Stop Using Tattoos as Shorthand for Villain

by Jasmine Edwards

Tattoos are permanent body modifications, art made with ink and needles on human skin. Some are small and cutesy, while others are big and bold. People cover themselves in full sleeves or pay for a single quote, never wanting for further additions, and their ink may have a personal story or no significance whatsoever. Suffice it to say that tattoos are as unique and versatile as the people who receive them.

All around the globe, tattoos have different meanings and purposes. But what they do not signify is whether someone is inherently good or evil. So why do so many film and television directors treat them as embodiments of everything wrong with the world and its inhabitants? Why are tattoos an easy—note, lazy—way of denoting character flaws, problems, and less morality?

Onscreen, tattoos often convey depravity or a wickedness within the characters who have them. In Good Omens (2019–2025), Crowley sports the only tattoo in the series, and he’s a literal demon! Writers, producers, prop and costume designers, and makeup artists use them as visual shorthand for villains. When someone comes into a scene sporting visible ink, the audience automatically distrusts them.

Perhaps they have a sordid past or a penchant for violence. They might belong to a gang or military unit. Whatever the reason, the audience should be wary because of a little body art. This is a kind of othering, or an exclusion of individuals from certain social groups because they are too different from the approved or standard order of things. Unfortunately, there is also no attempt to understand or include in an overtly conservative society.

Despite calls for broader diversity and inclusion, most film and TV makers lack any comprehensive knowledge about tattooing. While we could chalk this up to a general inability to research all topics covered in a piece of media, this is why creators consult sensitivity readers and test audiences ahead of time. Yet there is an almost total disregard for demonstrating proper tattoo techniques onscreen. The only one that comes to mind is a stick-and-poke session in the History Channel’s Vikings (2013–2020), but that was for historical accuracy and worldbuilding, not characterization purposes.

Conversely, in HBO Max’s The Penguin (2024) miniseries, a crime boss’ son gets a full back tattoo in black and yellow using an electric needle. The character’s ostentatious personality and art choice are subject to ridicule, showcasing how ridiculously stupid he must be. What’s even worse about this scene is that the character demonstrates no signs of distress during a session in one of the most sensitive areas to get tattooed (above the spine), with an ink color (yellow) both notoriously difficult and painful to sit through.

Then, the guy is kidnapped and grabbed on his bare back, which should be raw, bleeding, and leaking plasma like the deep, open wound that it is. Yet he has no reaction to being touched on the fresh, unfinished tattoo. This illustrates that the ink itself was an afterthought for both the director and actor. It served the singular purpose of establishing this character as a kind of “bad boy” making equally terrible life choices.

Similarly, the series Heroes (2006–2010) depicts a superpowered individual who can regenerate . . . getting a tattoo. This betrays a lack of intellect, or at least forethought, on the writers’ part; skin cells under a tattoo are constantly attacking and healing fresh ink, so the needle would never be able to leave a mark on this hero. In Prison Break (2005–2017), too, the protagonist has a chest sleeve (ink covering the entire chest and arms) laser removed in a single session—a procedure that would literally kill him.

Fictional tattoo designs are also widely disappointing. Makeup artists often slap and stick on stencils or temporary tattoos with zero regard for movement and cohesiveness. Tattoos are not pencil sketches or paintings rendered on skin. The best tattoo artists know how to find flow based on a person's body shape, and the finest tattoo pieces “read” (or can be recognized and understood) from up close and a few feet away.

But think of the tattoos seen in film and TV. Any words and script are generic fonts found in a Microsoft Word document and show up on the actor in jet black ink—even if the tattoo is meant to be old, by which point it would settle and fade. Tattoos also scar, with tissue showing up underneath the ink after a few years. Finally, detailed line work blows out and blurs, yet movie tattoos are pristine because they're retouched or re-transferred in a makeup trailer every day.

A prime example of this faulty makeup direction is the movie Babygirl (2024), in which the young, hot, seductive, and threatening intern takes his shirt off to reveal myriad random chest tattoos. These are probably meant to be mysterious and sexy. But they look painted on as well as laughably unrealistic, completely removing an astute audience member from the moment. 

This may seem unfairly harsh or critical. But the complete apathy and ignorance is dangerous territory for any type of media. After all, movies and TV shows can inform and even shape people’s perspectives and worldviews. Children's movies Paddington in Peru (2024) and K-Pop Demon Hunters (2025) both include tattoos as symbols of villainy or irresponsibility, imparting a lesson onto kids of shame and secrecy surrounding something that could otherwise be cool to learn about.

Indeed, tattoos are more widely acceptable today, but many people are still averse to the mere concept or sight of them. In Japan, historically only Yakuza (a violent crime syndicate) got tattoos, making it a menacing and codified cultural art that led to heavy stigma. For foreigners traveling to Japan hoping to indulge in hot springs, or onsen, they’ll have to find “tattoo-friendly” establishments where it’s okay to visibly display body art.

South Korea’s parliament passed a bill only this year which legalizes tattooing by non-medical professionals. The bill ended a decades-long ban on tattooing, but the prejudices surrounding the art will not end as easily. For instance, K-Pop idols with tattoos have to hide and cover their ink onstage, yet heavily-tattooed Western artists such as Harry Styles perform shirtless all the time globally.

That is not to say that the United States doesn’t largely loathe tattooed people. All of the evidence above in film and television points to the contrary. That is because tattoos are highly racialized, as well as associated with prison and poverty (biases that go hand in hand in the US). In a WIRED interview, tattoo historian Matt Lodder, PhD., problematizes The Mummy (1999) for its racist character design choices: giving facial tattoos to Egyptian characters who would not historically have that ink simply because they come from Africa. This is a similarly awful trope to giving villains darker skin as some so-called reflection of their darker souls.

This does have real-world consequences. Tattoo ink is not FDA approved. And due to widespread stigma against tattooing, multiple professions and career fields won’t allow visible tattoos or associated body modifications like dyed hair—a practice so infuriating that the music festival Warped Tour used to ask attendees to sign petitions at every concert in order to end it. Such prejudices adversely affect all tattooed people, but especially people of color in all industries.

Fortunately, some movies and series are taking strides to show how positive tattoos are. DC’s Aquaman (2018) and Disney’s Moana (2016) utilize traditional Polynesian tattoo techniques for heroes, not villains. Tattoo artist Bang Bang specifically praised the tattoos in Moana for being shown as a “voice of reason.” Additionally, Netflix’s Arcane put tattoos on characters from all backgrounds and ethnicities, and made some of those characters good and some of them bad. 

Audience members play a role in this process, too. When watching tattoos onscreen, viewers must investigate exactly what a film or series is attempting to say with that ink. The ink itself does not determine someone’s nature or personality. A person’s actions and behavior are the true testament of their character. While successfully executed onscreen tattoos can thus externalize who a person is internally, the presence of ink itself is not a signifier of anything beyond an appreciation for body art. Hopefully, then, modern media starts to take a more progressive approach to tattoo representation—or at the very least, one that is not so judgmental.