Girl Talk: Heroine & Villainess – Will and Fear

Rouge and I were talking about how a consensus list we were looking at was a tad too male-oriented. And in this process, I realized that for every list that I’ve seen, it has always been a tad too male-oriented. That is, the protagonists or the villains are often male, and the girls are often just a second thought. It’s understandable somewhat, considering the majority of the people voting for these lists are male.

So we invited the girls we knew to each pick one heroine or female protagonist, and one villainess to write however much they’d like to write about them, in which ever form they’d like.

This is not an exercise in excluding the male species, necessary. I think men have insightful things to say about female characters. But I feel there is a lack of female’s voice in this aspect, and I think there is a lot to be learned from female perspectives that are not often displayed. Besides, the characters themselves are often portrayed through male lens anyway, so I’m not worried about the lack of male perspective. This would be an opportunity to find out what the girls think about their portrayal on screen. We may do something about male contributions after the girls have spoken?

So I’ll start the series with my entry. Enjoy!

Heroine & Villainess – Will and Fear

by Aurelle

Satsuki & Mei – My Neighbour Totoro ( Miyazaki, 1988 )

Hayao Miyazaki originally intended for there to be only one girl in his master work, My Neighbour Totoro. However, considering the logistic of what was supposed to go into the story, he had to split it into two – Satsuki and Mei. For this series, I feel that it would be justified to name these two girls as my one heroine because they were intended to be one, and because they present slightly different shades of the same character Miyazaki had in mind.

My Neighbour Totoro begins with 10 year-old Satsuki Kusakabe and 4 year-old Mei Kusakabe being driven by their father, Tatsuo Kusakabe (a university professor), to their new home in the country side. This relocation is supposed to bring them a bit closer to where their mother is currently residing: at a hospital where she is being treated for an undisclosed illness (confirmed by Miyazaki to be tuberculosis, though it is not mentioned in the film). The film follows their adventure in this new place near the woods, and their subsequent encounter with their “neighbour” Totoro – a grey and white forest spirit whose friends include smaller Totoros that Mei first follows around.

I hate to hypberbole, for there are other fantastic pictures about childhood wonderment (Spirit of the beehive and 400 blows come to mind), but there is no other film quite like My Neighbour Totoro. One has the feeling that the film and its characters are distilled from a purely joyous place, undiluted with fear of ‘the other’ – be it a big giant monster, a dark road, a house that is ‘haunted’, or a forest full of unknowns.

When Satsuki and Mei first encounter a kind of “supernatural” creature – the soots in their bathroom – they burst through other rooms to see if there are more soots elsewhere. There is no cowering at the feet of their father because the house is “haunted.” When Satsuki discovers that there is a door that leads up to a dark attic, the two girls – in true horror-movie fashion – creep up the stairs, cautious but curious. Satsuki immediately runs and opens the windows to let the lights in. Seeing that there is no soot, even though they could sense something is moving around, Satsuki runs downstairs to help her father. Mei lingers back, hoping that the soots would appear. And when one finally shows itself, she claps her hands together to capture it and runs downstairs for a show and tell.

Upon the discovery that the soot is gone from her hand, Mei is disappointed that she is not able to “convince” others of her discovery. This is where the film starts to show its true bias/colour: both the old neighbour and her father are fully supportive of her “imagination,” telling her about possible soots that live in places where people do not. Here, the adults display an incredible sensitivity towards a child’s imagined world, encouraging and trusting the child’s instinct and story. Maybe this is the basis from which characters like Satsuki and Mei could have grown; sensitivity to children’s imagination can foster the healthy kind of curiosity and imagination displayed in abundance here.

A second significant event leading up to the discovery of the big Totoro occurs while Mei spends her time exploring their natural garden one afternoon. She spots a small Totoro, and follows it not-so-discretely to its hiding place. Instead of being cautious and fearful of the little creature, she is held captive by the sneaky creature, with little worries about her own safety. At this age, given a healthy parenting style, most kids would not be afraid to follow strange creatures around. Where Mei differs is that she has a complete disregard for possible threats (big body, big teeth Totoro) and unknown intentions. Her curiosity and affection for others completely overshadow any sort of fear (albeit healthy) for giant creatures that could deal a world of hurt.

When Satsuki finally clues into the existence of Totoro, she is incredulous yet welcoming of the creature. Now, it’s possible that a four year old would not know any better to fear a possibly dangerous character. After all, even though fear may be a default position for some kids, especially when they are raised to fear the ‘others’, many children would simply be too curious to care. However, Satsuki is ten – she would be more experienced with things that could go wrong and she would have learned some sort of fear. Yet, there she is lending her umbrella to the big Totoro on a side of the street in a dark forest. She is a testament to the spirit that Miyazaki tries to achieve with this film that I think is particularly useful for girls: to live unafraid.

Many girls lose their sense of curiosity and fearlessness as they start to enter their teenage years and beyond. Girls are taught to be cautious, to be the gate-keeper, to keep themselves in check, to close in. Danger lies in every road taken, or so we’re told. Curiosity and fearlessness are not valued then, even if these qualities are present within us. If anything, curiosity is associated with the opening of Pandora’s (a female character) box, with pussy cats (an animal often associated with girls) getting killed.

The ability to face the world unafraid helps build a large part of self-confidence. Many girls are afraid to express and do things for themselves for all sorts of reason. They do not believe in their own competence, or their own worth. In Totoro, there is a sense of trust the girls have in the place they belong to and in their connection with others. Their curiosity is an invitation for exploration, not exploitation. While it is true that there’s more danger beyond the woods than there is in Totoro, their trust enables them to discover a world they would not have known otherwise.

What I really respond to in these young girls is their ability to walk unafraid. In my sheltered way, for a long time growing up, I did not know that confidence was something atypical in women. Even though I consider myself an AWESOME and confident person, I am afraid of some things too. I don’t think it’s possible to be never afraid of anything – it’s pretty natural to be afraid of some things that could really hurt me. However, on the occasion that I pull back because of some unnecessary fear, I hope to be able to remind myself that I, too, was once Satsuki and Mei, and I could be where they are again. Theirs is a kind of courage not often promoted in our society, especially in girls and women. That’s why they are my heroine – they remind me of how intelligent and fearless girls can be. And how wonderfully joyous the sense of discovery that’s sparked from curiosity can be – even for a girl.

Annie Wilkes – Misery (Reiner, 1990)

I had a hard time picking a character for this category. As far back as I can remember, I’ve always preferred the villainess over the goody-two-shoes girls. Picking one I love is way too easy; I could cite anyone from Mystique in X-men to the Alien Queen in Aliens to Lady Kaede in Ran. What attracts me to these characters is their willingness to go to great lengths to get what they want using whatever awesome talents they have and breaking a few rules along the way. And it’s extremely important that they have talents and/or the smarts to get what they want. There’s nothing worse than a flailing, irritating, clueless girl with a knack for self-and-others’ destruction. I find many of the so-called rebellious girls (often, funny enough, in the protagonist role) to be ridiculously annoying in their quest to oppose for the sake of opposing, clueless as to what they actually want and how they can get what they want. That’s just stupid?

So instead of choosing amongst the many women who break rules, I’ve made it harder on myself and find someone I actually view as a “villainess” proper – someone whose evil fate and destruction I would actually root for, someone I plain don’t like to be around very much. After much deliberation, I’ve decided to not go with Ringu’s Sadako, even though there is no other villainess who can scare the crap out of me like she can. To this day, I can not watch Ringu without covering my eyes and using my blankie as a shield against her evil-ness. Every time I wanted to pick the DVD up for purchase, I had to put it down because my irrational fear tells me that she’s simply too evil to have in my home. SERIOUSLY? I may not believe in spirits or greater beings or God, but I sure as hell believe in the evilness of Sadako.

Now that I’ve spent so much time and energy talking about everything but my pick, may be I can sum it up in one paragraph? Woo hoo! Alright let’s talk about Annie Wilkes in Misery. What can I say about Annie Wilkes? Whereas Satsuki and Mei’s fearlessness encourages growth, Annie’s willfulness seeks to smother it. As a fellow female of the species, I am embarrassed to say that this character is only ever so slightly fictional. There are very manipulative, destructive women out there who bear the absolute conviction that they know what is best for another person and will go to great lengths to keep that person attached to them. It’s not just the normal kind of clinginess either. It’s a whole sick, twisted dependency on others that lead them to attempts at smothering the growth of others for their own self worth. It’s maternal-instinct gone horribly wrong. Instead of being protective and nurturing, they are possessive and stifling. They hold on to the belief that the other person actually loves and needs them, partly because they. sacrifice. so. much. They make for an awfully miserable company. What is worse is that there is absolutely nothing interesting about them other than the fact that they are parasitic. They spend so much time scheming about another person’s life that there’s little else to their own. Their spirit is lacking, their inner life is barren, their outer life is boring. Annie Wilkes is the perfect example of such women. There may be some exaggeration in the details of her story, but she is very real, very true to these women in many ways. They’re the real-life villainess in my eyes, and if you ever have the misfortune of actually living with them, run, run for your life!

So there you go. I picked a particularly awful model for women everywhere. I think there’s no other villainess I disapprove of more, though Annie does make for a good movie character. For a horror movie!