Tag: Monomyth

Let’s Hear It for the Boy! Masculinity and the Monomyth

As the monomyth evolves, the question is: will it evolve to include the “everywoman” hero archetype, or will the nature of myth itself change to embrace not just the messaging of individualization, but the representation of unique stories for unique people?

This guest post by Morgan Faust appears as part of our theme week on Masculinity.

I had a professor who began our first writing class with a wonderful speech about how as writers we have the most important job in the world since we create the myths that inform and mold society and its expectations of itself. Granted, his job was to convince us grad school was worth $40,000 a year….but the idea that narratives have real power did stay with me (so I guess he proved his point). Our national cinema (by which I mean the big stuff that shows up in theaters and is sent out around the world) says a lot about who we, as a country, think we are.

To judge by last year’s overseas box office numbers, we are a nation of white boys and men who fight imaginary baddies…oh and Angelina Jolie. There are many things we could tease out about America’s self-assumed national identity from our cinematic persona with regard to race, heteronormativity, military prowess, but this is Bitch Flicks and the topic is masculinity, so for today, let’s stick to that. Notably, in those top ten movies we have (often in the form of a sequel, triquel, and I don’t even know where to begin counting the X-Men movies) the story of a scrawny, nerdy, outcast boy who goes on a journey and becomes the hero he was meant to be. This story is known to its friends as the monomyth. So what does this myth say about us? A whole heck of a lot! So come with me, oh humble reader, and you will be transformed!

They’re softly lit, and ready for action.
They’re softly lit, and ready for action.

 

A fantastic, recent example of our everyman hero, monomyth affinity is The Lego Movie. This story has all the notes of the humble hero myth: the hero Emmet, a good-hearted nobody who is chosen by a higher power, Vitruvius, to be the “special,” is then supported by a team of talented people–Wild Style, Batman, and Unikitty–to try and conquer evil Mr. Business. He eventually discovers he had the power to defeat the big bad in him all along! (Sound familiar, Bilbo? Mr. Potter?) Lord and Miller know their stuff. They play craftily with the myth; it’s story structure (ultimately our characters are actually Legos, not people, and they represent the feelings of the boy that is playing with them. Therapists would have loved working with this kid). It has a great message about play and finding your own voice, and says we can all be heroes! Especially boys! Oh, right. While the message of the movie might be about everyone, the story is about an everyman. I am reminded of the Declaration of Independence: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.” It represents all people, but it definitely says men.

You could be me! Unless you’re, you know, not a straight, white, um, yellow dude!
You could be me! Unless you’re, you know, not a straight, white, um, yellow dude!

 

So let’s dig into the component parts here. We have Emmet who is a good guy, friendly, upbeat, hardworking but unappreciated by his peers (calling Steve Rogers). All of these are traits you choose to have, rather than are born with, which fits in perfectly with the Alger Hiss American Dream we hold so dear: we are not a nation of fated success stories,  we are individuals formed by our choices. Monomyth heroes are often orphans, or at the very least unloved by their parents, so they are truly, self-made men. How to Train Your Dragon’s Hiccup is small, hardworking and big-hearted. Harry Potter, even though put upon by awful relatives, was still generally a good kid who tried his best. And Luke was, well let’s be honest, he was a brat, but he was supposed to be a good-hearted, ambitious kid, who wanted to get out and see the world. This is a particular vision of masculinity; it’s not the “right man for the job” skill set of Indiana Jones, Hercules, or James Bond, instead, these are highly attainable character traits.

For all these boys/men, at some point early in the story, someone or thing plucks them from their mundane existence to send them on their path to greatness. The Lego Movie has fun with this conceit by getting a bit meta and literally calling him “the special,” but it is still the familiar notion that through no action of his own, Emmet is lifted up and named the one person who can save the world; and while he doesn’t see it about himself yet, the powers that be have faith in him that he will one day be the hero they know he can be. Which leads us nicely to the next thing a humble hero needs: his team.

In The Lego Movie this is made up a of team of Master Builders, a group of elite builders with the ability to create anything from legos, a skill that Emmet notably lacks. And while this group has their doubts about him, they never abandon him, they listen, and they follow his leadership. Each is a different variation on Emmet, and a manifestation of a skill set he doesn’t have, which in this case, as in many movies, includes a token woman (in Lego there is a token woman, and a token female crazy pony). Despite their abilities, each of these characters are included in the story only so they can help the hero find his inner strength and attain the goal of defeating evil.

We’re here for you! Here and slightly behind you!
We’re here for you! Here and slightly behind you!

 

Which brings us to the final piece of the monomyth: the hero had the answer inside of him all along. Whether it be the hero’s discovery that in fact he is special, like with Harry Potter (not only am I a wizard, I’m a Horcrux!), or simply that some character trait that had been deemed worthless proves vital, like with Kung Fu Panda’s Po, his love and belief in his heroes proves to be the thing all heroes need to succeed. The journey has brought the hero to a crucial juncture, and in order to defeat the big bad, our man has to come to face-to-face with his true self and embrace his identity.

What a perfect ending to an American myth: we each have greatness inside of us, no matter who we are!

Those aren’t noodles in there, I’m full of greatness!
Those aren’t noodles in there, I’m full of greatness!

 

And it is, it’s a great story, maybe the greatest. In fact, most religions have some version of this very idea at the core of  their system (think how at the end of every yoga class the teacher ends saying Namaste or “the God within me greets the God within you”). So if this self-empowerment myth is limited only to men, what does that say about our culture? Well, we see its reflection in the XY domination of the White House. We see it again in Lily Ledbetter’s fight for equal pay. And we see it in the hiring practices of Hollywood (hey there Colin Treverrow!). We have a national love affair with underdog male success stories, a love affair that has not yet extended to women. And that is a damn shame.

But there is hope, a whole lot of it. Things are changing (Hillary!), and that myth is becoming more inclusive. On the one hand, we see that the traits our male heroes often embrace in order to defeat the big bad are becoming more traditionally feminine characteristics: kindness, generosity, self-sacrifice and teamwork. It’s not just about who’s the strongest or fiercest, it’s about love and respect for others. All good things. And we have Buffy, we have Katniss, and (coming this summer!) the return of Sarah Connor. There is a difference, however, between our female heroes and their male counterparts, and that is that they are fleshed out, full characters. They are not mirrors to reflect an improved image of the audience, they are women with families, feelings and flaws; they are people, not archetypes.

These heroes are women, but they aren’t everywoman.
These heroes are women, but they aren’t everywoman.

 

As the monomyth evolves, the question is: will it evolve to include the “everywoman” hero archetype, or will the nature of myth itself change to embrace not just the messaging of individualization, but the representation of unique stories for unique people?

 

Morgan Faust is writer/director who works in LA with her creative partner and brother Max Isaacson. Together they form the duo BroSis. When they aren’t writing action films with kick-ass women heroes, they’re keeping it goofy over at FunnyorDie.com.  Click here to see what she means.

Twitter @morganfaust

Instagram @brosisgrams

 

 

A Modern Antihero’s Journey: The Goddess and Temptress in ‘Breaking Bad’

Breaking Bad promotional still.



Written by Leigh Kolb

Warning: Spoilers Ahead

Joseph Campbell immortalized the concept of the monomyth–or hero’s journey–in The Hero with a Thousand Faces, which is required reading for students of literature and film. Campbell mapped out the archetypical hero, who has traversed centuries of myths, stories, films and now, television shows.

With the rise of the antihero in film and television, Campbell’s roadmap of the hero’s journey is still accurate. It’s just more crooked.
Walter White is the perfect antihero, and his journey (from “Mr. Chips into Scarface,” as creator Vince Gilligan has said)–from his departure and initiation to his return–is in lock step with the story arc of heroes throughout history, albeit it with a lack of heroic qualities. Gilligan has artfully shaken and baked archetypes, symbolism, religious imagery and time-worn human motivation into one of the greatest–and most literary–television series ever.
Modern storytelling borrows from ancient narratives.
As Breaking Bad begins the final leg of its run, two pivotal women in Walt’s life are at the forefront of his life’s path. His wife, Skyler, acts as Campbell’s “goddess” figure, and Lydia has re-emerged as the “temptress.” As modern adaptations of Campbell’s archetypes, each is attempting to keep or draw Walt into a life that fits her needs, for better or worse.
At the end of the first part of Season 5, Skyler takes Walt into a storage locker where she has stashed their piles upon piles of money. She shows him that they have more than they need, and helps convince him to remove himself from the business. His megalomaniac greed was taking over, and Skyler seemed to be able to pull him back in. While Walt began his meth career ostensibly to support his family during his cancer treatments, by the time he was at the top, he was referencing his bitter anger at missing out on a fortune with Gray Matter Technologies and wanting to top what he could have been, had he not settled for the life he did.
Walt’s “meeting with the goddess,” as Skyler shows him that he has all he needs.
Skyler has served as Walt’s moral compass throughout the series. Even when she was scheming and plotting, her plans (the car wash, especially) were often the most efficient and certainly didn’t have the body count that Walt’s career trajectory has had. 
As a moral compass and goddess figure, Skyler doesn’t fit into the mold of what many would consider an archetypical “good” maternal force. It’s clear that she’s been an incredibly important force in Walt’s journey, and continues to be. Walt’s “meeting with the goddess”–when Skyler orchestrates the car wash, or when she takes him to the stockpile of money–changes him and shifts his course. This goddess figure is a twenty-first century force of maternal goodness–complicated, imperfect and often unlikeable. In “The True Anti-Hero of ‘Breaking Bad’ Isn’t Walter White,” Laura Bennett argues that

“…Skyler—brash, self-righteous, unsure of what it means to do the right thing—is a messier case. And even at her least likeable, she is key to what makes this show overall so compelling: its moral prickliness, the way its view of good and evil can seem at once so twisted and so stark.” 

Therein lies the brilliance of Breaking Bad–our complicated relationships with and emotions about the characters reflect modern crises in what is good and what is evil. The world is far more gray than most are comfortable admitting. This is obviously reflected in Walt’s character, but the female characters have the same complexity.

At this point on Walt’s journey, he appears to be back in a partnership with his wife. Walt enthusiastically shares ideas about expanding the carwash, and Skyler says she’ll “think about it.” She’s in the freshly shampooed driver’s seat.

Walt makes suggestions. Skyler says she’ll think about it.
Meanwhile, Walt’s former business partner, Lydia, is one of the only ones left from his previous operation. She has stayed in the meth game, and is starting to lose without Walt’s pristine product. Lydia goes to the carwash and orders a wash from Skyler. Lydia confronts Walt inside, and begs him to come back. “You’re putting me in a box here,” she says, and promises him that there’s a great deal of money in it for them both. 
Lydia is a shrewd businesswoman.
Lydia–Campbell’s temptress–is trying to pull him back in. Some viewers may see his new, emasculated position at the carwash with his wife as decision-maker as a step down, and want him to return to his prior “glory.” This temptation to go back to his old life could seduce Walt, and could seduce the viewer, who is addicted to watching Walt spiral into power and out of control. Certainly there are those who are cheering for him to be beckoned by the siren song.
Skyler confronts Walt and points out that people don’t bring rental cars to the carwash (she notices everything–Walt probably would have been caught long ago without her eyes). He tells her who Lydia was and what she wanted, and Skyler immediately confronts Lydia. “Get out of here now,” she tells her. “Go.”
Skyler confronts Lydia.
This is a twenty-first century goddess/temptress archetype. They are complicated and have their own motivations. They confront one another, and aren’t simply helpers or antagonists to the man on the journey. These compelling female characters, who play into a modern, “twisted” journey, are as noteworthy as the antihero who is taking the jagged, illegal path.

The goddess isn’t perfect. The temptress isn’t evil.

Moving female characters away from tired tropes is an excellent step (albeit uncomfortable, if you’re used to delineating female characters as one-dimensional stereotypes). 

As the final few episodes of Breaking Bad commence, Walt reminds Hank, and us, that “If you don’t know who I am, maybe your best course would be to tread lightly.” With Hank discovering who he is, and his cancer having returned, Walt is in a box, too. It remains to be seen what he does to get out of it, although we’re not given any indication that he chooses the path of so-called righteousness. That’s for Jesse, who remains the Christ figure as he throws money to those in need as Saul jokes about his sainthood.
Humans have been telling and re-telling stories throughout their existence. The stories have changed very little, considering the depth and breadth of human experience. However, the moral ambiguity of the antihero and the strong and complex female characters that are present in Breaking Bad may still fit Campbell’s monomyth, but they push and warp the time-worn boxes of good vs. evil. 
The female powers in fiction are often complex, course-changing and overlooked. Skyler and Lydia are frequently hated, ignored or seen as bit players–simply background dancers to Walt, the main event. However, they are still poised, just as they were in the first part of Season 5, to have a strong influence on the outcome of the story. As we as viewers hang in the balance, waiting for the untying of all of the knots that have been tightened in the last five seasons, the female characters are orchestrating and plotting, not just sitting by as passive bystanders. And that, of course, is just how it should be.
By the time Walt reaches his 52nd birthday, Skyler isn’t making his breakfast.

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Leigh Kolb is a composition, literature and journalism instructor at a community college in rural Missouri.