It feels like every other day another article circles back to “Nepo babies” and industry plants. The highest-grossing film of all time came out fourteen years ago, and its environmental themes had already been explored more effectively in Dances With Wolves, FernGully, and Pocahontas. And the uncomfortable truth lingers: can you name more than two characters from Avatar? Most people cannot.
Research from 2024 shows that only eight percent of people in the film industry come from working-class backgrounds. That is the lowest point in more than a decade.
Numbers like these force a direct question. Is the media space a meritocracy at all. Does the film world, or its audience, truly reward talent, vision, determination, and perseverance.
Networking and access shape careers. That is why the “Nepo baby” debate persists. The hardest barrier in film is entry. If you are born into a creative network, that barrier evaporates before your first audition or your first pitch.
Yet many individuals labeled as “Nepo babies” are also genuinely skilled. Maya Hawke, Willow Smith, Jaden Smith, Sabrina Carpenter. Their access helped; their talent keeps them relevant. Millions watch and listen. Maya Hawke holds her weight in Stranger Things. Jaden Smith has released work that stands on its own.
The meritocracy debate extends across media. “Industry plant” accusations follow artists whose early visibility comes from strong institutional backing. But long-term cultural staying power cannot be bought. It comes from a song that cuts through noise. A performance that refuses to fade. A story that hits something true. Pedro Pascal worked for decades in the margins before global audiences finally recognized what his craft had built.
It remains a serious problem that so few working-class creatives make it through the door. Voices like Joe Gilgun show what happens when working-class stories are actually told with authenticity. London’s cost of living and the price of film school shut countless people out before they even start. Independent streaming platforms and YouTube help widen the aperture, giving filmmakers without institutional access a fighting chance to be seen.
As someone from a working-class background, these statistics are aggravating. The climb is real. But many of us are climbing the same slope. Collaboration, patience, kindness, talent, and consistent work are the forces that create lasting film.
Cult classics prove it. The Iron Giant, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, Donnie Darko, The Shawshank Redemption. Each struggled at the box office, yet grew into cultural pillars because quality eventually finds its audience.
The original Avatar is, in my view, middling. What it lacked in story, character, and thematic strength, it compensated for with groundbreaking technology. CGI has evolved far from the days of Toy Story reusing character models or relying on crude approximations for background figures. In that sense, Avatar advanced the medium. It is simply unfortunate that its innovation appeared in the technical layer rather than in the narrative core.
So yes, the film world can function as a meritocracy. It is flawed. Access remains uneven, and the industry must expand who gets to enter. But background alone does not define creative destiny. Whether you come from established lineage or from nowhere, the audience eventually rewards talent, storytelling, and genuine creativity.