Movies almost always need a hero. That doesn’t necessarily mean a caped crusader or an action powerhouse, just someone whose heart is in the right place so audiences can root for them. The trouble is that in most films, these heroic figures are white. When the people being “saved” are people of color, this falls into what’s known as White Savior Syndrome.
Take Django Unchained. Django may be the one taking revenge on slave owners, but he’s only able to do so because Christoph Waltz’s character, a white bounty hunter, gives him the means and opportunity. Or look at Blood Diamond. Leonardo DiCaprio plays a diamond smuggler in Sierra Leone who meets a local man holding a gem worth millions. At first, his only interest is in getting his hands on the stone, but as the story unfolds, he decides he needs to save the man’s life as well. In one scene, his character makes it clear that the man’s survival depends on his help, warning that a diamond of that size will never stay a secret for long.
The white savior trope isn’t limited to stories involving Black characters. In The Great Wall, Matt Damon travels to China and ends up leading local warriors in defending their monument from supernatural creatures. In Gran Torino, Clint Eastwood plays a gruff Korean War veteran who steps in to protect his Korean neighbor from a violent gang, famously telling them to “get off my lawn” in a tense standoff.
The list of films with white savior elements is long and filled with major titles, not just throwaway productions. Even critically acclaimed works like 12 Years a Slave, The Help, and The Last Samurai carry traces of it.
Many online discussions paint the white savior complex as a damaging byproduct of white guilt that needs to disappear. But the reality can be more complicated. These stories are often inspired by true events — though perhaps not in the case of The Great Wall. Films like Green Book, Free State of Jones, and The Blind Side are based on real-life situations where white individuals did play key roles in helping people of color. They can be uplifting, inspiring audiences to take a stand against injustice. Sometimes the reason a white character is at the center is simply because that’s how it happened in history.
There’s also an argument that these movies present heroism in a more grounded way. Not everyone can join the Avengers to battle an intergalactic villain, but they can see themselves taking smaller, more human steps to help someone. On the flip side, critics point out that these are often Black or nonwhite narratives in which a white protagonist gets most of the credit. Why can’t the people in these stories save themselves? And are the white characters always acting out of pure altruism, or is there an undercurrent of guilt or self-image at play?
