Wanda Maximoff, Ava Coleman, Regina George, Wednesday Addams, Shiv Roy, Fleabag. All beloved antiheroes. All women who embody characteristics that many girls, including myself, wish we possessed. They’re self-advocating, decisive, shameless, and powerful. Whether or not their displays of power are justified is up to your discretion (supporting women’s rights and wrongs and all that).
Some female antiheroes we love to hate (see Cersei Lannister, Hannah Horvath, Rachel Berry), and some we simply loathe for how much we relate to them. It’s undeniable that more and more iterations of female antiheroes are populating in current media. So, why are women identifying with these characters more than ever?
Just as we might romanticize parts of our lives to escape reality, imagining ourselves through the lens of uncompromising female antiheroes is its own form of catharsis. Like, who wouldn’t want to roundhouse a condescending coworker the way Yelena Belova beats up Hawkeye? Living vicariously through these women (okay, not necessarily through their acts of bloodlust, but rather of female rage and subverting the narrative) we’re afforded a sense of validation. Not to mention, this surrogate experience of viewing antiheroes through our screens can prove as satisfying as a real-life revenge plot, minus the emotional baggage and potential legal consequences.
It’s easy to note how empowering watching women kicking butt and taking what’s owed to them can be, but the greater service these antiheroes render on-screen is through their lived truths. Women can be angry and fallible and vengeful and deceitful but can also crave love, respect, and understanding (or desire none of these things), and they deserve to be represented with all of these nuances. Yet more often than not, female characters, hero or villain, are not afforded this level of depth.
For so long, Hollywood has been afraid of the quote-unquote evil woman, inserting redeeming qualities to round out what would otherwise be a deplorable character. But just as some stories may not end in happily-ever-after, not all characters may be fated for redemption, women included.
Enter Wanda Maximoff, an antihero stained by tragedy. After losing her brother, hometown, lover, and the sons she dreamed of having, Wanda spirals out of control, stopping at nothing to reunite with her family. Despite the trauma Wanda endures, many Marvel fans have demonized her for her actions in “WandaVision” and “Multiverse of Madness.” Yet, when John Wick, a character who’s faced similar tragedy (the death of his wife and the murder of his dog) embarks on a mafia killing spree, he’s completely justified? Please enlighten me.
It’s surprising that more women haven’t become the villain of their own stories, when even a year of groundbreaking female success can be boiled down to targeted digs and the overwhelmingly original “boobie” joke. Instances like this year’s Golden Globes are just a fraction of the denigration, and microaggressions faced by women daily.
“But always stand out and always be grateful. But never forget that the system is rigged. So, find a way to acknowledge that but also always be grateful,” said America Ferrera’s character, Gloria, in “Barbie.” Ferrera’s monologue hits way too close to home following the film’s underwhelming recognition in recent Oscar nominations. While “Barbie” was nominated for eight Oscars, including Ferrera’s best supporting actress nomination, “Barbie” director, Greta Gerwig, and Barbie herself, Margot Robbie, received neither best director nor best actress nominations. Of course, Gerwig still has a chance at taking home best adapted screenplay for “Barbie,” even if she has to split the honor with her husband.
I could go into how The Academy’s perception of Oscar-worthy media largely discriminates against funny, female-forward films and skews toward male-dominated war epics and historical dramas. I could argue that “Barbie” executes a level of craftsmanship and imagination that rivals Oscar nominees at present. But what I really want to know is when society condemned thought-provoking and meaningful media to be morbidly serious? This issue extends beyond gender, but it’s especially prevalent in the case of “Barbie,” a film twining together comedy, fantasy, drama, and the female experience, making box office history, and still, somehow, coming up short. I may not have a systemic solution to Oscar voting bias, but to members of The Academy and “Barbie” haters alike, my first suggestion is this: let your hair down.
To women reading this, even when every night may feel like boys’ night, know that you are loved and deserve everything you want from this world. And you have a voice. And you don’t have to smile more or less. And you don’t have to search your streaming services for an antihero to save you. Look at the women around you. Take a look in the mirror. Most of us don’t exist in either black, white, or Barbie Pink, but instead, we belong in shades of morally gray pastels. And that’s alright.
Words by Alex Armbruster
Graphic by Reem Hinedi
Graphic Assist by Evelyn Venezky