“Anyone who benefits from patriarchy is going to have a problem with Che Diaz,” actor Sara Ramírez insisted earlier this month, in the kind of interview that put automobile accidents to shame. Speaking to The Cut, Ramírez seemed to misunderstand that And Just Like That fans disliked Che because the character is morally questionable, chronically unfunny and exhausting to be around – yet gets spoken of with such reverence in the universe of the show that they seem like a psy-op experiment gone terribly awry. “It’s exciting to have Che be a disruption to the mainstream,” Ramírez said, before inexplicably comparing Che’s arrival on the show to “the mass mobilisation for anti-racism for George Floyd”, and saying how important it is to “wake people up from the sleep of their own comfort and privilege”.
I kept thinking about Ramírez’s stance while watching episode three of And Just Like That’s second season, which paints Che as such a broadly miserable, sociopathic monster that I had to double check the credits to see if I’d written it. Has this chronically erratic series done the unthinkable? Has it decided Che Diaz is evil?
