GLAAD does an incredible job of combing through new and returning every fall to figure out who—and not only on the basis of sexual orientation—the networks want to tell stories about. The numbers on series regulars are important because they represent a more significant commitment: it’s not particularly hard for a show to slot in a supporting characters whose main characteristic is his or her gayness, or to cast an actor of color to play a wholly generic supporting character whose role is so slight doesn’t require anyone to think about any potential racial inflection of the part. So as the season gets off to a start this year, here’s what television looks like:
-4.4 percent of series regular characters are lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender
-61 percent of gay characters on broadcast television are men
-20 percent of gay characters on broadcast television are lesbians
-78 percent of series regulars are white
-12 percent of series regulars are African-American
-4 percent of series regulars are Latino
-5 percent of series regulars are Asian-Pacific Islanders
-1 percent of series regulars are multi-racial
-45 percent of series regulars are women
-0.6 percent of series regulars on the broadcast networks are people with disabilities
On race, the really egregious representation is for are Latino series regulars—16 percent of the American population is Latino, and this number of series regulars is actually down 2 percent from the previous television seasons. I’m not entirely sure why writing Latino characters appears to be such a challenge for television networks. Maybe it’s that archetypes of Latino characters aren’t as well-established as those for African-American characters, though I think the works of folks like Michael Peña is starting to establish roles like Latino cops that will prove as durable and as easily slotted into shows as African-American police officers and detectives. It may also be that some of the archetypes that do exist, like the volatile bombshell, only work and aren’t awful, stereotypical throwbacks under certain narrow circumstances, and when executed by certain performer like Sofia Vergara, and then not with consistent success. But either way, it’s an embarrassing statistic.
People with disabilities are also dramatically underrepresented on television: the reality’s around 12 percent, and representation’s clocking in at 0.6 percent. Some of this may be a settings issue: 21.1 of people with disabilities were employed in September 2012 as compared to 69.3 percent of people without disabilities, which means that a lot of American television is set in environment where people with disabilities are underrepresented compared to their actual presence in the population. But it’s also a matter of reminding network suits that, in fact, people with disabilities live and laugh and love and have adventures and solve crimes and practice medicine and run parts of government and try cases in court, and that audiences at home can see something other than their disabilities.

The National Hockey League, eight years removed from a lockout that devastated its revenues, was finally healthy again. But after another dispute over how to split revenues and the owners’ lockout of players ensued, the league has canceled the first two weeks of its season, including all four of Tuesday’s opening night games and 78 others.
One of the best documentaries I saw at the Sundance Film Festival in January 
1. Leadup Matters: Short scenes in television often mean we see couples on a straight route from the front door to the bedroom. Hot and heavy’s fine, but it cuts out one of the most fun things about watching characters prepare to get it on, whether this is the first time they’re sleeping together, or whether they’re an established couple going to bed prepared to surprise each other all over again. Two instructive examples come from The Hour and Parenthood. The former spent its third hour on a number of plots, but the through line was rising sexual tension between Bel Rowley, the producer on the news magazine program The Hour, and Hector Madden, her married anchor. As they flirted on the drive up to London and wandered the halls of Madden’s wife’s palatial country home during a game of Sardines, watching Hector catch Bel’s hand or move in for an early kiss was as tense and thrilling as a full-on sex scene, and we didn’t even have to see them take off their clothes. In the second season of Parenthood, in the episode “Amazing Andy And His Wonderful World Of Bugs” Julia and Joel Graham end up delaying having sex until Julia is ovulating because they’re trying to get pregnant. Watching Joel lust after Julia is half the fun, in part because Sam Jaeger conveys longing so well. You don’t have to worry about what acts you can and can’t broadcast if you have actors who can plausibly sell desire even when they aren’t touching each other.
This post discusses plot points from the October 4 episode of Parks and Recreation.
