Recently, my “For You” page has been flooded with content about the 2019 movie adaptation of Little Women. One trend I’ve noticed is how fans (myself included) absolutely adore the character Amy March. In the first half of the movie, Amy cruelly burns her sister’s handwritten manuscript. However, she’s also strategic, pragmatic, and socially intelligent. Throughout the rest of the film, her earlier actions are not forgotten, but they’re outweighed. Her positive qualities make her not just forgivable, but complex and admirable. It’s made me realize this is a broader trend in media: when it comes to creating adored female characters, the key is not moral perfection, but a calculated balance of flaws and strengths.Â
Female characters can be cruel if they’re also intelligent and strategic. They can be selfish, as long as they’re ambitious and disciplined. A good example is Miranda Priestly in The Devil Wears Prada. She’s cold, demanding, and emotionally distant. You might expect her to be disliked, but the opposite is true. Fans are fascinated by her, admiring her strong and unapologetic nature. That’s because she’s not just a cold business woman. Rather, she’s a powerful and competent business woman who rose to the top of a notoriously cutthroat industry. Her flaws are seen as acceptable because they allowed her to become as successful as she is.Â
The admiration of Blair Waldorf in Gossip Girl follows this same pattern. She’s manipulative, elitist, and controlling. Yet she’s practically worshipped online because those flaws are inseparable from her status, beauty, and social power. But what if Miranda and Blair were cold and controlling without being so successful? Would they be seen as icons, or would they just be insufferable?
Why these female characters are admired might seem obvious. Of course, we like redeemable people more than people who aren’t. However, this pattern has serious consequences in real life. A woman can be abrasive to coworkers if she’s indispensable to the company. She can be demanding only once she’s highly accomplished. But most women aren’t like these extreme outliers, oftentimes making mistakes without compensating with extraordinary beauty, success, or likability.Â
The problem I see is not that complex female characters are written as strong and capable. Obviously those qualities are worth portraying. The problem is that to be respected despite their flaws, they also have to be exceptional in some other way. The blend of flaws and strengths must be carefully calculated so that flaws are always justified. This might make for dramatic storytelling, but it reflects a damaging pattern: women can be imperfect as long as they’re perfectly imperfect.