Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Why Aren't Good Characters Allowed to Die?

Warning: Spoilers for Mad Max: Fury Road ahead!

I wanted to post this blog last Tuesday, but I found myself needing more time to think through what I wanted to write about and why this topic means so much to me. After watching Mad Max: Fury Road, an important topic in literature came to mind: good characters being allowed to die. So many characters have survived, both in cinema and in literature, who should have been given the chance to die for their cause rather than survive. At what point does a character's survival do more damage than good? Are we afraid to allow good characters death? If so, why?

In Mad Max: Fury Road, Furiosa, perhaps one of the strongest female characters I've seen in a while, comes near the brink of death, but in the final scene of the film, Max helps her out of the cabin of their vehicle to a cheering crowd. My initial reaction was a slack-jawed gape. Furiosa was alive. After a collapsed lung, losing so much blood that she could barely stay conscious, and, to boot, no medical equipment, she was able to crawl out of the cabin of a vehicle and sit atop the hood of the car. Excuse me? Why? Why was this character not dead? Certainly, I could believe there was a very slim chance she survived, but that she could maneuver in the way she did seemed beyond belief. Another thought occurred to me then.

Why was it so important that Furiosa be allowed to live? For a movie that pushed so many boundaries, made even me a little uncomfortable in a few scenes (and that's pretty hard to do), why not let such a powerful character die? Mortality is becoming more and more trivialized in media--from generic "bad guys," who are given little to no depth and development, simply being killed by the protagonist, to the protagonist not dying or coming only close to death themselves--and such trivialization is causing people to desire heroes and heroines who defy the laws of nature. Let me ask--how would it have impacted the film if Furiosa had been allowed to perish? (And note here that I've never read any of the Mad Max graphic novels; my argument exists solely in the case of the film adaption.) The mass of people at the end would have cheered at the death of Immortan Joe all the same, and Max might have looked like the hero (which he arguably is); it may have forced him to stick around a bit longer and deal with things he's not comfortable with (i.e., people), but it also would have given the film a chance to explore what happens when the masses lose a leader and don't have an immediate replacement. This to me is a much more interesting story than Furiosa rebuilding the society as a hero.

I suspect the death of characters is why A Song of Ice and Fire (Game of Thrones) is doing so well. Allowing characters--and good ones at that--to die shows an important method of growing a story. Yet, the same flaw can be argued for Martin's work. Tyrion should be dead. That ax to the face should have killed him (in the books more so than the TV adaption; that injury was brutal), but it didn't. I suspect that because Tyrion is Martin's favorite character to write, he has let the Imp survive longer than he should have. Tyrion is also a fan-favorite, which means his death could damage ratings to the point where the show is canceled before it can finish. Here is where the audience influences the outcome of something as of yet incomplete. Many producers, especially for TV series or for film franchises, are turning to the masses to dictate what happens--not because they want to push the boundaries of the art form and storytelling, but because they want money and they want to please their fans. Plain and simple.

This isn't a bad thing. Look at My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. Because producers and writers for the show are hyper aware of what fans think and are saying, they can integrate episodes such as Slice of Life into the roster. They can also disprove or make canon certain ideas and theories. This is fantastic. It's the first time writers and producers and artists have this sort of access to audience reaction, and such a resource is a very, very powerful tool. Misused, though, that tool can do more damage than good. I believe in the case of Furiosa that her being allowed to live lessened the impact of what it means to be mortal. Immortan Joe's death was expected, as was Furiosa's survival, which made the entire film seem less... well, just less. There was less of an impact, less emotional investment, and less power behind the actions of the characters near the end. In fact, my favorite character in the movie, Nux, had the death that impacted me the most. He arguably had the most growth of any character as well. His death was wonderful, brilliantly executed (HA!), and had a lasting effect--but the problem? It didn't truly impact the plot of the story at all. His death allowed their escape, yes, but that was it. He was fodder.

In the case of Furiosa, her death could have had an actual, lasting presence. What it would have meant to have her corpse hoisted toward the tower where Immortan Joe used to stand--just imagine it! How that could have affected everyone watching. Yes, Joe was vanquished, but at what cost? How could the people do better in the future? How could they make certain this didn't happen again? With Furiosa's survival, almost none of those questions matter to the masses; they only matter to Furiosa and a small group of people, who, when they die, may not be able to ensure such methods of caring for people are used.

The same goes for Tyrion's death. Imagine how much of A Song of Ice and Fire would have changed if he had been allowed to die.

Death plays so many roles in literature. It can restore a character's dignity and honor to the public, if they've perished for the right reasons, or offer a change and challenge to the people who are usually being saved, swayed, or controlled by the character's actions or the actions of the antagonist. A dead protagonist gives more breadth to the story; such a final end allows the audience to truly become invested in a story. Why would I be invested if there isn't a mortal consequence to a character's actions*? What's at stake, personally, for the character? No, it doesn't always have to be their life, but part of why I enjoyed Mad Max: Fury Road is because, from the get-go, death was an enormous stake--one which could have been a useful tool at the end of the film.

Anyway, those are my brief thoughts on Mad Max: Fury Road and character mortality.

* Note that many of the characters in my personal work are not mortal, but I abide by the law that there are things far worse than death in the world; I explore many of these outcomes in the hopes of manipulating the reader--and in many cases, my characters--into wishing that death were an option. And, if it ever becomes one, it is a relief, a victory for the reader and the character, not a punishment.

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