Netflix’s Running Point had all the makings of an entertaining sports drama. A reformed party girl must prove herself as a businesswoman when she’s unexpectedly put in charge of her family’s pro basketball team. The premise is solid, the stakes are high, and it’s the kind of messy, fun setup that could have delivered a compelling story.

But instead of giving us a fresh take, Running Point falls into one of Hollywood’s most tired and frustrating tropes: the long-lost Latino sibling.

It treats Latino identity as a last-minute plot twist and to make things even more absurd, the long-lost sibling in question, Jackie Moreno (Fabrizio Guido), has literally been working for the family his entire life in odd jobs, without anyone putting the pieces together.

Why does Hollywood keep recycling this cliché? And what does it say about the industry’s lazy approach to Latino stories?

The “Latino Surprise” Needs to Die

At this point, I feel like I could make a drinking game out of it. How many times have we seen a show or movie introduce a “shocking” twist where the protagonist – or their long-lost sibling – turns out to be Latino? It’s almost always the same formula: Wealthy, unsuspecting white family, a mysterious newcomer with secrets, a dramatic reveal, and then cue the identity crisis with vague references to their Latino background and almost no actual engagement with culture beyond a passing mention of abuela’s cooking. Here are a few examples:

• Happy’s Place (2024): In Reba McEntire’s new sitcom, a long-lost Latina sister suddenly shows up at the bar they own. Instead of integrating her naturally into the story, the show makes her existence feel like a disruption that the white characters have to adjust to.
• Jane the Virgin (2014-2019): Jane’s long-lost half-brother, Mateo, grew up completely disconnected from his Latino identity, and his storyline revolvese around discovering it – reinforcing the idea that Latino heritage is something revealed, rather than lived.
• Switched at Birth (2011-2017): Daphne was raised by a Latina single mother instead of her actual wealthy white biological parents. The show treated her Latina upbringing as a mistake that had to be discovered and corrected.
• Brothers & Sisters (2006-2011): Classic case of “Wait, you’re our long-lost sibling, and you’re Latino??” Ryan, the secret son, was Latino, but the show didn’t explore his identity beyond using it as a shocking family shake-up.
• The Fosters (2013-2018): This one introduced a last-minute Latino identity reveal for Callie and Jude’s father, but never meaningfully explored it.

The list goes on, but the pattern is clear: Latino characters aren’t written into families from the start. They’re tacked on later, like a diversity checkbox that got forgotten in the first draft of the script.

Running Point Misses the Basket with Jackie Moreno

Likewise, instead of crafting a nuanced Latino character, Running Point reduces Fabrizio Guido’s Jackie Moreno to nothing more than a dramatic plot twist. Jackie isn’t just a random long-lost sibling – he’s been working for the family his whole life. And then it gets worse.

When Jackie finally discovers the truth about his wealthy white relatives, their first instinct is to try and bribe him to stay away – and not even with a decent amount of money. When that doesn’t work, they come up with a genius solution: offering him an assistant job working for the team.

You cannot make this crap up.

But Running Point doesn’t stop there. Instead of letting Jackie come into his own, they turn him into a lost puppy who doesn’t know what to do with himself now that his existence is out in the open. And of course, because he suddenly has a connection to wealth (even though he personally has no money), women start flocking to him – not because they care about him, but because they want to be closer to what they think is the family fortune. And Jackie? He doesn’t see it coming at all.

So naturally, he falls into the mujeriego trap, chasing women left and right. And what does he end up with? An STD. Because, of course, the long-lost Latino sibling can’t just be a guy figuring out his place, he has to be a walking stereotype. And to top it all off, in all this mess, he completely misses out on the one person who actually wanted to get to know him for who he is.

Now, let me be clear: I don’t blame Fabrizio Guido for taking this job. Not at all. We get to enjoy his wonderful performance, and that’s great. But boy, did I wish Jackie had more umph! Instead of giving him depth, the writing throws him into predictable chaos, making him both pathetic and reckless at the same time. It’s frustrating to watch because there’s so much potential for a truly compelling character arc, but instead, he’s just another example of how Hollywood loves to make Latinos the messy, directionless side plot instead of giving them real stories.

Hollywood Loves a Token, Not a Character

One of the biggest issues with this trope is that it rarely results in true representation. Instead of giving us well-rounded Latino characters with depth, complexity, and actual culture, we get the bare minimum. Maybe there’s a Spanish phrase thrown in. Maybe there’s a mention of growing up “on the other side of town.” But meaningful engagement with identity? Almost never.

And let’s be real – this cliché is almost never applied to white-passing Latinos. Hollywood only loves the “long-lost Latino sibling” when they can visually contrast them against their white family members. The industry still wants the shock of difference, not a real exploration of what it means to be Latino.

This is the same reason we keep getting watered-down representation in mainstream media. It’s why Afro-Latinos are still fighting to be seen in Hollywood. It’s why Latino-led stories keep getting sidelined in favor of stereotypes. Because for Hollywood, representation is about checking a box, not actually telling our stories.

At the end of the day, Running Point is just another example of Hollywood’s lazy approach to Latino representation. It could have been a meaningful exploration of identity, family, and belonging. Instead, it settled for the easy route – the same route we’ve seen too many times before.

Latinos deserve better than to be a last-minute plot twist. And Hollywood needs to stop pretending that adding a Latino sibling to a rich white family counts as meaningful representation. It doesn’t. It never has. And if they keep this up, they’ll lose an audience that’s tired of seeing themselves reduced to nothing more than a surprise.