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Netflix’s Ragnarok and the Problem with Forced Diversity: The Case of Iman Reza

Now, before you all criticise me for the title — hear me out. Let’s touch base with the basic premise of this Netflix show: it’s a retelling of Norse mythology, set in a modern Norwegian town called Edda. It's not your typical Marvel's glossy, over-the-top production — this one is slower and more atmospheric. The series has some really cool shots; however, the first season is slow-paced, as it takes time to set the stage, introducing characters, building the myth, and layering in environmental themes. Keep in mind that for some, it might feel like a bit of a snooze fest, but if it’s something you enjoy, it’s worth watching.

*SPOILER ALERT* Within the first episode, our beloved 30-minutes-of-screen-time character is dead. Magne’s almost-best friend is killed. That’s the spark that lights a slow-burning avalanche of vengeance and events, all crawling toward a larger mythic showdown. Magne, our teenage lead, learns he is the reincarnation of Thor and must face the Jutul family — Jötnar (giants) in disguise.

The series reimagines the ancient myths, placing them in a contemporary context with a focus on environmental issues and social commentary.

Photo by Krista Joy Montgomery on Unsplash

Ngl, heard tremendous reviews about the show. Although I was a bit skeptical since Netflix has this weird fetish for destroying or cancelling good shows. I decided to take a leap of faith and jumped right in. At first, I was hooked. Characters were introduced with care, their roles poised to shape the story. Watching Magne stumble into godhood was fresh; it’s not like everyday a regular teenager wakes up as a Norse god incarnate. The setup was solid.

Then came the “diversity cast” moment — and the show’s logic nose-dived. It was pretty funny to watch.

How to butcher logic to appease Tokenism 

If Ragnarok wanted to challenge cultural norms and broaden the scope of myth, it could’ve done that with depth and respect. Instead, it gave us Iman Reza — a character who is, quite frankly, a walking ethnic cultural contradiction.

When I first met Iman on-screen, I didn't question her place in the cast. She genuinely had me hooked! This character was eccentric, striking, witty, and charmingly unapologetic. Around S3 (haven't yet watched it), she began to use her powers for personal gain, sure, but she was a joy to watch. Honestly, I assumed she'd be a quirky sidekick — maybe even a replacement for the friend Magne lost. But boy was I so wrong. She’s a reincarnation of a Norse goddess, Freyja, goddess of love.

Her power? Mind compulsion — wielded so flawlessly she could moonlight as the world’s most effective therapist. She also has super-strength, durability, a healing factor, and immortality shared with other reincarnates. I’ve only watched the first 2 seasons; however, in season 3, Iman develops shamanic abilities like seeing the future.

The problem isn’t Danu Sunth, the actress. The problem is how her character is written.

Adoption, Assimilation, and the Myth of Representation: Where is Iman really from?

By James Doyle Penrose (1862-1932)   

Norse goddess reincarnate, Iman Reza's backstory is a narrative black hole — born in Sri Lanka, adopted by white Norwegians, and given a name, 'Iman Reza' that carries deep Islamic significance. Yet she's a reincarnation of a Norse goddess whose identity is tied to Scandinavian bloodlines and land. Her entire caricature is a fiction designed to satisfy visual diversity while denying cultural coherence. 

And for once, if you’re tickling your brain with thought provoking inclusive narratives like — She’s a brown skinned Muslim woman in a show dominated by white Scandinavian characters, and that’s empowering — I’ve got news for you, buddy.

Her on-screen identity feels assembled in boredom: brown skin for visual diversity, an exotic birthplace for immigrant cred, a name that signals religion without showing it, and divine powers for instant importance. Cultural logic? Absent.

A discussion like this is heavily nuanced, and I will be taking extra care in what sort of lens I put on while presenting some basic logic and writing flaws. 

I don’t have an issue with South Asian Muslim women's representation, but calling out the contradiction it presents within the structure of the story is necessary. Iman is adopted and raised in Norway by white Norwegian parents — we’re told or shown — her name literally screams religious identity. The word "Iman" in Arabic means "faith" or "belief," particularly referring to faith in Islam. It's a significant concept, representing a deep conviction in the tenets of the faith. While the word itself signifies a core aspect, it's also a commonly used name among men as "Imam" in Muslim communities. 

Iman Reza

  • Born in Sri Lanka.
  • Adopted and raised in Norway by white parents.
  • Zero ancestral connection to Norse heritage.
  • Is (implied) Muslim, a faith that rejects polytheism outright

Let’s say even if you’re being subjective, Islam is not. Here’s where the West doesn’t seem to comprehend the slightest. Netflix just can’t fart creativity out of thin air and cast a diversity hire cause it’s visually appealing. That’s being dishonest straight up — the very foundation of Norse Mythology is culturally and ethnically rooted in that region. While you wouldn’t want your god or gods to be played by white folks, not only would it not make sense, it would just kill the relatability factor. Norse gods are treated like comic book characters, but to Scandinavians, they are cultural ancestors

Imagine a white actor cast as a revered figure in Hindu, African, or Islamic tradition — it would be sacrilegious. This is no different.

The Generational Scenario That Could’ve Worked

I love playing the devil’s advocate, so let’s run a scenario that WOULD make sense — Iman never existed in the region until she was adopted. If her family had migrated to Norway, let’s say:

  • Been in Norway for 4+ generations,
  • Had cultural and linguistic ties to the region,
  • Grown into the land’s rhythm, mythology, and identity.

Then sure, maybe you could argue there's room to play with reincarnation — she’s functionally Norwegian, even if her ancestry isn’t Nordic.

But that’s not what happened here.

Instead:

  • She’s adopted — no biological continuity with Norway.
  • She’s Sri Lankan — outside the Indo-European/Nordic myth sphere.
  • She’s (implied) Muslim — a faith that rejects polytheism outright.
  • She has no generational link to the gods whose essence she supposedly embodies.

She’s as far removed from Norse culture as possible, yet the show gifts her divine powers tied to Norse soil and ancestry — while ethnically Norse characters in the same universe remain powerless.

It’s beyond symbolic. It’s ideologically curated — a total inversion of logic and myth rewritten for the sake of "modern messaging."

Photo by Zsolt Cserna on Unsplash

Vaguely Norwegian Adoptive Parents: Narrative Props

Iman’s adoptive parents remain virtually absent throughout the series, and they're implied to be white Norwegians. The show makes no effort to explore religious or cultural upbringing, rendering their role functional rather than meaningful. They exist solely to justify her presence in Norway (as a transfer student joining the school mid-semester/year, conveniently so after the friend's death, to fill her spot as a requirement), not to shape her character.

Two possibilities:

  1. They raised her Muslim, rare in Norway’s demographics.

  2. She adopted the faith herself — or Netflix slapped an Arabic name on her and called it representation.

Either way, it makes zero narrative or cultural sense. 

Why does this matter? If her parents were ethnically Norwegian Muslims, the show should’ve acknowledged the cultural transition, the implications, and the tension.

We’re given no answers — because the show doesn’t care. All we know is: her name’s Iman Reza from Sri Lanka, has brown skin, and is "cool and quirky with powers." That’s the extent of her depth.

Cultural Ethnicity is not your playground to fart ‘Inclusive Narratives’

I’m calling out the illogical ‘Symbolism’ that runs like clockwork to appease Western Secularism. So, when Netflix co-opts an Arabic name and South Asian background, then layers pagan godhood over it — creating a contradiction so glaring it’s almost parody. This isn't inclusion; it's borderline stupidity.

We’re not rejecting diversity, we’re rejecting lazy work dripping in dishonest, identity-muddying representation that outright ignores basic history, culture and religious truth — that’s arrogance.

And that’s not “intolerant.” That’s called protecting the integrity of both your faith and the stories of others. There’s no harm in diverse creativity when done right — trust me, there’s a ton of ways of doing it.

Norse mythology is historically and ethnically deeply rooted in Scandinavia.

That means:

  • Their gods, myths, and legends emerged from a white, pre-Christian, Nordic culture.
  • Freya, Thor, Odin, and company were worshipped by ethnically Norse people.
  • Their settings, names, behaviours, and rituals are based on that time, place, and race.

So yes — when a show casts an adopted brown girl as a Norse god reincarnate, it's not historically consistent or culturally accurate.

And no, we're not wrong to call it out as forced diversity. Because it is.

Western Media’s Growing Obsession with Tokenism

Hollywood (Netflix included) has a weird obsession with ticking the diversity box. Cultural and religious identities get treated like costumes. Like, let's throw in brown folks cause it's fun, visually appealing and heck, why not attitude.

Would you put a white dude in a turban and call him Ali ibn Abi Talib? That would be sacrilegious, absurd, and offensive. Now that's a menacing joke. 

The deeper issue? The West has mistaken diversity for virtue. In execution:

  • Myths are rewritten to match modern values.
  • Cultural and ethnic context gets erased.
  • Representation is assumed to be better than authenticity.

Since when did the idea that “diversity equals moral good” become a justifiable thing to produce horseshit?

I'm saying: some stories belong to the people who lived them. Remember Netflix’s infamous “Queen Cleopatra” fiasco? Sighs.

This isn’t world-building. This isn’t storytelling. It’s ideological performance. It’s pretending that myth, religion, ethnicity, and faith are just interchangeable props. It’s the illusion of inclusion — at the cost of both coherence and respect.

And there it is, a deep analysis of Netflix's modern-day Norse goddess reincarnate, Iman Reza: A failure.

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If you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading. Comment your thoughts on it <3 Lived experiences and real perspectives matter more than token characters ever will.