Throughout the illustrious history of Film and Television, the trope of a woman doing things of her own volition has been a mainstay. Usually titled ‘Empowerment,’ it at times focuses on a woman spurned by her partner who is out for revenge (Kill Bill Volume:1), or a lady who simply realises that she no longer is content with oppression (Carrie). Whilst this can certainly be entertaining and enjoyable for audiences, there may be a point at which the story becomes voyeuristic rather than empowering.
To truly evaluate this viewpoint the purpose and importance of the character arc must be fully understood. Simply put, the character arc is the medium by which a character’s development is conveyed. It is what transforms a film from a 2-hour montage to a visual piece of storytelling. It is by no means the primary decider of whether a film will be quality – other aspects such as cinematography, score, and editing are equally important. The arc of a character is closely tied to the narrative arc, and both can affect one another. If a character experiences a sudden change of heart or overwhelming emotion, this will be reflected in the narrative structure. Conversely, when unforeseen events prevent a character from achieving their goals, an opportunity is provided for the emotional intricacies of a character to shine.
That being said, there is a legion of films where, despite the character arc being a minor player, the film is critically acclaimed. In A Hidden Life, Franz Jägerstätter defies expectations and refuses to enlist for Germany during World War 2. He does not change his mind at any point – so, in this case it could be said that the character arc is redundant. Instead, his stoic attitude increasingly angers his fellow villagers to the point where he is executed. If one unflinchingly believes that the character arc is the focal point, then, by that logic, this film would be a tedious affair. Judging by the numerous nominations at the Cannes Film Festival, such an idea is plainly flawed.
Within the arc, tropes are found. The No Film School website describes a trope as ‘the consistent or expected use of certain characters, situations, settings, and time periods across a specific genre.’ Picture a Heist movie. If, without thinking of any particular film, you picture the gathering of a highly skilled team, the execution of the artful theft, and eventual getaway complete with an infamous getaway vehicle, – then you are able to recognise the Heist movie trope.
The trope I want to draw particular attention to is that of the jilted women. ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’ is a quote that comes to mind. Typically, the plot’s inciting incident is the female protagonist being rejected, duped, or assaulted. From that point onwards, she will experience growth and maturity internally, whilst externally achieving a peak physique or fit the mould of a femme fatale.
This trope undoubtedly has a cathartic edge to it. It is refreshing to see a woman have autonomy outside of the patriarchy. This trope also reinforces the idea that a woman does not need a man to be self-assured and happy. It appears that at least on the surface, the ‘jilted’ woman trope could be called empowering as it subverts existing feminine stereotypes and expectations.
But what exactly is empowerment? It has been defined as ‘the power, right, or authority to do something.’ While a character may be empowered by acting of their own volition, this does not necessarily translate into empowerment for the viewer. This is especially so considering that the majority of ‘empowered’ female characters are superheroes or women with refined skill sets. The film industry’s emphasis on extraordinary characters over everyday women is simply a monument to exceptionalism – it is not empowerment.
It should additionally be questioned why a woman must suffer before taking control of her life. Can a woman not successfully exist outside of the patriarchy’s clutch? The ‘jilted’ women trope does not seek to suggest that women are inherently strong or independent. Rather, it suggests that by going through trauma, tragedy or everyday woes, they are made stronger. Perhaps this is why many women feel that after a break-up, they have to improve themselves exponentially. When you further consider how many people believe that women are destined to suffer in this life, this trope becomes unsettling. On average, a woman who is abused will go back seven times before leaving for good. One in five women experience some form of sexual assault in their lifetime. Clearly, the trope’s onscreen empowerment does not translate to real life.
There is also the voyeuristic aspect to consider. Sadly, it is all too common to see the rape of character used to drive the plot forward, or a sexual assault incident portrayed as being a key part of a character’s story. One director who comes to mind when I think about this is none other than M. Night Shyamalan.
In Unbreakable – the film that made Shyamalan a household name – David Dunn (the ‘hero’) comes to the rescue of minor characters who seem to be a sexual predator’s next target. Whilst it could be said that this plot arc serves as a way to depict Dunn’s strength and courage, the CCTV-like footage and camera angles suggest otherwise. The would-be victim is given no agency and is no more than an object. Similarly, in Shyamalan’s Split, Casey Cooke is abducted by Kevin – a man who suffers from Dissociative Identity Disorder (‘DID’). The rape of Casey by her uncle is shoehorned in as making her stronger, and it is what prevents her from being killed later on. It is a misconception to suggest that trauma can make someone more resilient. But, more worryingly, the rape is presented as a part of her personality – as if to explain why she is introverted and purposely gets detentions to avoid other students.
The main issue with Empowerment is its conflation with Voyeurism. Empowerment confines women to the patriarchal ideas of ‘attractiveness’ and ‘likeability’, which is why it can all too easily shift into Voyeurism. Examples of this are easy to find. Consider a superhero movie with a female lead who spends too much time focused on her cleavage. Perhaps a crime thriller in which an independent woman is tortured to death. Or even a teen movie, where a teenager is relentlessly slut-shamed with no indication that this form of bullying/harassment is wrong.
This is not to say that nothing bad should ever happen to a character – storytelling would be a mundane affair otherwise. However, if a plot depends on some form of abuse as the inciting incident without resolution, then it is likely that the plot is insubstantial at best. Likewise, if a character’s only arc revolves around them being ‘empowering’ to the audience, then it should be questioned whether the character has any value. Michaela Coel’s I May Destroy You is a brilliant example of how sexual violence can be an important part of a story without it morphing into a character’s sole attribute. Rape is not the inciting incident of this show – a timely but all too rare breakaway from traditional story arcs involving sexual assault.
As a society, we need to continue to keep having conversations about what empowerment actually is. Is it seeing a female superhero onscreen where her body is still objectified and sold as the ideal shape for a woman? Or is it more about a diversity of films, told by a variety of storytellers, all unique in their own way? Either way, I hope that characters are portrayed as more than just props who are abused, punished, and shunned. I wish them to have agency and nuance even in the face of so-called ‘empowerment.’
