Passing With Flying Colors: The Institution of Mandatory Feminist Tests for Superheroes

There have been decades of female superhero fans, all with the same desire: they want “messy women, strong women, women who are powerful and independent from the society of men. Women who deliver the last knockout punch” (Phillips). But this is not what fans are receiving from their favorite franchises. There are some female superheroes; DC Comics’ Wonder Woman saved the world too many times to be considered a token female character, but the sad reality is the common tropes within the action genre are misogynistic. Characters like Kitty Pryde, Black Widow, Leia Organa, wear scantily-clad outfits and are secondary to their male counterparts. In response, feminists use the “Bechdel Test'' to determine the amount of diversity in a piece of media. The test counts how many female characters there are, an attempt to avoid tokenism in art, and how many conversations those women have that do not mention men. However, many popular movies (Avengers and The Empire Strikes Back) do not pass the Bechdel Test, or any other test devised to create more diverse stories. This causes young women and men to grow up believing women are inferior, which can influence their self-esteem, as well as how they interact with other people in the real world. Comic books and movies need to have more diverse representation for female characters, not only through the desexualization and the creation of multifaceted characters, but in terms of race, age, ethnicity, and sexual orientation through mandated tests such as the Bechdel test. This is necessary not only because companies stand to make more profits from a wider market and fanbase, but also because of the impact stereotypical characters and narrow margins of diversity can have on young women’s self-esteem and mental health.

Since the beginning of comic companies in the early 1900s, women have had to fight for the spotlight, usually while half-naked. The biggest franchises, DC Comics and Marvel, each have a woman at their forefront: Wonder Woman and Captain Marvel. Wonder Woman was the first female superhero, and remains popular, but the creators intended for her empowerment to be stagnant. In a 1943 comic from H. G. Peters, Wonder Woman is on a stage in front of a cheering crowd. The comic reads “Wonder Woman for President”, with the clause “1000 years in the future”. The message is clear: the world is not, and will never be, ready for a female leader, superhero or not. Luckily, as the 20th century wore on, the message changed. In 2019 when “Captain Marvel” premiered, it was noted that “while other Marvel heroes are weak and lowly at the start of their origin stories, ‘[Carol] was a badass before she got her powers’” (Itzkoff). Captain America’s sickly origins come to mind, in comparison to Carol Danvers’s life as a fighter pilot pre-superpowers. But that is not enough to combat the typically domestic and less exciting storylines of female superheroes. Reviewers have heaped praise upon Marvel’s newest projects, “Wandavision” and the Black Widow solo movie, but neither is flawlessly feminist. Black Widow’s plotline features a “senseless romance and grossly offensive speech about her infertility”, neither of which is addressed again after the second Avengers movie. The writers were unable to find balance between her trauma and her strength. In her new film, she is again put “in a domestic space: She returns to her family”. Scarlet Witch is also put into a homely sphere where viewers find themselves asking “can Wanda do her job as a hero, or can she have a quiet life as a wife and mother?”, which she has to answer “through her emotional trauma, another gendered cliche”. This only reinforces the idea that women can either have a career or a family, and not both, as well as the idea “that too much female emotion- hysteria- is also a threat” (Erbland). While a huge step forward in female representation because its four female leads, one of them a woman of color, “WandaVision” is not the feminist triumph that fans wanted it to be. Through its homages to old sitcoms, ones built on traditional family values, it paints a world where family comes at the sacrifice of the woman and her own sanity. These are not isolated events, which leads to the conclusion that there is a lack of understanding of how to write women.

It is not always an active decision to exclude female diversity in the superhero genre; Marvel and DC executives are trying, but failing spectacularly. Most recently, the “Avengers: Endgame” directors, Anthony and Joe Russo, were criticized for pandering to feminists. The film featured a moment where every living female character (which is to say eight women) stood together to fight against Thanos during the final battle. The scene is only two minutes and thirteen seconds of a three-hour long movie. The complaints were that while “a good start (look at all these ladies!)”, it was shown “in a hammy way that ultimately reduces each character to a single trait: Powerful women”, and that the moment fell flat “because it seems so intent on selling ‘girl power’ as nothing more than an image” (Erbland). While this scene is technically progress for the feminist movement, the point about it being thrown in solely for the sake of appeasing female fans shows that executives do not actually care about diversity, but instead, keeping their stories profitable. Even leaders who do want to make social change seem at such a loss for what to do with women that they have turned to the younger members of their fan bases for help, in a desperate attempt to cash into the diversity that fans have asked for. With nowhere else to turn, movie executives and film critics want to know “Does Marvel Comics have a ‘woman problem’? How well do you think women and female superheroes have been depicted in Marvel films?” In a vain attempt to salvage their images, they have shown that they have no answers to their own questions. Marvel Comics does have a “women problem”, but the bigger issue is that they were not able to identify it themselves.

Traditional superhero franchises are not the only ones who have turned a blind eye to their own entrenched gender issues. The beloved Star Wars saga is ripe with sexist imagery and dialogue. The trio of women within George Lucas’s world is generational- Padme, Leia, and Jaina. Leia especially has become a symbol for female empowerment, with her fearlessness and intelligence that balance out Luke and Han’s impulsivity, but much of her screen time focuses on her relationships with the men, especially the romance between her and Han Solo. The issue with this is that “it is only the female characters who are discussed or fought over as if they are possessions or prizes” (Cocca 92). The three main women all become entangled in romantic drama, but none have a choice in who they end up with. Luke is Leia’s brother, and one of Jaina’s crushes falls for another woman. Star Wars fans have called out the franchise for its lack of female autonomy and failure to pass the Bechdel test. The patriarchal system in Star Wars has also received criticism, and while there are female leaders, “they rarely succeed in toppling the galaxy’s patriarchal customs and politics” (De Bruin-Mole 230). If women are not the decision maker, not the leader, not the hero, what are they?

The answer is props. From the first comic to the latest blockbuster film, the women in superhero pop culture advance the stories of men without existing on their own. The most obvious way this is seen is through the constant sexualization and coercion of women. Award winning actress Brie Larson portrayed the titular character in 2019’s “Captain Marvel” and one of the first reviews of the movie focused not on the plot, not on her portrayal of the character, but on her appearance. Failed director turned movie critic, John Nolte, assumed that Larson would be worried about being sexualized by Marvel fans, but he assured her that “she needn’t. Her eyes are too close together, she has the jawline of the Lone Ranger, no ass, and fat toes” (“Captain Marvel”). In what quickly shows itself to be a list of insults rather than a movie review, Nolte shows how closely women are scrutinized. The expectation here is that women need to look beautiful in order for a film to be good. At least Larson had a more appropriate costume for a superheroine. Her comic counterpart wears a particularly horrendous attire. Captain Marvel has “gone from wearing a gymnast’s leotard with thigh boots to a thong. It was the most disingenuous thing in the world” (Deconnick as qtd. by Itzkoff). Firstly, a leotard is hardly an effective crime fighting outfit. Iron Man wears a full suit of armor, as do Captain America and Batman. Even Superman’s spandex getup covers his whole body. Women’s costumes do not further the story or make sense with the characters; they are just meant to show off the female figure. Likewise, the costume became worse overtime, which only proves that there has not been changes in the representation of women, and certainly not changes that reflect the growing feminist movements across the past century. The depictions of women are so graphically sexual that “Comics writer Christy Marx explains ‘If an artist were to draw male characters with the same level of sexual receptivity, those characters would be walking around with permanent erections’” (Cocca 124). An aroused Iron Man would hardly make for a family friendly movie, nor would it make sense during bloody battles against robots or aliens. But the dialogue and storylines in comic books are even worse than the sexist imagery. In a comic from the 1980s, Carol gave birth to a child without memory of becoming pregnant. She was at first angry and upset, despite the insistence by her friends that she was “so lucky”. She later apologizes and meets her child, who turns out to be a clone of the man who “kidnapped her to Limbo, wooed her… and then ‘after relative weeks of such efforts- and admittedly with a boost from Immortus’ machines,’..., he had sex with her” (Cocca 170). It is also mentioned that she experienced “undeniable attraction” to him. She is written out of the Avengers comics for a short while to pursue a relationship with her rapist. This teaches young men that women are easily manipulated and that it is okay to force them into performing sexual activities. This story decriminalizes kidnapping and rape, and it also makes the assumption that all women will eventually want to become mothers. Everything about this comic is built on stereotypes, fetishization, and traditionalism. But Marvel is not the only franchise to have women inevitably give in to romantic propositions. Fans were quick to protest how the “Courtship valorizes Han’s abduction and subsequent seduction of Leia, which results in the movie “[caricaturing] the feminism it claims to support” (De Bruin-Mole 233). Leia, Captain Marvel, and other superheroines are supposed to be role models for young girls, but they only end up modeling sexual coercion and the predatory male gaze. This also brings back the siutuation with “Endgame” where franchises claim to be feminist by creating female characters, yet they do nothing to actually make them developed people with feminist stories.

Instead of making these characters be able to stand alone as mighty heroes, women in comic books and action movies often lose their powers, get injured, or get killed to further the growth of their male counterparts. This is seen with the main three humans in Star Wars, Luke, Han Solo, and Princess Leia. While all are fighting against Darth Vadar’s empire, “Leia exists mainly to ‘invest’ actions with ultimate approval and to mark them as true heroes'' (De Bruin-Mole 227). Leia is a validating force, rather than a presence of her own. As previously mentioned, much of her screentime is tied to her relationship with Luke, until they found out that they were siblings, or with Han, who repeatedly flirts with Leia despite her disinterest in him. The story would not be impacted by the erasure of Leia, sans a claim to female empowerment, but Leia cannot exist without the storylines of Luke and Leia. She is a secondary character even in her own scenes. Leia at least stays alive during the films. Many female characters are “killed, maimed, or depowered at much higher rates than their numerous male counterparts, generally as a plot point to further a male character’s development”. This is what comics writer Gail Simone likes to call “Women in Refrigerators” after a comic where Green Lantern’s girlfriend was “killed and stuffed into a refrigerator for him to find, get upset about, and avenge” (Cocca 15). This idea would become a popular blog that tracks every time that a female character was killed or injured in order for a male character to develop. Even the fact that Cocca uses Green Lantern’s name, but not his girlfriend’s shows how these characters are dehumanized and barely given identities beyond their romantic entanglements with men. Women in the real world exist for themselves and by themselves, but popular art does not reflect that. Modern shows like “Wandavision” have not gone as far as to kill off any of their four female leads, but Wanda’s powers have not been explored to the fullest of their potential. The two female avengers to have their own properties (Wanda and Carol) are also the ones “who could have defeated the big bad of the last two Avengers films, Thanos. Because of that, the films clumsily maneuvered around these heroes, downplaying their powers or making them unavailable so that the story could continue” (Phillips). The filmmakers specifically chose for a male character to defeat Thanos, even when both women were more than capable. The real ending was meant to give Tony Stark a hero’s death, as well as closure for his character, but for many fans, it seemed unnecessary and illogical. Because of this, it is evident that depowering female characters is counterproductive, even though franchises continue to do it.

Executives at Marvel and DC believe that female characters do not sell, despite Wonder Woman and Black Widow having some of the highest comic sales and largest fan bases within the superhero fandom. The reason for this is a “Hollywood fallacy that while women will watch movies about men, men will not watch movies about men”. Women are considered inferior in today’s society, so women look up to male characters, but women are not supposed to be aspirational figures for men. This leads to a bigger issue of gender equality within the real world. In a utopian society, “a female superhero wouldn’t be tricky, because she wouldn’t be threatening or challenging to the order through her very existence” (Cocca 50). It is a cyclical issue, where life and art imitate each other. In order for this cycle to be broken, female led entertainment needs to be given the same chance for success. For example, in 2014, the chairman of Marvel “disparaged female superhero films” such as “Catwoman” (2004) for doing poorly at the box office (Itzkoff). However, “Catwoman” had half the budget of Tobey Maguire’s “Spider-Man 2”, which came out the same year. It was set up for failure but not being given the same priority as a male character. Additionally, companies fear losing male or conservative fans who may “[feel] as if their tastes were being put down...and threatened that what they liked would be taken away by ‘social justice warriors’ who didn’t belong in their comics world” (Cocca 17). Firstly, superheroes are inherently entrenched with social justice themes. Their purpose is to fight evil within society. Captain America is revered by these fans, but he frequently went against governmental authority to do what he thought was right and fought against fascism. Those that worry about having their tastes taken away just hate women, not social rhetoric as a whole.

However, companies should not fear losing these fans; they are the minority. Most people think that there are enough male heroes, and that it is time for women to shine. For years, fans have expressed outrage over common tropes like “Women in Frigerators” and the sexualizaion of superheroines. Many comic books include letters to the editor, and in one edition of X-Men (#117), “Fan Brenda Robnett had written, ‘I was SO EXCITED by the creation of Phoenix. At long last a POWERFUL superhero and a woman at that!... And then it started. The gradual deterioration of Phoenix’s power. What can’t Marvel have at least one superheroine worthy of the name??? They are what you make them’” (Cocca 115). The capital letters and extra punctuation emphasize Robnett’s frustration at the development of Phoenix. The most interesting thing to note however, is that she proclaimed Phoenix a powerful superhero, followed by being a woman. This deals with the idea of tokenism, where there are strong superheroes who happen to be women, rather than superheroes being created simply to have strong women. The lack of authentic representation goes beyond common female weakness; Hasbro took it one step further when they omitted Rey from their new line of Star Wars toys following the premiere of “Star Wars: The Last Jedi”. Eight year old Annie Rose was so upset by this that she wrote to the company to complain. She argues that “boys and girls need to see that women can be as strong as men!...We are equal, all of us!” (as qtd. by De Bruin-Mole 234). Rose’s letter proves that companies are actively choosing sexism. If an eight year old can understand the importance of representation, billion dollar companies with thousands of employees certainly can. This gross deliberate misrepresentation has to change.

It is not impossible for this change to happen. Already, progress has been made. After her debut in the mid-1900s, one of Wonder Woman’s creator would change her slogan to represent “female love power”, reading that she is “‘beautiful as Aphrodite, wise as Athena, stronger than Hercules, and swifter than Mercury’ (italics mine)” (Cocca 27). This is an incredibly powerful slogan; it places Wonder Woman at a higher status than male gods and Greek heroes, while not pitting her against other women. It also associates her with deities, evidence of the extent of her power. Later in the 20th century, Carrie Fisher sung the praises of her character Leia Organa, calling her “capable, independent, sensible, a soldier, a fighter, a woman in control”, as well as stressing the importance for “these bigger than life projections”. The support from celebrities for increased positive female rhetoric only adds weight to the outcries from fans. But while some superheroines do get recognized for the incredible women that they are, many fall into similar archetypes that get picked apart by the media. It all centers around the idea that people do not know how to write women, often ending up with the women warrior archetype: the “‘badass’ and ‘super strong’ and ‘sexy’” (Erbland). This perpetuates stereotypes and reduces femininity to a single ideal. There is no one way to be strong, but the “strong female hero” would have young women believing that there is. It is also important to recognize the way that art is created. Feminism in movies can be seen through three lenses: “The first is indeed representational...The second is paratextual...Finally, we must also acknowledge industrial and political factors of who is allowed to add to the story” (De Bruin-Mole 229). While eight year old Annie and other fans may be able to contribute to the consumer climate of these franchises, they cannot change the storylines that are produced, not without serious improvements within the third factor because the vast majority of Marvel, DC, and Star Wars board members and creators are men. In an effort to combat the consistent male gaze in pop culture, comics writer Kelly Sue DeConnick suggests “a ‘sexy lamp test’ for comics: ‘if you can replace your female character with a sexy lamp and the story still basically works, maybe you need another draft’” (as qtd. by Cocca 14). This is a great way to ensure, at the bare minimum, that women do not exist to fill a token role and that they contribute to stories as much as women do to the world in real life. Like the Bechdel test, employing the “Sexy Lamp Test” ensures at least some progress in terms of female representation.

Admittedly, there is an argument for why mandatory representation requirements are a poor idea. Similar to fans that are worried about superhero films becoming liberal propaganda, there is a worry that focusing too much energy on female empowerment will take away from the story as a whole, and even the women in those stories. Nolte believes this, writing that “Marvel [is] so afraid of the Woke Fascists, we’re forced to spend two hours with a lead protagonist without vulnerabilities, zero sex appeal, and no character arc” (“Captain Marvel”). Nolte’s argument is flawed for several reasons. First, he equates liberalism with fascism; fascism is a movement built upon social conservatism. Secondly, he believes that Danvers has “no character arc” when the entirety of the movie is focused upon her remembering her past and breaking free from a cruel ideology taught to her. In a less extreme counterargument, some think women are represented enough. Because of films like Wonder Woman and Captain Marvel, there is a belief that “audiences have grown accustomed to superhero movies that put women in the spotlight” (Itzkoff). While Itzkoff could be saying that there is less opposition to female-led movies, it comes across as him saying that there are enough female-led movies. Out of over twenty films, only one movie from the MCU has a female titular character, so audiences have not actually had a chance to grow accustomed to these kinds of movies, because they do not exist.

However, there is no disadvantage to increasing the quantity diversity of women in superhero comics and movies. It is clear there is a want for better written women because of market trends. When “female readers were alienated by sexist story lines that reduced women to sidekicks and stereotypes”, companies publishing that content lost money (Itzkoff). There is a direct line between what fans want and the sales of comic books. It is especially influenced by white men, who have started advocating for better female characters (Cocca 191). This disproves the idea that men will not read about women. If their goal is to make money and grow their fanbase, companies need to start reflecting the desires of said people. But going beyond profits, more representation can have positive effects on self-esteem. For example, DC’s Batgirl is injured and becomes Oracle, who needs a wheelchair. For many people in similar situations, “‘Oracle eased the stigma and gave people like my dad and I representation. She made me hope for a day when...disabled people could be seen as individuals, not monsters’ (MJ on her blog)” (Cocca 72). Pulitzer Prize-winning author, Junot Diaz, wrote a similar analogy: “You know, vampires have no reflections in a mirror?... If you want to make a human being into a monster, deny them, at the cultural level, any reflection of themselves” (as qtd. by Cocca 196). Humans are, simply put, not monsters, and they do not deserve to feel like they are. The lack of representation among superheroes is what causes self hatred and alienation among fans.

For both profitability for companies and mental health for fans, it is imperative that comic books and action films pass mandated tests to determine how feminist they are. Fans are tired of sexism in their entertainment. While there are still people who shame women’s appearances or feel that women cannot be strong and feminine at once, the majority of superhero fans are ready for change. This can come in the form of laws being created that do not allow any book or film to be published without first passing the Bechdel test. While this test will not combat issues with representation of people of color and LGBTQ+ community members, it is a sign of commitment to increased diversity. Instituting the Bechdel test as a mandatory art clause will push the world towards a place where they are actually accustomed to seeing women in the spotlight, and where they will be more receptive to further social change for all marginalized groups, both on and off screen. What children grow up seeing in shows and reading in books is what stays with them. The world has to decide if that imagery is going to be positive and lift women up, or tear them down.

Works Cited

Cocca, Carolyn. Superwomen: Gender, Power, and Representation. Bloomsbury Publishing USA, 2016.

De Bruin-Mole, Megen. "Space Bitches, Witches, and Kick-Ass Princesses: Star Wars and Popular Feminism." Star Wars and the History of Transmedia Storytelling, edited by Sean Guynes and Dan Hassler-Forest, Amsterdam UP, 2018, pp. 225-40.

Engle, Jeremy. "Do We Need More Female Superheroes?" The New York Times, 6 Mar. 2019, www.nytimes.com/2019/03/06/learning/do-we-need-more-female-superheroes.html. Accessed 15 Apr. 2021.

Erbland, Kate. "'Avengers: Endgame' Needed More than One Pandering 'Girl Power' Moment to Make Its Female Superheroes Soar." Indie Wire, 29 Apr. 2019, www.indiewire.com/2019/04/avengers-endgame-girl-power-scarlet-witch-1202129153/. Accessed 15 Apr. 2021.

Itzkoff, Dave. "Can 'Captain Marvel' Fix Marvel's Woman Problem?" The New York Times, www.nytimes.com/2019/02/28/movies/captain-marvel.html. Accessed 28 Apr. 2021.

Nolte, John. "'Captain Marvel' Review: Brie Larson Is the Beckiest Becky in Movie History." Breitbart, 16 Mar. 2019, www.breitbart.com/entertainment/2019/03/16/captain-marvel-review-brie-larson-is-the-beckiest-becky-in-movie-history/. Accessed 28 Apr. 2021.

---. "Movies Are about to Suck like 'Captain Marvel' for a Very Long Time." Breitbart, 2 July 2020, www.breitbart.com/entertainment/2020/07/02/nolte-movies-are-about-to-suck-like-captain-marvel-for-a-very-long-time/. Accessed 15 Apr. 2021.

Phillips, Maya. "What 'WandaVision' Gets Right (and Wrong) about Female Superheroes." The New York Times, 11 Mar. 2021, www.nytimes.com/2021/03/11/arts/television/wandavision-disney-plus-gender.html?searchResultPosition=4. Accessed 15 Apr. 2021.

Wonder Woman for President--Wonder Womanyears in the future! / H.G. Peters. Photograph. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, <www.loc.gov/item/2002719307/>.