Waver From The Line

When you think of thrillers, you think of a secretly not-so-average guy; a man leading the soccer dad, carpool-driving life, with a hidden past. Someone, dare I say it, with-a-certain-set-of-skills. The hero will surprise you with his covert talent, his vast knowledge and inhuman skill, while the somewhat obvious plot goes by at rapid speed, punctuated with death-defying stunts.

 

But there’s another kind of thriller out there on television, one with a slow burn plot that threatens to explode every week, void of impossible stunts but full of life or death tension.  And best of all, the hero isn’t a man with a secret but a woman who uncovers the truth.  

 

Homeland is one of the most critically acclaimed television shows on air and there is a reason. The writing is superb, the acting is even better. At any given moment during the hourlong program the writers and actors are toying with the viewers. We don’t know who to cheer for, who or what to believe and most importantly, there’s no way to know how it will all turn out. And these twists and turns are curving around our central characters, Carrie Mathison and Nicholas Brody. But (spoiler alert) there is no doubt that of the two, Carrie is our hero.

 

Played to Emmy-winning perfection by Claire Danes, Carrie isn’t your stereotypical protagonist. Talented, knowledgeable with impeccable skill, Carrie isn’t just fighting the bad guy, she’s also fighting herself. Much like the antihero, Brody, isn’t all bad, Carrie isn’t all good. In fact, in many ways they are one another’s reflection; fighting with different sides of themselves. Brody’s fight comes from his soul’s struggle to do what he sees is just, while Carrie’s struggle comes from trusting what her mind is telling her is the truth. But just as Brody’s soul has been broken by his time as a prisoner, Carrie’s mind has been compromised by her disease.

 

Both Homeland’s hero and antihero are damaged; both waver from the line they have set themselves to walk upon. And while Brody’s wavering gives us a chance to like him, Carrie’s wavering does not make her any less likeable. She is not any less of a hero, and in many ways it makes her a much stronger character to watch. After all, what more dangerous opponent could there be than yourself?  

 

Homeland makes no apologies in giving you characters that are not clearly fit for their roles. Were they not in the middle of a terrorist-themed thriller, they would still be intriguing to watch navigate through life’s everyday situations. But unfortunately for them, and fortunately for the viewer, they have to navigate every day through life and death situations.

Sword-Carrying Beauty In A Debutante Dress

I think that there is a reason why young girls are drawn toward fairy tales. It’s not the castles, the magical creatures, or the overabundance of pink. It’s that women are almost always the main characters: Cinderella, Snow White, The Little Mermaid, Sleeping Beauty. These characters are so pivotal to the plot that the story itself is named after them.

The problem though, is that while the protagonist may be strong of heart, she’s weak of body. Constantly needing rescuing from  evil, never able to free herself from the tower. (I mean, why didn’t Rapunzel just cut off her hair and use it as a rope?) While she may be the star of the show, she’s certainly not the hero. In the stories we were brought up with as children, heroism is reserved for the dashing young man with the sword. His strength and courage win the fight, save the girl and bring on the happily ever after.  In fact, the only women with any kind of power are the apple-carrying old crones whose vendetta is provoked by a mirror telling them they aren’t the hottest one around or, in the when-you-think-about-it-it’s-kind-of-weird case of Sleeping Beauty’s Maleficent, weren’t invited to the party.

But fairy tales are getting a much-needed re-write on ABC’s Once Upon A Time.

I will confess, I had my doubts about the show to start with. But then we saw how Snow White met her Prince, and instead of singing in a forest surrounded by woodland creatures she was brandishing a sword and robbing her future (so rich he won’t miss it) love. In simple terms, the delicate flower that has always been the picture of Snow White got some thorns. And she’s not the only one. Episode after episode, the ladies of make-believe get to choose their own path, save themselves and the ones they love, and (we hope) get the guy.

This isn’t to say that the men on the show don’t play a pivotal and often heartbreaking role. They do. Every Rumpelstiltskin storyline is a work of genius, and Jiminy Cricket’s back story was quietly profound, kind of like the character himself. But at the heart of every episode is a princess that kicks butt, an evil queen whose greed is so deep she could never be provoked by anything so shallow as her predecessors, and… a sheriff, who, as the storybook in the show promises us, is the hero of this story.

Perhaps even better than the concept of a sword-carrying beauty in a debutante dress is the idea that these women are not as perfect as they were once portrayed to be. They steal, they lie, they have unplanned babies and unplanned affairs. But that doesn’t make them any less heroic, it just makes them a little less make-believe and a lot more real.