of the young actress (Maia Kealoha) playing Lilo is conspicuously cropped out or simply missing. It’s a striking absence for a film that centers on her story, especially considering that Lilo is not only the main character and emotional heart of the story but also a rare portrayal of a young, dark-skinned Native Hawaiian girl in mainstream media.

The move feels cautious to a fault—almost as if Disney is attempting to shield both the young actress and itself from the same wave of online vitriol that Halle Bailey faced as Ariel in The Little Mermaid, or the preemptive and consistent outrage that met Snow White’s modern reimagining played by Rachel Zegler. Instead of standing behind their casting choice with confidence and pride, the decision to obscure the child’s face can read as a retreat. It inadvertently suggests a lack of confidence in the very diversity Disney claims to champion.

And worse—it comes off as awkward and petty. There’s something almost juvenile about it, like a middle schooler or pretentious influencer cropping someone out of a group photo out of spite or discomfort. It’s not just exclusionary—it’s painfully obvious.

What’s most unfortunate is that Lilo’s story is about feeling unseen, misjudged, and different—and overcoming that through love and understanding. The marketing ironically undercuts not just that message about marginalization, but the entire spirit of the film. It sends a chilling signal: that even in 2025, an alien is more palatable and marketable than a brown girl. That’s not just disheartening for the children of color who rarely get to see themselves centered on screen—it shapes how white audiences, too, are trained to see brown people: as side characters, background noise, or risks to be minimized.

This isn’t just a misstep—it’s cowardice. Disney has the platform and power to normalize diversity—not just by casting it, but by proudly centering it in every frame, every trailer, and every poster, which should be obvious even per Marketing or Design 101. When they fail to do so, they reinforce the idea that brown faces are controversial, expendable, or best hidden. And that harms not only how marginalized people see themselves, but how the rest of the world values them.

Lilo deserves to be seen. So does the actress who brings her to life. And frankly, it’s time Disney stopped acting afraid of its own message.