Who’s the Baddest of Them All?

I’m not sure anymore…Cruella, antiheroes, and the gospel

In light of the gospel, what do we do with the antihero trend in Hollywood? As the lines of good versus evil get muddied, should we be appalled, confused, or cheer them on?

The other day, I got roped into being a fill-in character during my youngest daughter’s pretend play session with the neighbor girl. Since the two 6-year-olds both decided to be mermaids and I was the only other living and breathing thing within earshot, I was cast as both the mermaid-killer and the mermaid-healer. I was both the bad guy and the good guy all in one.

First of all, can I just stop and ask the fellow parents out there, Why the inverse relationship between age and ability to engage in imaginative play? I wish I weren’t the norm here, but man is it hard! That aside, I was a mixture of confused and amused in managing these stark contrasts: just as quickly as I was able to muster up some intensely malicious motives for the bad guy, my six-year-old boss ladies had me switching hats to bring on the gentleness and goodness required of me for the rescue.

…the bad guy and the good guy all in one.

For these littles, imaginative play—and from their perspective, the world—is summed up in the theme of good versus evil and the regular people caught in the middle of this epic, since-the-beginning-of-time battle.

My older two (10+) can see beyond the black and white tropes of good versus evil. At their age, there are both genuine as well as conflictingly selfish motives at play in most complex characters with any real potential of becoming household names. Some call these characters who are written into the script in a way that makes them ambiguously neither bad nor good (or simultaneously both) antiheroes.

Axis, the app known for their Teen Culture Translator for parents says of these antiheroes, “they’re rapidly growing in popularity, especially in teen culture. From Deadpool to Rick Grimes to Walter White, antiheroes live and thrive in the ambiguous gray, blurring the lines between right and wrong. Yet,” Axis points out, “we connect with and relate to them on an instinctual level. Why? Because they accurately reflect our flawed humanity.”

To me, that’s exactly the heart of why these Wicked the Musical-esque, character-driven storylines are increasing in popularity. We relate to them. We know that our human experience involves both the flesh and the Spirit and that they are often at war with each other. Romans 8 is quick to point out what we already know after a little time spent in our earthly bodies.

Romans 8 is quick to point out what we already know after a little time spent in our earthly bodies.

Secondly, though the examples named by Axis may be on the extreme side, the villain-driven stories of Disney’s Cruella, Maleficent, Descendants, and even Moana (and the like) teach us that what we see on the surface isn’t always the full story. At all ages, we humans are quick to label evils and to create or name an enemy for the sake of elevating the image of self. These upside-down villain stories where we are asked to see things another way exercises our supramarginal gyrus, the area of the brain that allows us to empathize.

Even Disney’s Toy Story series—where the main characters are personified toys—diverges into the back story of the villain. We are given a window into the sob story of Lotso in Toy Story 3, and it “humanizes” his struggle. Furthermore, what makes Moana such a powerful story is in the understanding of the villain’s painful history: the goddess-turned-lava-monster-then-restored-back-again. When we see that the person who we thought was our enemy has a story and it evokes our emotions, we can empathize. It makes us want to walk in rather than out.

In 101 Dalmatians, all we witness is Cruella’s behavior. In Cruella, we witness her heart. We see her hurt and her shame and as the audience, we are compelled to love her beyond it. We see the injustice she was caused. We see the truth so often is that “our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Ephesians 6:12). There was a higher evil power in Cruella’s (Estella’s) life and it affected her deeply. And in case you haven’t seen it yet, I will not give away the source of that evil influence at play in her life.

In this movie, for better or worse, we are more likely to judge the individual motives of Cruella rather than slap the label of evil on her.

I think it’s for the better. We know that Jesus was both a champion of truth (calling evil “evil,” for example) but in his human interactions, we also know he was a root-cause kind of guy, especially for the underdog or for the misunderstood. Take the story of “The Woman at the Well” for example from John 4. Jesus did not condemn the woman for her unconventional ways and her sin patterns. Rather, he addressed her root cause. She had a satisfaction deficit. Every time she filled her metaphorical satisfaction bucket, she found it empty again all too quickly. It became apparent that she couldn’t find lasting satisfaction in men or in jumping from romantic relationship to romantic relationship. She had tried that, and it was leaving her still thirsty on a soul level. She needed living water, and she needed to know where to find it. Jesus knew the way. It’s through him. He is the living water she was looking for in all the wrong places. He showed her what it felt like to be truly seen, known, and loved in a way in which the men of this world came up short.

Jesus was a root-cause kind of guy. He did not condemn the woman…he addressed her root cause.

So, no matter the alarm sounding in your brain at the idea of culture once again muddying the waters between good versus evil, here at Something Like Scales, we’re always looking for more ways to remove the scales and reveal more of God in our everyday lives, and in the lives of the littles (or teens!) that we lead. When we creatively look for him in the unexpected places, like movies, media, and culture, we find him. So, with that, here’s a recap of the gospel-centered benefits of the antihero trope:

We relate.
We are encouraged to empathize like Jesus did.
We are nurtured into looking past the status quo way of looking at things and instead look for the full truth.
We are compelled to act. *This part must be a work of the Spirit, but it starts with the awareness that hurt people often hurt people, and they are also often misunderstood. A little empathy and care can go a long way.

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Leave a quick comment: what do you think?

POSTED BY

Jenna

Jenna Kruse is a teacher but not in a classroom. She loves to think outside the box and inside the Word and is daily in need of an attitude adjustment. She is a wife to Justin, a mother to three children ages 10, 8 and 5 and a mentor to teenagers and young adults. You can learn more about the heart behind her blog HERE.

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