In "Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse," Gwen Stacy — What Kind of Female Character Do We Need?

Renowned Japanese manga artist Eiichiro Oda once advocated, "The most important in manga is character development. As long as you can create characters that the audience loves, then the manga is already half successful." He said it and did it. The character he created, Yujirou Hanma, became an unforgettable archetype for characters like "the strongest on Earth." Gwen's ballet-like entrance in the first film, "Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse," immediately caught my attention. Character development in animation is one of the aspects I am most satisfied with, besides Jinx and Vi from a few years ago in “Arcane Season 1.”

Female characters, whether it's Gwen or MJ, were originally conceived in an era where they often served as complements to male characters. They were often depicted as typical features such as screaming, causing trouble, being part of love triangles, getting kidnapped by villains, and awaiting rescue. It was almost a given that the male protagonist would have one or more fair-skinned, beautiful, and tall girlfriends. Even today, while there's an effort for political correctness, it's rare to see male characters given a fair-skinned, beautiful, and tall boyfriend in the same way. Even supporting male characters often lack depth in favor of being purely instrumental in the storyline.

When commercial success relies on positive reviews for main characters, often, the first choice for sacrifice in plot development tends to be the female character depicted as "not very smart," "making mistakes constantly," or "emotionally unstable." The stereotype of 'crazy women' persists. If that doesn't work, lesser-known female characters might be sidelined or subjected to tragic fates, sometimes with physical harm or even death, only to be replaced by a more conventionally beautiful face as the new female protagonist.

Young female characters often find themselves at the periphery of the storylines without independent arcs. In the superhero universe, their identities seem blurred and interchangeable, lacking distinctiveness and significance.

An illustrative instance is Ginny from Harry Potter, whose relationship with Harry remains puzzling to this day. When discussing female characters seen as tools, she often comes to mind. Her character's conclusion is largely perceived as Rowling prioritizing the male protagonist's need for a conventional and attractive wife, overshadowing Ginny's potential development. It appears that other narrative possibilities were sidelined to fulfill this expectation.

Cho Chang's character, on the other hand, lacks significant likability beyond her physical appearance. Though she possesses a rounded character, her qualities fail to make her particularly appealing beyond the surface level.

When authors approach characters as more than mere tools for plot advancement, their growth and relationship changes align with their inherent personalities. These characters continue to evolve and interact organically within the narrative. It's as if they exist beyond the pages, residing in a place that logically fits their identities and traits. When the author brings them into the story, they don't require any dramatic introduction; their mere presence maintains their original essence for the readers to witness and engage with.

Is it necessary for characters in artistic works to possess more intricate personalities or be more true to life? I don't believe so. Often, readers aren't inclined toward consuming extensive works akin to those authored by Dostoevsky. Such pieces tend to become increasingly burdensome and disillusioning regarding human nature and reality as one delves deeper. They usually cater to a specialized audience.

In commercial works, there exist predetermined molds dictating favored character types and plot patterns during particular periods. For instance, there's the classic setup of contrasting twin male protagonists—one smart but unhappy, the other naive; the suave silver-haired antagonist; the characters entangled in clandestine love, whether secretly admired by the main character or reciprocating it; the tsundere or moody younger sister; the athletic and well-defined neighbor girl; the brusque yet kind-hearted affluent young lady—the list continues. Consequently, beloved characters don't necessarily require heightened complexity or realism; rather, they succeed by amplifying their established traits to the extreme, fostering their unique fan communities that drive monetary investment in these characters.

In essence, the appeal of characters in commercial works doesn't solely hinge on their depth or realism, but on their ability to embody established tropes and cultivate dedicated fanbases willing to invest in them.

In reality, many lives are muddled, unremarkable, and at times, disheartening. However, this sense of despair doesn't quite resonate like the incessant complaining of a bland and irritating character. When aiming to depict the cruelty of real life through creation, it's essential to put in the effort to craft characters who are truly driven to madness. These individuals might go to extreme lengths, even resorting to violence, to either secure their own happiness or ensure the happiness of those around them. Surprisingly, such characters find wide acceptance. Therefore, when discussing animated characters, it's crucial not to rely solely on real-life standards because fictional characters are born from the realm of "unrealistic imagination."

Let's talk about the Gwen storyline in "Spider-Man: Across The Spider-Verse." In the film, we see Gwen growing up in a single-parent household, relying on her father, who is about to be promoted to senior police inspector. After a series of misunderstandings that could be clarified with just a few more sentences, the two meet in a tense situation, leading Gwen to escape to other universes—this is the beginning of the story. I agree with many viewers' opinions that telling the story of the Spider-Verse from Gwen's perspective is more suitable than Miles. Because of the father-daughter conflict—seeking solutions—joining the Spider Alliance—getting good friend Miles involved and concealing some things—reconciliation with her father—and gathering partners to save Miles, at least it can be considered a complete story. On the other hand, Miles's story is incomplete, lacking a clear beginning or end, and even the motives that drive the story forward are absent. Miles's parents play the stereotypical role of stumbling blocks for teenagers pursuing their dreams, especially Miles's mother. She perfectly fits the stereotypical image of an overprotective mother. The first time she meets Gwen, before Gwen even says anything, she rushes forward with the line, "Please don't hurt my son," making the atmosphere extremely awkward. Miles's father is the kind of father who loves his son deeply but has a hard time expressing it. No matter what he says or does, as long as he has a fatherly heart, he can always bring about a heartwarming ending of fatherly love and filial piety.

Some might wonder, how should the parents' roles be handled for the main characters. It's quite simple—Japanese anime solved this problem decades ago by minimizing the appearance of the main character's parents or not having them appear at all. If the parents are alive, that's okay too; Japanese animation is more tolerant when it comes to "patricide." If it serves the story, characters can kill their parents, and after some time, the character can be portrayed as a positive figure—gaining even higher popularity.

When discussing Gwen's character, the portrayal of female characters in relation to a patriarchal family dynamic isn't as straightforward as it often is with male characters in Japanese anime. This complexity arises from the issue of power attribution in the story's later stages. Traditionally, the one who eliminates the father figure is expected to inherit all their powers. Therefore, if Gwen, the character committing patricide, were to do so, it would logically lead her to become the primary protagonist of her own story.

In a pivotal moment where Gwen's father threatens her with a gun, her act of self-defense by taking his life would signify a complete departure from the patriarchal family structure. However, the subsequent plot where she willingly becomes subordinate to Miguel seems unreasonable. Instead, it would be more logical for her character to establish a new organization—a revolutionary group opposing tyranny—rather than engaging in a public display such as forming a band. Such a portrayal of a female character taking a leadership role against oppressive forces isn't commonly seen in either American or Japanese comics. Often, persecuted female characters in these stories tend to escape and seek refuge with another man, ultimately becoming a vehicle for that man to showcase his charisma. Despite claiming strength and independence, their actions often don't align with these assertions—a recurring pattern that seems to persist in the storytelling within The Spider-Verse by its writers.

Choosing a young and beautiful girl like Gwen as the main character brings inevitable challenges in depicting her relationships with a boyfriend or potential romantic interest. Gwen must either obey her father or not and if she obeys him, she's not a big female lead. If she disobeys him, it's hard to gain the love of mainstream audiences. If Gwen dares to refuse or oppose the opinions or views of her beloved boyfriend, it stirs up a hornet's nest, and both male and female audiences will swarm to criticize her. Looking at the discussions on the forums, even the sixteen-year-old Gwen, who has never confirmed a romantic relationship with Miles, receives backlash for getting slightly closer to Hobart 'Hobie' Brown / Spider-Punk, a punk Spider-Man who shares her passion for music.

If a true female lead story is to be produced, the initial setup of the female protagonist should be similar to the male protagonists in Japanese anime—having a car, a house, and parents who are either deceased or settled abroad. Then, she is surrounded by a large group of loyal female friends, and they all embark on adventures around the world. During their adventures, they experience various separations and reunions. The girl who bickers and fights with the female lead every day but never leaves her side must be a girl with extraordinary abilities and exceptional beauty. They shed tears for each other multiple times and save the world for each other, and the male lead, with fair skin, handsome looks, and long legs, appears every few days in the background to cheer them on. Such a story may be written without any problems, but it will not receive recognition and love from mainstream society.

Even for Gwen, an explosively popular female character, the production team still doesn't dare to create a story with her as the main protagonist. They prefer telling a boring and headless family comedy from Miles's perspective—boys as the main characters in adventure movies are always much safer. As for a girl's story, it doesn't make money, directors don't want to shoot it, and writers are not willing to write it. At the same time, most audiences indeed don't want to see an adventure story with a group of girls. This indirectly proves how groundbreaking "Arcane Season 1," with two girls as dual protagonists, was. Even though the mentors/guardians of the sisters are male characters, they die soon— one of them is even a standard villain—so "Arcane" still counts as a significant advancement in female character development.