Death as plot device reveals underlying issues in media
This column is intended to analyze the role women play in film — both in front of and behind the camera, above and below the line. But it would be remiss of me to ignore the ever burgeoning world of television (both on air and on the internet). To analyze women in film is to analyze women in the industry, and to analyze women in the industry is to analyze television. And the last couple months have been tumultuous for female characters on television, especially gay women.
This debate has been argued to the nth degree across the internet and there is more educated, intelligent scholarship on the matter beyond this column, but the issue only recently came to my attention.
This past Tuesday, I had a phone interview (for a school-related project) with screenwriter and TV showrunner Javier Grilllo-Marxuach, who is not only in charge of the new Xena: Warrior Princess reboot at NBC but is also a producer on the CW’s The 100.
When discussing Xena and the depiction of the gay undertones throughout the original version of the show and how it might differ with this upcoming reboot, Javier said that he feels especially mindful of how to treat a possible gay relationship in Xena now than ever before. This mindfulness comes after the onslaught of criticism that erupted after the death of The 100’s Lexa (Alycia Debnam-Carey), a known and beloved lesbian character. Lexa’s death was just one in a string of deaths that would permeate the television landscape this spring, and is what caused such an outcry of disappointment (and outrage) among fans and critics alike.
Second, I read The Hollywood Reporter’s TV critic Daniel Fienberg’s article addressing the fact that six major female characters were killed off in the week before last on TV. Fienberg addresses the fact that the women were not all gay, and that they probably weren’t killed off based on any singular trope that TV writers had told each other secretly and maliciously in order to perpetuate some sort of message. Instead, he describes the six female characters and the various reasons behind their deaths (contracts were up, it was based on the source material’s plot, “the story demanded it” etc.) and how the murders might affect the consensus of the shows. He doesn’t go too in depth into the Bury Your Gays argument. Although he points out that it is, in fact, valid he describes what he feels is a much larger issue, and that issue is the use of death as a plot device.
Fienberg’s report really honed in on what I find is at issue with television at the moment because it seems we’ve found ourselves in a bit of a rut creatively. Regardless of the fact that six women were killed last week on television, I feel like the real problem arrives with the construct of killing off characters at all. It is a common device used in writers rooms and plot lines: if an actor wants off a show or the story needs a bit more drama, kill off a favorite character and make the audience pay attention again. Death may alienate an audience but it also attracts attention, and none of us are unfamiliar with the concept of “bad press is good press.” The use of death in a show is about as prevalent as the use of an anti-hero as our main character (Don Draper, Tony Soprano, Walter White, Dr. House, etc.). Having been in several screenwriting classes myself, I have also witnessed the employment of death as an instigator for action, more often than not. And so I feel that the true issue lies at the rate in which this happens.
It’s not just that women are being killed off, or gay characters (although these are issues to keep in mind) it’s that we, as a culture, have come so accustomed to writing and receiving this type of plot device. HBO’s show The Sopranos, which ran from 1999 to 2007, is largely considered one of the first television shows to kick off the “Golden Age” of television and is also credited for being one of the greatest shows of all time. All that notoriety given to a show about mob boss Tony Soprano, who has no qualms with killing off an ancillary character just because he feels like it, at any time he wants.
We don’t object to these deaths because they are under the guise of art or great, engrossing drama, but I think that we — collectively — need to take a step back and start to earn back the use of death in our stories. This isn’t just about desensitization. It’s about realizing that death is not an issue to be taken lightly or use haphazardly and with abandon. Television is a powerful medium and death equally so, but it feels as if it’s being treated uncarefully and without thought.
Minnie Schedeen is a a junior majoring in cinema and media studies. Her column, “Film Fatale,” runs on Mondays.