The German and European film industries like to present themselves as progressive, diverse, and internationally oriented. Yet for many artists from SWANA backgrounds — South West Asian and North African actors, directors, writers, and crew — the reality on the ground tells a different story.

Despite growing audiences, increasing numbers of trained professionals, and years of public debate around diversity, SWANA creatives remain structurally marginalized. Access to roles, funding, and decision-making positions is still largely shaped by closed networks, language hierarchies, and deeply ingrained stereotypes.

The result is an industry that claims inclusion, while reproducing exclusion. But this is not an abstract problem. It is deeply personal.

I am an actress and a writer. I have trained, worked, applied, networked, written, pitched, followed every piece of advice the industry gives. And I keep running into the same wall: access.

Representation That Falls Short of Reality

Germany today is a country shaped by migration. Around 26% of the population has a migration background*, yet this reality is barely reflected on screen.

According to diversity analyses of German cinema, only around 15% of protagonists* in films have a migration background. In some of the most systematic industry data available — UFA’s On-Screen Diversity Report — People of Color accounted for just 7.8% of roles*  in 2022.

These numbers are not just statistics. They translate into real experiences: fewer auditions, fewer complex roles, and almost no visibility in mainstream narratives.

When representation does exist, it is often limited to narrow categories: the refugee, the criminal, the oppressed woman, the radicalized man. Nuanced, ordinary, fully human characters remain rare.

Privilege as the Invisible Entry Ticket

One of the first barriers in film is money.

If you are born into a family that can afford to support you, pay for a prestigious film school, cover your living costs while you “build your career”, you already have half the journey behind you.

If not, your first obstacle is not talent. It is survival.

Film education is expensive. Living in major cultural cities is expensive. Working unpaid internships is expensive. Attending festivals, workshops, labs, networking events — all expensive.

The industry rarely calls this privilege. But that is exactly what it is.

The Paywall of Visibility

Even after training, access remains gated by money.

As an actress, I am expected to pay subscriptions to platforms like StagePool, Crew United, Castupload, Encast — just to be seen. These platforms are presented as “opportunities”, but in reality they are paywalls to visibility. Then come the agents.

You write hundreds of emails. You send showreels. You personalize every message. Most of the time, you receive no response or a polite automated rejection.

The same applies to casting directors. So you are told: “Do it yourself.” But “doing it yourself” means: paying for a coach, paying for a talent manager, paying for new headshots, paying for workshops and paying for networking. In an industry where entry already requires financial capital, self-production becomes another filter of privilege.

The Network Nobody Talks About

Here is the most uncomfortable truth: Most jobs in film and television are never publicly announced.

They circulate inside personal networks, alumni circles, agency rosters and informal recommendations.If you are not already inside these circles, you don’t even know what you are missing. So even if you are talented, trained, multilingual, motivated — you are still invisible. Not because of lack of skill. But because of lack of social capital.

The European Illusion

Artists are often told: “If it doesn’t work in one country, try another.” So you travel. You network internationally. You look at broader markets like France, where Arabic and SWANA stories appear more frequently on screen. But even there, another barrier appears.

European productions almost always prioritize local hires — for budget reasons, funding rules, union standards, and broadcaster requirements. This means that the same locally based actors are repeatedly cast in the same types of roles, cross-border mobility remains extremely limited and artists from outside those national systems remain outsiders, no matter how skilled they are. So even when diversity exists on screen, it is often diversity recycled within the same small professional circles. The system expands in image — but not in access.

Language as a Structural Barrier

One of the least discussed but most powerful forms of exclusion is language. German film remains overwhelmingly structured around German-native norms. Casting calls routinely require “muttersprache Deutsch”, even for international or diverse stories.

For SWANA artists, this creates a paradox: You are told diversity matters. But the system is designed to filter you out. Even when productions need Arabic or Persian for authenticity, roles often go to German actors who have learned the language — because they are already represented, already connected, already trusted. Multilingualism becomes a disadvantage in a supposedly international industry.

When the System Pushes You Out

At some point, many of us end up depressed and broke. Or at the Jobcenter. Or at the Agentur für Arbeit. And then comes another irony: As an artist, you are classified as “independent” — which means the state does not invest in you, does not retrain you as an artist, does not fund your development. You are told instead: “Choose a different career.” So you do an Umschulung. A Weiterbildung. Something in high demand. Something practical. Something safe. Not because you gave up on art. But because the system gave up on you. Now add the layers: migration background, non-native language, lack of family wealth, being a woman and being over 35. Each one alone is manageable. Together, they become a wall. At that point, success is no longer about talent. It is about endurance.

A Monopolized Cultural Space

The final result is not just personal tragedy. It is a cultural loss. Film — one of the most powerful forms of visual storytelling — remains dominated by a narrow social group who are financially secure, socially connected and culturally homogeneous. Not because they are better. But because they can afford to stay long enough to succeed. The industry reproduces itself in its own image.

If European cinema is serious about diversity, it must confront the real barriers that shape access. Opportunities cannot depend on paywalls and expensive platforms that filter talent through money. Casting and funding should be publicly visible, not locked inside closed networks where the same people circulate endlessly. Public institutions must also rethink how they treat artists. Artistic careers need to be recognized as legitimate professions and cultural investments, not dismissed as personal hobbies.

At a European level, diversity requires real mobility. Funding structures must enable genuine cross-border casting and collaboration instead of recycling national talent under European labels. Support for marginalized creators should not be charity. It is cultural infrastructure — and without it, diversity remains only a slogan. 

Conclusion: Art Is Not a Luxury

The end result is that one of the most important art-making industries in Europe remains monopolized by a narrow category of people — while art itself is supposed to be mad, free, porous, and without borders.

Art exists precisely because it cannot be contained. Because it cannot be regulated like markets or measured like productivity. Because it gives form to what cannot be said through politics, laws, or statistics.Art is the soft school for everyone. It is how societies learn empathy. It is how people see lives they have never lived, feel realities they have never touched, and question truths they were taught not to doubt.

Art is not decoration.

It is not JUST entertainment. It is not a luxury. It is a social necessity. It makes life bearable. It creates meaning where systems create silence. It gives people language for pain, hope for change, and imagination for futures that do not yet exist. When access to art-making is restricted, it is not only artists who lose. It is society itself that becomes poorer, narrower, and more afraid of difference. A cultural space that excludes voices does not just misrepresent reality — it shrinks it. And a film industry that closes its doors to large parts of its own society is not protecting quality. It is suffocating the very force that keeps culture alive

Data sources:

https://stepup.ecoprod.com/fr/germany

https://www.the-berliner.com/film/getting-reel-on-diversity-in-german-cinema

https://www.bertelsmann.com/corporate-responsibility/engagement/project/ufa-publishes-on-screen-diversity-report.jsp