Margaux Wosk wasn’t sure about appearing on TV. As president of disability nonprofit BC People First, owner of LGBTQIA+ and neurodiversity merchandise company Retrophiliac and a full-time artist, they already had their plate full.
But being an autistic person with a less than rosy view of autistic representation in media also gave them pause. So the idea of going on Canada’s version of The Assembly, which pairs autistic and neurodivergent interviewers with Canadian celebrities, seemed like a bit of a risk.
“I had a little bit of hesitation at first,” they told CBC News, regarding the media’s track record of depicting people whose brains work differently from what is considered “typical.”
“When we think of something like a specific Netflix show that has to do with dating, it can be very infantilizing.”
The Netflix show Wosk was referring to, Love on the Spectrum, is one of a number of shows that includes autistic people and storylines — for better or worse. And while they can be viewed as empowering examples of increased representation, shows like The Assembly have also garnered a reputation for evoking patronizing participation and a condescending viewpoint from their non-autistic and neurotypical audience.
A roomful of autistic and neurodivergent interviewers ask unpredictable, probing and direct questions to celebrities in a no holds barred interview.
In the frequently criticized column, there’s The Good Doctor — about a physician diagnosed with autism and savant syndrome — or Atypical, about an autistic teenager looking for love.
Both those shows have been criticized for their poor representation of autistic people — such as framing sensory processing issues as a joke, or a tendency to be brutally honest as an entertaining quirk — and for not hiring autistic actors.
But there are other examples: As We See It, Dinosaur and Everything’s Gonna Be Okay are all shows about autistic people that have been celebrated for not only respectfully handling their storylines, but including neurodivergent people behind the camera.
Then there’s The Assembly. Based on the French series Les Rencontres du Papotin, the franchise and format has jumped from England, to Australia, to Norway, to Singapore — and now to Canada, premiering Nov. 6 on CBC Gem.
The reality TV production pairs neurodivergent people — including those diagnosed with autism — with different celebrities from their respective countries and has them ask questions of the famous guests.
On the Canadian series, the celebrities include everyone from Jann Arden, to Maitreyi Ramakrishnan and Howie Mandel. No subjects are off limits, in accordance with show’s stated goal of highlighting “honest, authentic and open interactions” between guests and panel.
Representation highs and lows
The reaction to its various iterations have been mixed: The Guardian called the BBC version “powerful television, a portrait of disabled people that doesn’t go all serious and sombre.” Then there was the takedown of Australia’s version by autistic writer John Delmenico, who called it “full of good questions, talented people and basically every modern ableist trope.”
These preconceptions were all on Wosk’s mind as they headed into their taping session. But, they said, the experience was anything but regressive.
“It felt like this incredible energy in the room and everybody was just positively, I think, feeding off of each other that it just turned into magic,” Wosk said. “I don’t even know how else to describe it, but it felt otherworldly.”
Part of that success, they said, came from the production actually consulting with autistic people. This is a factor often missing in programs that are criticized as condescending.
Such shows, they said, can reduce neurodivergent people to caricatures of themselves. Beyond how they act in real life, decisions in the editing room — from “inspirational” music played whenever they’re onscreen, to reductive marketing ploys, to whether they’re given resources like sensory spaces on set — can play a factor in how they’re depicted.
Wosk said that was avoided in The Assembly by having autistic people involved in as many aspects of its creation as possible.
“This show really sets the precedent of what that can look like.”
Surprising questions
Executive producer Sean De Vries said that the show’s commitment to allowing autistic people to be authentically themselves will be most apparent from the openness of the questions.
“I can tell you, I’m sure many questions surprised them,” he said of their celebrity guests — highlighting one in which Howie Mandel was asked about shaving his head, and whether he shaves any other part of his body.
“A few questions made them uncomfortable, but they all came from a very authentic place, so I think they handled it as best as they could.”
While the show can be seen as a step in the right direction, others have reservations and complaints about the format. Culture writer Sarah Kurchak, who is autistic, said the framing of the show itself can promote an almost voyeuristic reaction from its audience.
“I do feel in its presentation, it can be a little tokenized,” she said, noting that she hasn’t seen the Canadian release, but has seen the series’ British and Australian versions. “In terms of, like: we have no filter.”

That can come about, she said, in shows that take neurodivergent thought processes and play them for laughs. In reality, she said, when you have a person with a “differently wired brain that’s in a world that isn’t necessarily built for you,” perspectives and curiosities will naturally differ.
That results in questions that may seem atypical, she said. Any series that highlights that difference, and centres how autistic people may approach and engage with the world, is a good step, she said.
But she also noted that the central premise of the show — that questions from autistic people are atypical enough that non autistic audiences can be titillated simply by hearing them — could be problematic.
She said that can be seen in the tendency to pass around viral clips framed as “sweet” or “heartwarming,” when autistic people should be viewed as complex, diverse and fully capable humans just as deserving of respect as anyone else.
There is a similar risk going into Canada’s iteration of the show, she said, noting that the participation of autistic people throughout the production makes The Assembly a good step forward, if not the best step possible.
“The more that we are seen as human beings, part of the human experience, and the less that we’re seen as someone else’s creative exercise — someone else’s tragedy, someone else’s fear model or someone else’s amusement — the more we can finally just be the people we are,” she said. “And be part of this world, which includes art and entertainment.”
Wosk understands the trepidation and says it’s a criticism prevalent in the neurodivergent community, partly because nothing will ever be one hundred per cent satisfying or without faults.
When it comes to this and other attempts, they said, what matters most is doing your best. In this space, they said, that means involving autistic people.
“I want to ensure that when autism is spoken about or represented in media that we’re consulted with, we are part of every facet of it,” Wosk said. “And I think this show really sets the precedent of what that can look like.”

