Wonder Woman 1984 is out at theaters and streaming freely on HBO Max! In 2017, Wonder Woman broke out to the adoring approval of women and men around the world, giving us all a top tier superheroine. This time around, Diana Prince had higher expectations but fell a bit short of the mark. The film isn’t terrible, but I just found myself irritated by the sloppy writing and incoherent plotlines, only to slip back into a stretch of satisfying viewing. Bizarrely, Wonder Woman is half Bruce Almighty and half Superman 4: The Quest for Peace.
Some critics completely trash the movie, while others heap gushing praise at the stunning and brave topics. Honestly, though, the film really doesn’t fall into either extreme category. In the end, I believe the Wonder Woman brand is left intact, but the clashing styles, bad plotlines, and mixed messaging will doom Wonder Woman 1984 to fade fast once the hype runs out.
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly
Warning! Spoilers ahead.
We should give Wonder Woman 1984 some fair credit. The opening sequence is excellent. We get a great and fully realized depiction of Themyscira. The female-dominated society looked pretty awesome and I enjoyed the over-the-top obstacle course. Although I found it odd that a little girl would compete against seasoned female warriors in a goddess-level Olympics. I also liked that Diana cheats to try and win, only to be disqualified. Despite the dishonest effort to win, I was surprised that Diana avoids any serious scolding. I don’t know about you, but cheating in something like the Olympics carries a major stigma and is grounds for immediate public shame. The film largely glosses over the ethical dilemma and her mother instead lavishes young Diana with optimistic praise about seeking truth. The opportunity to teach Diana a lesson about tempering personal ambition or extraordinary ability was lost here.
I was pleased to see Diana Prince struggle more in this film. The persistent Mary Sue problem that stalks so many modern superheroines is mostly absent. I like Wonder Woman because she comes across as vulnerable and authentic. Wonder Woman even bleeds from a gunshot at one point and we discover that she’s losing her powers. But again, the rules for her “weakened” state are totally inconsistent. She still has her powers. She’s just “weakened” in a general, undefined sense, which made it hard to gauge the danger Wonder Woman faced at any given time.
Secondly, Gal Gadot delivers a solid performance. At times, I feel like the personal charisma of the actress, alone, is the driving force behind the success of the Wonder Woman franchise. Gal shows a wide range of emotions and manages to balance vulnerability and compassion with confidence and certitude, which isn’t always an easy balance.
I also found Chris Pine’s performance to be a good compliment. He and Gal have decent chemistry and his supporting role is positively portrayed. After seeing the trailer, I really doubted the film would provide an adequate reason for his reappearance 40 years later, but the film does explain it and it works. He was good and his presence gave the sequel a sense of continuity. However, the writers decided to give Steve Trevor a different body and face, as if he took possession of another human being. Then, the movie just plows ahead and pretends he’s Chris Pine anyway. WHY? This was so needlessly confusing and caused so many questions.
I heard a lot about the main villain being a Donald Trump knockoff as well. While the movie does attempt to make the comparison, in my opinion, the comparisons were pretty light. If anything, the movie devotes more time to knocking former president, Ronald Reagan.
I thought Kristen Wiig showed some potential as a secondary villain. For most of the film’s opening, she carried the villain origin story with excellent presence and intrigue. Then she gets lost. She resurfaces near the end for a showdown battle, but the epic fight took place in the dark. I could barely follow the action. The look for the supervillain, Cheetah, didn’t quite work either. I couldn’t quite follow how a socially awkward corporate woman ended up looking like a character from the play, Cats.
The problems with Wonder Woman 1984 are maddening because so many could have been fixed with better editing and adjustments to the script. Other problems arise in theme, pacing, and style. The golden armor, for example, is a good look, but totally mismatched to the situation. Wonder Woman doesn’t need the armor. It has no special powers. The golden armor is primarily symbolic of a woman’s stand against patriarchy, according to the backstory. But Wonder Woman dons that symbolic armor when she fights a female villain, so the symbolism is lost and devolves to a focus on style over substance.
There are scenes where she appears to be using her lasso to glide through the clouds. But then, at other times she appears to be able to control her physical body like Superman and shift directions. It’s actually never clear whether Wonder Woman can straight up fly.
And why the 1980’s? The setting seems to be hopelessly out of place and adds nothing to the dynamism and relevancy of Wonder Woman. When Steve Trevor tries to understand the 1980’s, I felt that the film trapped itself into a long montage of bringing him up to speed in comedic ways. Diana mostly follows a few paces behind Steve, grinning at his confusion. The movie goes over an hour without any serious Wonder Woman action. A plotline that tackles the nuclear arms build-up between the Soviet Union and the United States is outdated at best. Why not have a modern setting and tackle modern problems?
The invisible jet finally makes its appearance. The scene where Diana and Steve fly through a sky full of fireworks is one of the best sequences in the movie. But everything else is so dang clumsy. When Diana and Steve realize they must travel to Cairo, Egypt, they immediately decide to steal a museum jet rather than simply buy plane tickets. There’s absolutely no reason to break so many laws and resort to the theft of a military-grade vehicle. Diana remembers how to summon invisibility so off-handly that I wondered if the jet segment was added in post-production. The whole purpose behind the need for invisibility is specifically to avoid radar detection. However, the jet still physically passes through clouds, which means that radar waves can still locate them. Lastly, neither Diana’s ability to summon invisibility nor the invisible jet were ever mentioned again in the film. These are just lazy mistakes that go away with better writing.
The story then shifts to Egypt in a ham-fisted manner. Although the setting seemed to be out of place, I did enjoy some of the action between Wonder Woman and the armored vehicles. The superheroine pursuit came across as very entertaining and both my young sons reacted excitedly when Diana performed some larger-than-life superheroine moves—always a good sign. I particularly liked the scene where Wonder Woman is pinned between two armored vehicles and she strains to leg press them apart.
The film is also extremely loose on the nature of the villain and his actual abilities. He’s able to grant wishes. But sometimes, he seemed able to grant only one wish per person, and then at other times, he could grant multiple wishes. I never fully settled in with Maxwell Lord. He could trick people into making wishes by having them simply agree with a wish that he verbalized and then could simply name his price in return. It just seemed a little too easy. Twice, his son makes a wish to see his father more, which I thought would throw a monkey wrench into Maxwell Lord’s plans, but the film never follows up with the son’s wishes. And if the ending is meant to fulfill the son’s wishes, then did Maxwell Lord actually change through free will, or was it merely the effect of the wish?
Also, all the wishes in this film are negative. Not a single person wished for world peace or a cure for cancer. What happens when wishes are contradicted? When pressed to make a wish, why didn’t Diana wish for Maxwell Lord to lose his powers, or for the ancient artifact to be destroyed? This wish-fulfillment scenario was handled better in Bruce Almighty, where a comedy allows such an outrageous plot to both exist and yet be treated light-heartedly.
Despite all these criticisms, I still found some enjoyment watching Wonder Woman 1984. The character of Diana Prince as Wonder Woman is just plain likable. She comes across as genuine and serious as a superheroine. In many ways, I feel like good casting and solid acting compensate for the bad writing that mars the film. I can see many people watching and enjoying the movie, but the convoluted patchwork of a story won’t generate multiple viewings.
The first film featured mythological themes where Diana had to confront Ares, the god of war. So, facing off with a used car salesman and an insecure corporate woman seems like a major downgrade. I’d like to see some stronger themes for Wonder Woman. I’d like a deeper exploration of her struggles as a goddess among mortals. I want a more straight forward conflict. I’d like to see a stronger villain. And why doesn’t Wonder Woman get celebrity status or exciting press coverage in her world the way Superman, Batman, or Spiderman gets? That would add to her legend and mythology.
Ah well. We’ll get more Wonder Woman. And I think most of us will welcome her back for her third installment in the franchise. But the future of Wonder Woman is still grounded squarely in the success of the 2017 film.
Douglas A. Burton is an award-winning author whose current project centers on heroic women in fiction. For more, check out his website at douglasaburton.com
The premise of Mulan was ripe to make a bold statement about heroic women and cultural norms. Instead, Disney just made a movie and missed a major opportunity to deliver a powerful heroine. I care deeply about the portrayal of heroic women in fiction and the art of storytelling. And through that lens, Mulan 2020 falls short because the film’s attitude toward heroic women stays clouded.
Mixed Message #1 – Female Individuality is Subordinate
Mulan is the perfect character to teach us about the importance of individual risk and aspirations in relation to culture and social norms. However, in Mulan 2020, the heroine’s journey merely appears to support Mulan’s individual goal. By the end of the film, family approval and cultural duty swallow up Mulan’s individuation. It’s a total clash. Mulan must subordinate herself to the judgment of her family’s patriarch. Her reward? Mulan gets to serve the emperor! Our heroine eventually submits to the very family values and social codes in which she fought against to break free. According to Mulan 2020, female individuation must eventually answer to the cultural powers that do not change their minds in this film about the role of women in society. They simply make an exception for her.
Mixed Message #2 – Female Ability Comes from Magic
In Mulan 2020, feminine excellence is the result of a random surplus of “chi,” which is an inner force. This internal force is apparently wasted on Mulan since women can’t be warriors, and so she must hide her chi and conform to society. Why is this film afraid to show Mulan attaining great ability as a consequence of hard work, discipline, and practice—you know, three dimensions that apply to real life and real women? Why does Mulan 2020 suggest that inner magic is mostly responsible for Mulan’s heroic actions and abilities? When she leaps over armies and gallops through an avalanche, we aren’t seeing the results of her human potential unmasked—no, we’re merely spectating magical abilities. Mulan should show us that women who don’t prefer traditional gender roles can get the job done if given the opportunity. The movie should have demonstrated that there are Mulans all around us—that having a society that allows individuals to choose their path is better than one that has a path imposed upon them.
Mixed Message #3 – Gender Roles Remain
Mulan is a young woman who can save her native culture from an outside threat. However, her society isn’t looking for her and worse, even if they found her and knew of Mulan’s skills—society would still reject her. Here we see a non-western civilization with its own oppressive gender roles. We meet Mulan, who will bring dishonor to her family and abandon domestic duties if she challenges gender roles. The film sets up the problem wonderfully. However, the film doesn’t follow through. In the end, Mulan’s heroic actions do not bring about any long-term change. She earns the begrudging approval of a few key influencers. Mulan herself makes very few comments about her plight and remains rather quiet overall. While the character of Mulan hides from the Chinese Imperial Army, I feel like the script tries to hide her from modern-day Chinese censors.
And finally, in terms of modeling heroic behavior for young girls (and boys), I guess the message is: pray that you have more chi than everyone else. If not, then you’d better be prepared to conform to traditional gender roles. “Knowing your place” remains the source of honor for women by the end of the movie.
Mixed Message #4 – The Reality of Hidden Identity
The film couldn’t pick between serious drama and magical fantasy and so, the matter of hidden identity was mishandled. I mean, what’s it really like? Mulan 2020 is a live-action film about a woman who must hide from her entire culture in order to save it. A disguise that works flawlessly in a cartoon must now be convincing in live-action. Real men in a real male-only army camp surround her. The film should have aimed higher in exploring the difficulties of a woman passing as a man. In truth, Mulan looked like a woman in disguise through most of the film. In one scene, she merely wanders off to secretly bath at night. But “real” army camps have pitched guard posts, vigilant patrols, and strict time-tables to catch deserters or spies. Soldiers would question a warrior that routinely skips bathing. If you’re going to do live-action, you must solve for these realities, which could have intensified all the tension and touched on real-world issues—instead, the live-action works against the film.
Mixed Message #5 – No Fun
In the end, Mulan 2020 just isn’t very fun. Was this supposed to be a fun film for kids? Who was the target audience? The somber overtones of duty and honor hung like a cloud over the movie. And the removal of beloved characters, like Mushu, left the film feeling vacant and without any heart. Instead, the film replaced Mushu with a symbolic phoenix (not a character) that has no speaking lines. All the charm and splash of the animated Mulan is completely missing in this film. It’s just too serious.
Mulan 2020 had a beautiful opportunity to make a bold statement about a heroine who forced society to confront its limited view of women in general and gender roles in particular. The timing for such a film was perfect. The audience was ready. The filmmakers, surprisingly, were not.
Douglas A. Burton is an award-winning historical fiction author who cares deeply about popular depictions of heroic men and women. His ongoing work on heroic women in fiction centers on the mythology and recurrent themes of heroine-centric stories. He believes that the heroine’s labyrinth model is a serious alternative to the male-oriented hero’s journey. For more, visit douglasaburton.com.
Welcome to the fifth article in a series that looks at the heroine archetype as a distinctive cultural figurehead in narrative fiction. This article expands on the “heroine’s labyrinth” storytelling model as a serious alternative to Joseph Campbell’s hero’s journey. In short, there are many patterns and recurrent themes in heroine-led fiction that deserve a closer look. And although the female-oriented heroine is given credit here, her message is universal and inclusive to all of us.
Click on the video below for an awesome recap of the heroine’s labyrinth:
Here are the story elements of the heroine’s labyrinth that we’ve covered so far:
Heroine-centric journeys tend to be circular and inward through her native culture, rather than linear and outward away from her native culture.
Heroines are often tangled in a web of social norms from their native culture.
Most villains are a duplicitous “minotaur” archetype who are typically members of the heroine’s native culture, rather than a menacing “dragon” archetype from outside the native culture.
Half man, half beast – the minotaur is often “masked”, showing a publicly generous face, but disguising an oppressive activity.
Heroines must unmask the minotaur before the final battle.
The heroine’s final battle does not take place in a faraway place, but usually occurs inside the home (or on home turf that is supposed to be safe).
The heroine often models behavior for breaking certain gender roles or traditional social norms.
Heroines often exhibit a “shield-maiden” moment by physically interposing themselves between the unmasked minotaur and a potential victim.
The Beast as Ally
This concept alone triggered the whole idea of the heroine’s labyrinth as a separate storytelling model. While listening to Professor Hannah B. Harvey’s university course, The Art of Storytelling: From Parents to Professionals, Hannah discussed the recurrent mythology of Little Red Riding Hood in terms of fairy tales. The common ingredients are an innocent girl, a masculine beast in disguise, and an attempt by the beast to prey upon the girl. Professor Harvey indicated that Little Red Riding Hood is a universal theme about budding womanhood and a cautionary tale about the choices that lay ahead for a young heroine. While these archetypes and themes are very familiar to all of us, I realized that they don’t appear in the hero’s journey. Is there a storytelling model for heroines that has its own path?
Yes.
While Professor Harvey is exactly right, I believe there’s more here than budding womanhood alone. If we take a closer look at how the themes in Little Red Riding Hood play out in other tales–from the Dorothy Gale’s Wizard of Oz to Sarah Connor’s Terminator saga to Carol Danver’s Captain Marvel–we’ll see that heroines are modeling deeper wisdom and showing us how to save the world their way.
So, to discuss the phenomenon of the innocent heroine and the dangerous beast, I’d like to spotlight the concept of xenopathy. The Greek word “xeno” means “stranger” or “foreigner,” as in xenophobia. And the Greek word “pathos,” which means “feeling” or “emotion,” as in sympathy or empathy.
The villain in most heroine-centric stories is typically a minotaur archetype. The heroine is justified in fearing the minotaur and in committing herself to defeat this villain. And as discussed in earlier articles, the minotaur is particularly dangerous in that he (or she) is often masked, simultaneously providing material benefit and material oppression.
And yet, while the animal masculine clearly presents a real-world danger to the heroine, there is almost always a second, almost mirror image of the minotaur archetype: the beast archetype. The heroine almost always forms what I call a “xenopathic bond” with the beast archetype. We confront this imagery time and time again, where the heroine loses her fear of the beast and even attempts to understand the beast. She may suspend a negative judgment or question a widely believed stigma about the beast. Her effort to understand someone who is unlike herself often results in inspiring genuine change, specifically in the destructive nature of the beast. The interaction is not always nurturing either. Quite often, the interaction is confrontational and challenging.
The xenopathic bond is an amazing aspect of heroine-led fiction because it represents a new pathway for solutions within her native culture. The heroine models the real-world actions for cooperation between two unlike individuals as well as an alternative to violent conflict. Sometimes, the recruitment of the beast is the key to defeating the minotaur. The beast often chooses to aid or protect the heroine in the quest to defeat the minotaur. Xenopathy sometimes even causes the heroine to turn against her native culture as Katniss Everdeen did in Hunger Games or Furisoa did in Mad Max: Fury Road. And in the most extreme cases, the heroine may even defect from her native culture and join an outside cause as Carol Danvers did in Captain Marvel or both Gamora and Nebula did in the Avengers saga.
Examples of the Beast as Ally Scenarios in Heroine-led Fiction:
Sarah Connor, who had to fight a terminator to the death in the first film, now finds a mirror image of the terminator stepping out from her past nightmares and offering to assist. Although the alliance is shaky at first, Sarah eventually develops the critical xenopathic bond with the terminator and comes to admire the Beast’s reliability and even relentless pursuit of a goal. They team up in a big way to face down the real minotaur, a disguised, or shape-shifting T-1000.
Special Agent Clarice Starling is trying to hunt down the brutal serial killer Buffalo Bill. However, she also recruits the aid of a mirror image serial killer named Hannibal Lecter. He is a true beast archetype who eats his victims like the big bad wolf. And Buffalo Bill, like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, even wears the skins of his victims. Clarice forms a famous xenopathic bond with Hannibal Lecter, who mentors Clarice by revealing the psychology of a serial killer. There’s a suggestion of a romantic bond, but this appears to be a mostly symbolic nod to the unlikely xenopathic bond, which does lead to a life saved.
Natasha Romanov, also known as the “Black Widow,” faces down super villains on a regular basis. But when superhero Bruce Banner loses control, he becomes the ultimate Beast archetype. He’s wild, out of control, violent, and aggressive. But only Natasha has the ability to form that special xenopathic bond with the Incredible Hulk. The rest of the world attempts to subdue the Hulk through violence. So, we should regard the Black Widow’s compassion as wisdom, a pathway to calm the beast non-violently, so that the more gentle Bruce Banner can return.
King Kong has perhaps one of the most famous Beast as Ally motifs. While the entire world views the giant gorilla as a terrifying monster that must be destroyed, heroine Ann Darrow forms a xenopathic bond with Kong, and sees an almost human light in the animal’s eyes. Although Kong is obviously possessive of the heroine, she recognizes that King Kong is also a victim of a human society that is quick to destroy whatever it fears. From the top or the Empire State Building, Ann attempts to defend King Kong from approaching warplanes. I think they are wrong to say that beauty killed the beast. Man killed the beast and beauty tried to save it.
In the Twilight saga, Bella Swan attracts and befriends two beast archetypes, Edward Cullen and Jacob Black. One is a blood-thirsty vampire who must restrain himself, and the other a shape-shifting werewolf. The two “beasts” compete to aid and protect the heroine throughout the story.
Game of Thrones is loaded with the Beast as Ally themes. In fact, almost every single heroine in Game of Thrones forms a xenopathic bond with a member of a foreign culture. And as such, these heroines direct entire plot lines at times by forming alliances between two unlike cultures. These heroines create the potential for peace. One successful example is Ygritte, who forms a xenopathic bond with Jon Snow, who is member of the Crows, the sworn enemy of her native culture. However, her bond with John will eventually put an end to the centuries-old conflict between the Wildlings and the Night’s Watch.
Daenerys Targaryen forges the most famous alliance with Khal Drogo, who is a supreme example of the beast archetype. He becomes one of the most fearsome and unforgettable allies in the series and Daenerys joins his culture, while Drogo pledges himself to her cause. Brienne of Tarth bonds with the notorious Jaime Lannister. Margaery is paired with the villainous and monstrous Joffrey. Arya Stark befriends the murderous Hound through a series of adventures. The most dangerous warrior in the show, the Mountain, is eventually brought into the service of protecting Cersei around the clock. And the healing heroine, Talisa, ends up with Robb Stark. She has true xenopathic dialogue when she tells Robb about her mother’s opinion of the North Men as “stinking barbarians.” But each heroine in Game of Thrones faces the beast archetype and some succeed while others fail to build bridges and forge peace in the world.
A few stories that feature male heroes that feature xenopathic bonds are John Dunbar in Dances with Wolves, Elliot in E.T., and even Bruce Wayne in Batman Begins, who goes out of his way to understand the psychology of the criminal mind. Even Mando, in the new hit series, The Mandalorian, forms xenopathic bond with the adorable baby Yoda and turns against his mercenary culture.
In heroine-led fiction, some of our greatest heroines are modeling heroic behavior that stands on its own. The heroine who faces the beast archetype is establishing much more than merely budding womanhood or expressing a mere attraction to dark masculine forces. She is showing us new pathways, new solutions, and is challenging all of us to rethink old habits, cultural stigmas, or potentially destructive social norms. These recurrent themes are different from the hero’s journey. Heroines are challenging us to look a little closer to home, possibly right in our backyard for modes of change. The wisdom and power of the heroine are truly timeless expressions and universal as well. Regardless of the historical era or degree of freedom, the heroine finds a way to save the world.
And xenopathy, learning to understand someone who is unlike ourselves, is something we can all learn together.
What do you think? Leave a comment below and share your thoughts.
Douglas A. Burton is an award-winning author of ‘Far Away Bird‘, a novel about the historical heroine Empress Theodora. For more, visit douglasaburton.com or you can follow Doug on social media.
Welcome to the fourth installment in a series of articles that looks at the heroine archetype and the recurrent themes found within heroine-centric stories. This article expands on the heroine’s labyrinth for narrative story structure as an alternative to the hero’s journey. Here are the story elements of the heroine’s labyrinth that we’ve covered in previous articles:
Heroines often struggle against the social rules of their native culture.
Villains follow the “minotaur” archetype, who are usually members of the heroine’s native culture.
The minotaur is “masked,” hidden, or disguised, appearing half-benevolent, half oppressive.
Heroines must first unmask the minotaur before the final battle.
The heroine’s final battle is not far off, but often inside the home (or on home turf).
The heroine often provides a model for breaking with certain gender roles or social norms.
Heroine-centric journeys tend to be circular and inward, rather than linear and outward.
This week, I want to discuss one of the most heroic aspects in all fiction, the Shield-Maiden Moment. Structurally, the shield-maiden moment occurs in the third act, right before the final confrontation with the villain. However, it can occur earlier as an emergence moment for the heroine as well. This is a moment where the heroine physically interposes herself in between the minotaur and a defenseless life, typically just a few feet away.
Symbolically, the heroine becomes a human shield against the forces of violence and destruction. She holds her ground and stands face-to-face against brute power as the ultimate and sometimes unexpected first responder. This is a special dynamic for combat in fiction because it carries a dual role. The heroine must not only defeat the fearsome minotaur, who is a serious physical threat, but she must also save another potential victim. The heroine is not acting in the manner of self-sacrifice, although it may appear that way—because her mission cannot allow her to fail. If she’s defeated, not only is she captured or destroyed, but the life she defends will also be captured or destroyed.
How does this contrast with the hero’s journey?
In the hero’s journey, the male-oriented hero typically confronts a menacing “dragon,” who typically comes from outside the native culture. The dragon is exotic, dangerous, and threatens the native culture with destruction or oppression. The hero eventually faces the dragon in single combat. The meaning of the combat is typically a test of worthiness for the hero, with the dark archetype of evil on one side and the light archetype of good on the other. It’s powerful imagery that recurs with serious regularity. Whether it’s Luke Skywalker facing Darth Vader on Bespin, Neo staring down Agent Smith inside the Matrix, or Captain America versus Red Skull in Nazi Germany, the basic design is the same. The hero has undergone their trials and must test their mettle against a villain who doesn’t lose. Like two rams about to rise and smash heads, this recurrent theme tells readers or viewers that we are in the final stages of a story and that the conflict will be resolved in this battle.
For the heroine’s labyrinth, facing a villain while also protecting life is an amazing contrast and perhaps, the most heroic moment in fiction. The Shield-Maiden moment happens whether the heroine has training or not, whether she is prepared or not. And quite often, the minotaur cheats to secure victory. All forms of power and deception are brought to bear upon the heroine, and yet she prevails. She accomplishes her dual mission—to defeat the minotaur in combat and to protect a living being in close proximity. Truly inspiring. Examples of the Shield-Maiden Moment are everywhere. Here are just a few:
In Aliens, Ripley famously marches up to battle the Queen alien in dramatic fashion. She’s facing a monster that has an overwhelming physical advantage. Her famous line, “Get away from her you bitch” almost perfectly captures the heroine’s stunning willingness to face insurmountable odds when her Shield Maiden Moment arrives.
In The Silence of the Lambs, heroine Clarice Starling confronts serial killer Buffalo Bill with defenseless Catherine Martin trapped in well right behind her.
Perhaps one of the most striking examples of the Shield Maiden Moment is in Wonder Woman. Who can ever forget the images of Wonder Woman striding across No-Man’s Land, and then holding up an actual shield while enduring a storm of machine-gun fire, her legs buckling under the strain? She leads the way while the vulnerable Allied infantry mounts a charge across the deadly landscape. Even in the final battle, when Wonder Woman fights the God of War—she must enter battle with Steve Trevor, her love interest, sharing the battlefield with her.
In Moana, the heroic Maui is wounded and without his weapon in the final moments of the battle. He is seconds from destruction as Te Ka rears back for a fatal blow. But, in one of my favorite Shield-Maiden moments, Moana boldly reveals herself by holding up the heart stone to momentarily stop Te Ka. Moana not only makes a stand but goes on to walk bravely up to the villain and heal Te Ka’s heart. This restores the feminine spirit of the world, thus saving it.
In The Terminator, Sarah Connor, who is a server at a diner, fights and defeats an actual terminator while dragging and protecting a defenseless Kyle Reese. Then again, in Terminator 2, Sarah faces down a nearly invincible T-1000 with her son, a young John Connor, standing right behind her.
In Avengers: Infinity War, Scarlet Witch boldly stands against Thanos, summoning a shield of red magic as the overpowering villain closes in. Behind her, a weakened Vision lays on the ground, unable to defend himself.
Brienne of Tarth from Game of Thrones is the ultimate shield maiden. Nearly all her combat involves the valiant protection of life, from Caitlyn Stark to Jaime Lannister. Time and time again, Brienne steps in front of dangerous men as a bodyguard and prevails.
In Avatar, Neytiri takes down Colonel Quaritch in the final battle, while the small human form of Jake Sully, who is physically paralyzed and suffocating, lays in his avatar pod behind her.
In Tangled, Rapunzel duels against her false mother with Flynn Rider laying wounded on the ground at ger back. Again, the heroine’s battlefield is crowded with others.
In The Lord of the Rings, it is Aowyn who steps in front of the Witch-King when King Théoden falls in battle. When the Nazgul declares that “no man can kill me,” she famously responds, “I am no man.” She then destroys the Nazgul while sustaining terrible injuries.
In Kill Bill, Beatrix Kiddo enters combat against Bill while her daughter, whose existence was just revealed to her, stands in the room just a few feet away.
In The Fifth Element, Leloo, herself, is physically the ‘element’ that will shield the earth from a giant ball of black fire. And her powerful mantra is “protect life.” How fitting.
In Ex Machina, the android heroine, Eva, turns and faces Nathan, the minotaur in the center of the labyrinth. Behind her is another captive android woman. Once again, Eva, herself, becomes a physical shield as Nathan smashes Eva’s limbs. Nathan is defeated and Eva escapes the labyrinth.
When the hidden minotaur strikes in Jane Eyre, it is Jane who steps in and saves a defenseless Mr. Rochester during the blazing fire.
Even in The Force Awakens, Rey fights Kylo Ren with a wounded and defenseless Finn laying in the snow behind her.
The next time you’re in danger, hopefully, there’s a heroine nearby.
For a more in-depth look at all the steps in the heroine’s labyrinth, click here.
Ahsoka Tano is one of the greatest Star Wars characters of all time and she’s featured in the most egalitarian Star Wars shows out there, The Clone Wars.
When it comes to the Star Wars universe, the role of heroic women is ever-shifting and in some ways a bit shaky. The original trilogy gave us Princess Leia; the prequels gave is Padme Amidala; the new trilogy put Rey out there, and Rogue One dropped in with Gyn Erso. While all four heroines are arguably iconic in their roles and some are popular, each one has some fair criticism. Princess Leia was never given a central role. Padme was given the dialogue of a cardboard cutout. Gyn gets lost in the crowd. And Rey will be forever haunted by the ghost of Mary Sue.
I say, “Enough negativity!” Let’s talk about the Star Wars heroine who works and, in my opinion, stands among the best of all the Star Wars characters.
You may not have heard of her, but I’m talking about Ahsoka Tano.
Ahsoka Tano hails from the Star Wars animated TV series, The Clone Wars, which has been a buried gem of the Star Wars franchise since 2008. Disguised as a children’s cartoon, the Clone Wars quietly built up a following through sheer force of excellence in writing, animation, voice acting, characters, and storytelling. On Rotten Tomatoes, the Clone Wars is up there with the only the Original Trilogy and at least for now, Disney’s hit series, The Mandalorian. Boasting a level of animation that may never be surpassed on television, The Clone Wars went on to become a multi-award award-winning series, collecting a treasure trove of animation and voice acting awards.
It’s time you discovered it too.
But the Clone Wars series is more than just Star Wars show that “adds” in a few female characters for good measure. Amazingly, they manage this powerful and positive balance without the intrusion of identity politics. Messaging gives way to story. Without a lot of fanfare, the Clone Wars achieves the most egalitarian balance of any Star Wars story. Period.
Women are everywhere in the Clone Wars. The galaxy is embroiled in an epic conflict and women are out in front, leading armies and commanding with confidence. They, themselves, are so comfortable in their leadership roles that you, the viewer, will barely notice or care much about gender and stay focused on what the characters are doing and saying. Women spearhead politics and moral debate. Several planets feature a woman as the leader and cultural figurehead. They inspire uprisings, lead from the front, and make mistakes.
We see plenty of female Jedi, but we also find them in the ranks of the Dark Side. Assaj Ventress in an absolute score for Star Wars villains, a Sith and assassin who hold her own in every episode she’s in. Women are mentors and pupils. They’re good and evil. They’re asserting their presence in the galaxy across the board, true allies and equals of their male counterparts. Without attempting to draw any attention to the incredible representation of women, the Clone Wars is effortless in its egalitarianism. The Clone Wars just lets their characters be themselves.
I’ve studied Ahsoka Tano in-depth and she holds up across every front. She’s heroic. She’s a woman of action. She’s compassionate. She fails time and time again, and I for one, have come to truly admire her as a full character, as rich and dynamic as Luke Skywalker.
I became a genuine fan by episode 19. In one of the Clone Wars’ best episodes, Storm Over Ryloth, Ahsoka Tano is given her first command of a fighter squadron. She’s to lead her clones in an attack on Separatist blockade that is under the command of a fully capable and even cunning Separatist admiral. The animation is up to the task and the action squarely within the Star Wars tradition.
Without her squadron around to defend the fleet, the Republic battleships crumble under a wave of vicious attacks. Ahsoka finally turns back, but not after losing a couple of the clones. And let me say, the clones are all personalized in this show. They have nicknames and personalities of their own. Ahsoka is horrified by the deaths her decision brought and her total failure. As a guy, I never once felt like I was watching a weak girl who didn’t belong on a battlefield meant for men. No, I saw a warrior who took her first loss and swallowed that bitter pill of real consequence. It’s summed up when Anakin, who’s an excellent and compassionate mentor, tells her that losing men is the “reality of command.”
Later in the episode, Ahsoka is again put in charge, but this time of the whole battleship. Her confidence is low. The clone officers openly doubt her, preferring the certitude and experience of Anakin. Ahsoka, herself, has doubts about her ability to lead, especially after such a devastating failure only hours ago. But Ahsoka makes a stand. She devises a brilliant but risky tactical plan and the clone army follows her lead. She carries out the plan herself. The maneuver is successful, and she ends up smashing the blockade and rescuing Anakin Skywalker. Ahsoka overcame her clear failure and endeared me to her character from then on.
Time and time again, we watched as Ahsoka faced real tests and hardships. As the new seasons came out, it became clear that Ahsoka Tano was fast becoming a Star Wars darling. She played her role as Anakin’s padawan to perfection, showing the proper respect to her mentor while daring to challenge him with regularity. She has a mind of her own, even within the military chain of command.
In what I regard as some of the greatest Star Wars there is…up there with the original trilogies—Clone Wars Season 5 concludes with a four-part series that does more to drive home the conflicts and themes of the prequels than even the movies, in my opinion. The democratic institutions are failing. The moral leadership is failing. The military presence is growing. In a bold plotline that foreshadows the events of Revenge of the Sith, Ahsoka Tano is framed for a crime she didn’t commit.
I’ve studied the recurrent themes of heroine-centric stories. And in the epic tradition of the heroine’s labyrinth story model, Ahsoka experiences what’s called ‘the broken truce,’ where the native culture itself turns against our heroine in dramatic fashion. We get our first glimpse of a ubiquitous military that flexing some muscle on the Jedi and the whiff of military dictatorship on the horizon. Admiral Tarkin personally leads the attack on Ahsoka and a conflict arises between Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker and the galactic military, who are bent on her capturing his fugitive padawan.
Incredible drama ensues with the highest quality visuals. Ahsoka is hunted down by a ruthless dragnet of clones and surveillance. The clones who pursue her are the same ones who Ahsoka had led into battle time and time again for five seasons. They don’t care that she was their former commander. They see only an enemy of the state. The writers and animators have full command over the entire palette of Star Wars sounds and images.
Eventually, she is captured, where she is expelled from the Jedi Order. This represents a total failure of leadership and the Jedi abandon one of their finest and turn Ahsoka over to military jurisdiction. Fans are treated to a courtroom drama of high crimes and treason against the Republic, spearheaded by the defending counsel, Padme Amidala and the military prosecutor, Admiral Tarkin, the future Grand Moff. This is a brilliant use of existing characters, who burst to life in a conflict we all care about.
After Ahsoka is finally exonerated, she does something that stands tall in the Star Wars Universe. The Jedi Order apologizes for doubting her and welcome her back into the Order. Anakin is sorry. They’re all sorry. But Ahsoka Tano turns them down flat. A woman with her own thoughts and moral compass, Ahsoka refuses. She walks away from the Jedi Order leaving the entire leadership of Jedi Masters standing wordless in the vacuum of her departure, the Jedi Order is silently judged as “guilty,” never to recover their moral ascendency again. Anakin Skywalker chases her down and pleads with her to reconsider. The dialogue is perfect, the cinematography is stunning, as fine as any movie.
Ahsoka Tano walks away leaving Anakin Skywalker on the steps of the Jedi Temple. It’s the last time these two see each other as friends. They take two very different paths in the wake of a collapsing galactic order.
What happens next?
No one knows because Disney bought LucasFilm and scrapped the Clone Wars under massive protests. Disney’s new TV show, ‘Rebels,’ came out instead. Yet, after a so-so reception for the new series, the writers of the Clone Wars came in and quickly reintroduced Ahsoka Tano. In an episode that features Darth Vader, voiced by James Earl Jones, himself, the dark lord and his former apprentice from the Clone Wars are thrown back in the mix together. Ahsoka senses the hate and anger and even passes out when she learns that the powerful darkness is her former master, Anakin Skywalker.
The two come face-to-face in a showdown that carries the kind of gravity we’ve only seen in the original trilogy. During the confrontation, Ahsoka strikes a blow to Darth Vader, and for a second, fans see the human eye of Anakin Skywalker through the shattered black mask. We even hear Anakin’s once compassionate voice when utters Ahsoka’s name. We see a glimpse of his humanity. The films never showed us Darth Vader like this until after he turned back to the good side. Ahsoka Tano brings this out of him.
Folks, she’s one of the greatest Star Wars characters of all time in my view. These are incredible storylines and character arcs.
All the criticisms that follow the Star Wars heroines of the big screen are absent here. And now, after all these years of silence, Season 7 of The Clone Wars has finally returned to conclude the saga. The newest episodes are available on Disney Plus and I wanted you to know what the hype was all about.
This is a story about the fall of the Republic, the emergence of the dark side, and the rise of a lone heroine who stands tall among the Pantheon of Star Wars greats. If you love heroic women in fiction and Star Wars like I do, then The Clone Wars is for you.
