The Whitewashing of Captain Nemo and the Return of an Indian Hero That Hollywood Erased

For over a century, Captain Nemo has been one of literature’s most enduring characters—a brooding submarine commander driven by rage against imperial oppression. Yet most audiences know him as a white European gentleman, thanks to decades of Hollywood adaptations that systematically erased his true identity. The reality is far different: Jules Verne’s original Captain Nemo was Indian, the son of a maharajah whose family was murdered by the British East India Company.

In his 1870 novel “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea,” Jules Verne created Captain Nemo as an Indian prince consumed by hatred for the imperialist nation that destroyed his family—specifically, Britain. This identity was only hinted at in the original novel but made explicit in Verne’s 1874 sequel, “The Mysterious Island.” Nemo’s bitter enemy was the British East India Company, whose brutal suppression of the Indian Uprising of 1857 drove the submarine commander to a life of self-imposed exile aboard the Nautilus.

This backstory was deeply rooted in the colonial realities of Verne’s time. The Indian Rebellion of 1857, also known as the Sepoy Mutiny, was a watershed moment in British colonial history, marked by extraordinary violence on both sides. Verne’s Nemo represented the colonized subject turned rebel, using advanced technology to wage war against his oppressors.

Hollywood’s Great Erasure

The first major distortion came early. The 1916 silent film “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea” featured American actor Allen Holubar as the Indian prince, but in garish brownface and “vaguely Eastern garb”—a crude caricature that reflected the racial attitudes of its era.

The real damage, however, came with Disney’s 1954 blockbuster adaptation. James Mason’s portrayal of Nemo became the definitive version for generations of viewers, establishing him as a brooding white European gentleman. While Mason’s performance was compelling, it fundamentally altered the character’s identity and political meaning. This Nemo’s anger was directed at a “hated nation” of capitalists and warmongers that seemed like Britain but went “conspicuously unnamed”—stripping away the specific anti-colonial context that gave the character his original power.

The tide began to turn with the 2003 film “The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen,” which featured Naseeruddin Shah as an explicitly Indian Nemo, complete with Sikh turban and royal blue captain’s coat.

The pattern continued for decades. Patrick Stewart, Michael Caine, and Robert Ryan all brought their own interpretations to the role, but all were white actors playing what audiences assumed was a white character. The 1969 British production “Captain Nemo and the Underwater City” even cast Robert Ryan alongside Chuck Connors, two actors best known for Hollywood Westerns—about as far from Verne’s Indian prince as possible.

The Consequences of Appropriation

This systematic whitewashing had profound consequences. It transformed a story of anti-colonial resistance into a generic tale of European eccentricity. Nemo’s specific grievances against British imperialism were diluted into vague complaints about “warmongers” and “capitalists.” The character’s revolutionary potential—a colonized subject using superior technology to fight back against his oppressors—was neutered.

The erasure also reflected broader patterns in Hollywood’s treatment of non-white characters. Stories originating from or featuring non-European protagonists were routinely adapted with white actors, a practice that continues to generate controversy today. In Nemo’s case, this appropriation was particularly ironic given that the character’s entire motivation stemmed from his experience of colonial oppression.

The Reclamation

The tide began to turn with the 2003 film “The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen,” which featured Naseeruddin Shah as an explicitly Indian Nemo, complete with Sikh turban and royal blue captain’s coat. Though the film received mixed reviews, it marked the first major Hollywood production to acknowledge the character’s true identity since the 1916 silent film.

The AMC series “Nautilus,” which premiered in 2024, goes further in this reclamation. Actor Shazad Latif, who is British of Pakistani heritage, plays Nemo as a young Indian prince in his action-hero prime. The series explicitly explores his identity and the colonial context that shaped him, presenting what Latif calls “the man before the myth.”

For Latif, discovering Nemo’s true identity was revelatory. “Like many people who had seen the Disney movie but had never read the books, Latif discovered that Nemo was South Asian like himself through ‘Extraordinary Gentlemen,’ which he watched in the theater as a teen,” according to The New York Times coverage of the series.

The restoration of Nemo’s Indian identity is more than historical accuracy—it’s about reclaiming a powerful symbol of resistance. Verne’s original character embodied the colonized subject’s fight against imperial oppression, using intelligence and technology to challenge seemingly insurmountable power. This message resonates differently when delivered by an Indian prince than by a white European gentleman.

The character’s long journey from Indian rebel to white eccentric and back again illustrates how cultural appropriation works in popular media. Stories and characters are stripped of their specific cultural contexts and repackaged for dominant audiences, often losing their original meaning and power in the process.

As discussions about representation in media continue to evolve, Captain Nemo’s story serves as a case study in how easily cultural identities can be erased—and how important it is to recover them. After more than a century of whitewashing, Hollywood is finally allowing audiences to meet the character Jules Verne actually created: not a European gentleman playing melancholy tunes on his pipe organ, but an Indian prince whose rage against imperial oppression drove him to the depths of the ocean.

The real Captain Nemo was never about European angst or generic anti-war sentiment. He was about the specific experience of colonial violence and the colonized subject’s right to resist. It’s a story that deserves to be told—finally—in its authentic form.