“Stranger Things”: Doing Right by Feminism

What should feminism in film look like? Is it a band of women standing in solidarity? More female leads and fewer male cast members? The patriarchy being toppled to the ground? I’ve seen versions of all these possibilities but I have to say that, when done well, feminism in film has less to do with being in your face than it does with embedding itself within your psyche. It’s feeling empowered when you leave the theater or turn off your TV, maybe not by any outward signs of feminine emancipation but, perhaps, by a subliminal message that remains deeply rooted in your woke unconscious.

In the two years since the rise of the Me Too and Time’s Up movements, there has been a noticeable spike in interest over gender inclusivity and equality in nearly all fields, but especially film. Following the Harvey Weinstein exposé toward the end of 2017, Hollywood was marked by social upheaval. The era of clandestine cover-ups and hush-hush sexual misconduct had come to a rather sudden end. Not only were predators being cut out root and stem, but there was a demand to see fictional female characters reflect the same level of dogged tenacity that their real-life parallels maintained.

We started to see more women participating in the industry — both on camera and off — but that does not necessarily mean that feminism has been well-represented as a result. I found myself going to see highly anticipated films but, more often than not, feeling after the credits rolled that something had been forced down my throat. Feminism, it seemed to me, had fallen prey to tokenism.

I sat idly by as a sequence of Captain Marvel (2019) unfolded before my eyes showing the protagonist taking repeated blows to her womanhood throughout her life, just to stand up — both literally and figuratively — against the patriarchy. A feeling of disappointment overwhelmed me afterward. This was Captain Marvel we were talking about. She beat the patriarchy just by existing, and any other displays of victory just seemed unnecessary.

The female characters gathering in “Avengers: Endgame”

Only a month later, Avengers: Endgame (2019) would be released and yet another scene would make me scoff. Toward the end of the film, a clichéd gathering of the female superheroes took place, as if one of the producers had said “We need to appease the feminists, so let’s get all the ladies in frame.” I couldn’t repress the audible “Seriously?” that passed through my lips. Frankly, it seemed like a slap in the face to the dynamic characters that had been years in the making. These were personalities I had come to know and love; storylines I had grown up with.

Both Captain Marvel and Avengers: Endgame went on to hit box-office gold, but I couldn’t help but wonder if they were such roaring successes within the feminist community just because anything was better than nothing; to have some female representation, no matter the capacity, was already better than having none at all.

However, not all hope was lost. Just as there seemed to be copious amounts of tokenism flooding the industry, there were also moments of pure, unadulterated female empowerment that did not come at the expense of a character’s development or the audience’s emotional investment. One such instance was Season 3 of Stranger Things. I found myself awestruck at how the Duffer brothers managed to have a show that mainly features children so aptly represent what billion-dollar budgets had failed to do when it came to feminism.

I watched as Max and Nancy enlightened Mike on women’s lib. In a daring, but wholly justified, statement toward the middle of the season, Max says “The fact is, [Eleven’s] not yours. She’s her own person, fully capable of making her own decisions” which was reinforced by Nancy’s “She is her own person, with her own free will.” My reaction to seeing that scene, no matter how inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, was to clap my hands to the tune of “That’s right. That’s RIGHT.” I felt so gratified by what had transpired between these characters that I could barely contain myself.

In a matter of seconds, the show had put into words what I felt like the whole world needed to hear at that time, especially at the heels of the Kavanaugh hearings that had taken place only months earlier. It felt like a win. Finally, I was seeing the kind of representation in film that I felt I deserved, that every woman deserved.

But it wasn’t that minute exchange alone that sold me on the merits of Stranger Things when it came to female liberation; I also grew fond of the constant reminders throughout Season 3 that women can’t go it alone. There is no version of a happy ending where only one sex prevails. There can be no Eleven without Mike, no Nancy without Jonathon, no Joyce without Hopper. There needs to be a balance, which is something that sorely lacks within the entertainment industry nowadays.

What’s more, it’s key to recognize that we can’t hold women up to this unerring light and expect absolute perfection. I watched Captain Marvel feeling as though the character was too far at a distance for me to relate to. She seemed to excel at everything and be apologetic for nothing, even when she misstepped. Yet when I watched Stranger Things, I saw strong female leads that were not afraid to admit their mistakes and own up to their failures.

Nancy had a heart-to-heart with her mother about the struggles of being a woman in a man’s world but admitted that she’d been selfish in the pursuit of her dreams to the detriment of those around her, namely Jonathon. And Eleven was near death at the hands of Billy Hargrove when Mike stepped in to save her, not out of a desire to keep her tethered to the yoke of masculine oppression, but out of love. Because even superheroes need help sometimes. These characters felt human, and brought to mind an excerpt from Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women:

“Jo wasn't a heroine, she was only a struggling human girl like hundreds of others, and she just acted out her nature, being sad, cross, listless, or energetic, as the mood suggested. It's highly virtuous to say we'll be good, but we can't do it all at once, and it takes a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull all together before some of us even get our feet set in the right way.”

There may be no perfect character, perfect heroine, or perfect prose that could ever totally encapsulate the nuances of feminism in film, but it’s the perfectly imperfect stories that get closest to hitting the mark. Who would have thought that a sci-fi thriller TV show could have been just the thing to redeem women’s lib in an industry where it was sorely lacking? I suppose stranger things have happened.