It always makes me a little sad to remember that Elektra (2005) was not well received by viewers or critics and that, in some critical comments, it’s described as one of the worst or most unpopular superhero films ever made. Jennifer Stuller refers to the film as a good example of the female superhero film but one that was “poorly, shamefully, and embarrassingly produced” (Stuller 2). (As big a fan as I am of Stuller’s scholarly work on female superheroes, after conducting my thesis I can’t quite agree with her analysis of Elektra.)
Elektra was one of my three senior English thesis films, along with Dredd (2012) and The Avengers (2012). Elektra, in fact, was the film that inspired my initial thesis proposal, which Dredd then followed/expanded, and Black Widow/Avengers fell into place later on. Elektra holds a special place in my experience with 21st-century superhero films not only because I spent so much time working with it but also – primarily – because I consider it to currently be the best and most unconventional female superhero film, alongside the more recent Maleficent (2014). (Those two qualities, “female” and “unconventional,” likely being the very things that led to the film’s lack of success. Also, Elektra appeared before Marvel Studios and the Dark Knight trilogy moved the superhero film from a cult genre and cult audience base to a dominant, mainstream position in Hollywood. But I digress.)
Watch the trailer for Elektra here.
And here’s a fascinating (I say that partly in irony) video by FanboyFlicks that ranks Elektra as #4 on “Worst Superhero Movies Ever!”. Sorry to pull out the stereotypical feminist argument, but note how the videomakers are two young white men? Note that they refer to Elektra as a “bitch” and don’t actually give you Abby’s name. (She’s the “thirteen-year-old girl.”) If you’ve seen Elektra, note that their attempts at “humor” cause them to misrepresent several facts about the film’s storyline and progression. Also note that the “hours-long” sequences they’re complaining about, like Elektra’s first encounter with Abby, are actually some of the shortest in the film.
My advice? Don’t believe these reviewers. They might think they’re saving you from “suffering” through Elektra, but what they’re really doing is sounding idiotic (not funny), expressing sexist stereotypes and attitudes about female characters and heroes (they say at the end of the video that Jennifer Garner was “totally mannish” in this film-WHAT?? Did you really?), and proving that they don’t understand the magical and mythical roots of ALL superhero characters. This film is not a “jumbled mess of magic and ninjas.” It’s one of only two 21st-century superhero films to successfully, centrally feature the mystical roots shared by superheroes around the world. Go read The Hero with a Thousand Faces, guys…
And now, on to the real reason why you visited TLSHBNW today.
Tying in to Monday’s post on Dr. Horrible’s Sing-a-Long Blog and Dr. Horrible’s conflicted morality, which fails to bring about the journey of redemption conventionally associated with heroes/protagonists in superhero stories (just a reminder: this failure is the point of DHSAB, not a fault), Elektra is just such a story of redemption.
Following her flight from New York City at the end of Daredevil (2003), Elektra Natchios (Jennifer Garner) becomes an elite assassin-for-hire; her film opens with her latest mission, a dark and stormy sequence that is one of the most stunningly crafted opening sequences among 21st-century superhero films. Following this mission, however, Elektra is hired to carry out a double assassination on a sleepy island, where she befriends her new neighbors Abby (Kirsten Prout) and her father Mark Miller (Goran Visnjic). When Elektra finds out that Abby and Mark are her targets, she refuses to complete the mission and instead becomes Abby and Mark’s protector as they flee from the mysterious, dangerous organization known as The Hand.
The background for this plot is the ancient war between Good and Evil, with the attendant prophecy that a legendary hero, a “motherless daughter” identified as “The Treasure,” will one day appear to tip the balance between Good and Evil and start the process of ending the timeless war. Elektra and Abby both fit the description of the Treasure, and the film is ultimately ambiguous about the real identity of the Treasure: Abby is explicitly named as this prophesied hero, but the images of the woman warrior in the prologue sequence can only be of Elektra. My personal conclusion has always been that the prophecy actually refers to Elektra and Abby as a unit; together they are the Treasure that initiates the process of Good finally defeating Evil.
Elektra’s journey of redemption occurs in two parts: an internal process of reflection triggered by her external encounter with Abby. Echoing Elektra’s own past, Abby’s mother was assassinated by The Hand, and the strong-willed and rebellious Abby is left in her father’s care with unresolved feelings and questions about her mother, and a gap where a female mentor should be. Elektra sees herself in Abby – in one scene, Elektra actually sees Abby as her own younger self – and becomes determined to save Abby from the dark and dangerous life Elektra herself fell into. It is through reflecting on the similarities between herself and Abby that Elektra stops herself from carrying out the assassination. She can’t bring herself to do to Abby what The Hand did to her in the past.
The most beautiful and most interesting part of the film is Elektra and Abby’s growing relationship, which type-wise is somewhere between that of sisters and mother/daughter. Again, this is probably one of the major things that turned critics and viewers away from Elektra in 2005 – for many years, no other 21st-century superhero film produced in Hollywood would devote its major characters and plot line to telling the story of a deep emotional bond between two women. Elektra’s semi-romance with Mark (Abby’s father, in case you’d forgotten him…I sometimes do) is a marginal storyline, occurring as a scattered series of flirtatious moments. And, importantly, Elektra walks away from Mark and the life he offers at the end of the film, choosing to maintain her independent, superheroic existence. Elektra is satisfied knowing that Abby is safe and free, that she has given Abby the second chance at life that she herself never found.
Thus, Elektra’s journey of redemption is created through and produces that nearly non-existent thing in mainstream Hollywood: a story of deep emotional connection and mutual care between two women, two women who are not even genetically related but simply understand one another and care about the other’s fate in life. Only with this year’s Maleficent would another mainstream film in the superhero category devote a significant portion of its major storyline to the bond between non-related female characters.
One could argue that Aeon Flux (2005-same year as Elektra) includes Aeon’s (Charlize Theron) search for her missing sister, Una…but if you watch Aeon Flux, you’ll see that the story is quickly and permanently diverted to the relationship between Aeon and Trevor Goodchild (Martin Csokas). The search for Una is just a filmic tool to get Aeon to the place where she encounters Trevor. Aeon’s friendship with the female character Sithandra (Sophie Okonedo) dies out of the plot, too (literally, as Sithandra is killed before the film’s end). Aeon Flux is ultimately about Aeon and Trevor; Una does not reappear in a significant manner, leaving the sister relationship behind in favor of the romantic relationship with Trevor.
Even the girl-powered Red Riding Hood (2011) and Snow White & the Huntsman (2012) focus more on their female protagonists’ relationships with various male characters rather than those with other women in the stories. Zack Snyder’s Sucker Punch (2011) is a fair contender, but its female protagonists are plagued by the dark, sadistic, and misogynistic premise of the film. (More on Sucker Punch in a few weeks…)
I often find myself thinking that Hollywood films about truly strong women and relationships between women – especially when these appear in conventionally “male” genres like action and superhero stories – face a double bind not dissimilar from the infamous double standard women face in real life. Generally, critics in favor of gender equality in film will lament the lack of Hollywood films featuring unconventional, strong female characters. Yet, when the rare film that fits this description finally does turn up, in the past it seemed as though the film was always somehow sub-par or “not enough.” I therefore propose the double standard of female superhero characters in Hollywood: You’re either absent or, when you do appear, useless. (Just kidding! What would we do without you few but awesome women to give us hope? Oh, and I DARE you to tell Lady Sif that she’s useless! If you do, it’s been nice knowing you…)
Maleficent‘s strong reception among both viewers and critics was surprising to some – precisely because, perhaps, of the history of poor reactions to such films as Elektra. Maleficent may benefit from some advances in digital technology and the foundation of a more widely known base story, but to me there’s no difference in terms of overall “quality” – that elusive and troublesome term I loathe with a passion (more on that in a few weeks, too) – between Elektra and her new film buddy Maleficent.
Granted, criticism as a practice is meant to challenge and investigate cultural products and systems, which tends to focus critical discussion on what a work doesn’t do in relation to whatever standard or cultural agenda the critic holds. Often, when I come across a critical/scholarly piece that takes an overwhelmingly positive approach to the work it analyzes, the criticism itself is labeled as an “apology” for the original work – as if the writer or other critics feel a need to apologize for not focusing on the “flaws” of the work in question.
That was something heavily on my mind when Jennie, Courtney, and I discussed making this blog. I don’t do “pessimistic criticism,” as I call it (in private and never in class! Well, maybe I called it that in senior thesis, among friends). I believe firmly that positive criticism – pointing out what cultural products do well in at least equal (hopefully slightly greater) proportion to what they do poorly – is crucial to making progress toward a more enlightened and equally representative popular culture. I might say something like, “Praise the good, discard the bad.” (Ever the optimist, me.) Especially when you consider that the Hollywood system functions in positive audience (i.e. box office) response to plan its future output, doesn’t it make sense to tell Hollywood what we want rather than what we don’t? Doesn’t that offer those who make the decisions a better guide?
Case in point: Marvel Studios. (Darth Vader theme music plays…DC cringes.) We as the viewing public have effectively given Marvel free rein to make more superhero films, as many as they want and as fast as they can make them. Why? Well, check out these numbers from Box Office Mojo: the highest-grossing films in terms of U.S. opening weekends and the highest-grossing films of
2014. Who’s at the top? Marvel. (Note that Maleficent is at the astonishing position of #5 on highest-grossing films of 2014. No one saw that coming…)
Maybe we female viewers just got lucky that Marvel seems motivated and willing to increase the role of female characters in their films. But, that’s actually not so surprising, since huge numbers of Marvel fans are women, a demographic that is becoming increasingly important at the box office, as online discussion and box office results this summer demonstrated.
So, Hollywood, please do give us more Elektras, more Maleficents, more female Thors, more Peggy Carters. Give us more relationships like Elektra and Abby, Jane and Darcy, Patience Phillips and Ophelia Powers (that would be from 2004’s Catwoman, another great female superhero film with a bad rep). Elektra may remain in the shadows at present, but who knows? Her personal journey of redemption is complete, but another awaits the film, when it will hopefully be rediscovered and recognized as the brave film that appeared alone back when Hollywood was unwilling to believe in the power of stories about strong female characters.
On Monday: “From Crab Key to Skyfall: Technology & Action in James Bond from 1962-2012.” Everyone’s favorite British superhero-spy has gone through a lot of changes since the first Bond film, Dr. No, was released in 1962. Six actors, fifty years, and countless gadgets and action sequences later, Bond is still going strong as an international hero and icon. I’m particularly interested in how the sci-fi elements of gadgets and gizmos have changed over the years, specifically in the new Bond films that are significantly less tech-heavy than those made through 2002’s Die Another Day (which was itself gizmo-heaven). I’ll look at all three of the Daniel Craig films: Casino Royale (2006), Quantum of Solace (2008), and Skyfall (2012). Bond marathon at Natalie’s house this weekend!
I just realized: Do you see the irony here? I just spent a few hours writing about awesome female characters, and then here I go planning to discuss James Bond, of all characters. When do we get a female Bond?
Time Lords, Superheroes, and Brave New Worlds 