Storm & Starfire Colorism
How closely does an actor need to resemble a character or historical figure in order to portray them on the Silver Screen? Seems to depend on color.

After the heartbreak of losing a close colleague, a television star vanishes, presumed to have drowned in Lake Izu. A mysterious empty boat, a forged suicide note, and sleeping pills spark suspicion. As her family—an estranged husband, a troubled son, and a secretive ex—grapple with grief and confusion, layers of hidden pain and deception begin to unravel. What seems like a tragic suicide slowly turns into a web of lies, guilt, and emotional collapse… until the final, devastating truth surfaces
How closely does an actor need to resemble a character or historical figure in order to portray them on the Silver Screen? Seems to depend on color.
Remakes. Reboots. Reinventions. Redundancy. It's the common practice in Hollywood of late, sometimes offering us victorious reimagining of what can be considered cinematic classics while also, more often, falling flat on their UN-imaginative faces in utter defeat and lackluster results. Admittedly, with this in mind, I went into the newest incarnation of "The War of the Roses" with typical trepidation and cautious optimism.
The problem isn’t that it’s bad. It's good. But it fails to stand out from a crowd of similar films.
"A Drowning Man" (2017) explores the unseen aspects of the Refugee Crisis. In, 15 far-too-short minutes, viewers are given a detailed snapshot of what it's like for a refugee to drown in the waters of poverty and otherness while trying to navigate a land whose promise has worn off, and only 'strange' remains.
For a troubled teen, Will discovers what is important in life when he attends a summer camp: the people who care about his well being.
This is not a story of oppression but a story of liberation.