What Exactly is a "Strong Female Character"?

In the 1970s, Secret deodorant debuted the slogan “Strong enough for a man, but made for a woman.” This questionable line implores women to borrow masculine strength in order to meet their needs. It puts a barrier between strength and womanhood as though the two do not quite go together.  

In the language of marketing, “strong” means lot more than how much you can bench press. It indicates strength of character: resilience, endurance, power, conviction. Not everybody cares about physical strength, but to be “strong” in the colloquial sense is universally admirable.

The term “strong female character” gets thrown around a lot in the entertainment world. Any substantive woman’s role qualifies for the SFC label. But what exactly does the word suggest when appended to a lady onscreen? No one ever talks about “strong male characters.” Ostensibly because society thinks of strength as implicit to malenes. So strength, a universally admirable trait, is characteristic of all men, and some women. What is this quality that we demand of one gender and witthold from the other?

In the 1990s and early 2000s, SFC was nearly synonymous with “gun-toting Barbie doll”. Action movies were full of ass-kicking sex bombs embodied by the likes of Milla Jovovitch and Angelina Jolie. These women existed in a cultural purgatory between masturbatory object and feminist icon. They were skilled fighters, capable of physically overpowering their male opponents. They were usually witty, resourceful, and uber-competent. They were also designed to fulfill male fantasies. Among the most famous of this SFC type was a trio of lethal beauties who belonged, in a sense, to their male employer: Charlie’s Angels. This archetype was the opposite of Secret deodorant: strong enough for a woman, but made for a man.

The heydey of the ass-kicking sex bomb has since given way to a more complex descendent: the troubled heroine. The woman whose turbulent past and/or personality disorders almost prevent her from achieving her objective.

The ancient world produced epic heroes with tragic flaws. Today, instead of epics, there are franchises. There are phenomenally successful book series adapted into high-grossing trilogies. In this mold are The Hunger Games and The Girl with a Dragon Tattoo whose female leads possess the demigodlike combination of grit, smarts, and exceptional skill necessary to overcome unthinkable odds. These SFCs are not just strong, they’re epic hero strong.

But most people, let’s face it, are not epic hero strong. How can strength be calibrated outside of the action oeuvre? To answer that, one may consult the wisdom of the Netflix cue, where the term “strong female lead” can be tacked on to virtually any other subgenre according to viewer preference.

Amidst the lists of “quirky Independent movies,” “romantic workplace comedies” and “visually striking dramas” we find a staggering variety of women at the helm. They are doctors, librarians, prostitutes, socialites, and prison inmates. They are gay and straight, liberal and conservative, of every age and race, on every rung of the socio-economic ladder. They are love-starved executives, pregnant teens, medieval peasants, and Queen Elizabeth. So what do all these strong female leads have in common? They’re all the main character of a movie or TV show, and…that’s about it.

Recent popular shows Scandal, Homeland, Breaking Bad and Mad Men all have engaging, enigmatic protagonists. They are exceptional in some ways, profoundly flawed in others. It is their weakness as much as their strength that makes them so compelling to watch. And while Olivia Pope and Carrie Mathison are regularly deemed SFCs, it’s hard to imagine anyone calling Walter White or Don Draper a “strong male lead.” Or counting it among their virtues that they can carry a whole television show. This double standard suggests that while any man can be the main character, only an exceptional woman can take the lead. Nobody wins.

The tacit expectation is unfair to men. Not all men wish to adhere to mainstream culture’s notions of masculine strength. Then again, if strength were indiscriminantly awarded to every person on the planet, the concept would lose its meaning. Everyone has the potential to be strong, and whether they are realizing that potential should be considered on a case-by-case basis.

Joss Whedon, who has long been praised for his SFC-heavy projects, said in 2007 that equality should be regarded “like gravity.” A basic fact of existence. Many creators, both male and female, continue to work to improve how women are represented in popular culture. There is every reason to look forward to more movies and shows featuring increasingly complex, interesting roles for people of all genders. As for now, it’s time to retire the phrase “strong female character.” Women will do just fine without it.