That's not the definition of "fickle." It means changing your mind capriciously and randomly, for no evident reason. Changing your mind for a good reason is not fickleness; it's growth. The people to be pitied are the ones who refuse to change their minds about anything no matter how much new information comes along.
Okay, that makes sense. Guess I was thinking about how hard it is to please everyone and how audiences can
seem fickle, given that the subjective nature of film.
For one thing, that's not true; plenty of stories have more than one coequal lead character. Ideally, in a well-written story, every character has their own full-fledged identity and motivations driving them, because that feels more realistic than having them just be obvious plot devices to serve the lead character.
Sure, co-leads, supporting characters getting subplots and all that are things. I also agree that the best supporting characters are given more development than just being the stock whatever. But there's also selective focus on certain parts of the narrative; I mean, in fiction, you're taking the world and focusing it through a certain perspective or perspectives to create a narrative. Everything in the book that's not color needs to support that narrative in some way, right?
(Your explanation kind of sums up my problems with the ASM movie's versions of Gwen. I didn't see her having a full-fledged identity and very few motivations. Your mileage may vary, of course, but that describes my opinion very clearly.)
The problem with fridging is about the cumulative pattern of treating female characters as plot devices. It's not about any single work, it's about the overall practice. If it had just been done once, or if it were equally distributed between male and female characters, it wouldn't be a problem. The problem is that it isn't equal, that the historical trend for generations has been to allow only male characters to be fully realized individuals and to treat female characters merely as components of male characters' narratives.
I can see what you mean. As far as comics go, a lot of comics have male lead characters, so they are going to be the storytelling priority. I'm guessing more female-lead series, stories, movies, etc. would probably even things out more (and, as
Star Wars is showing, there can be a market for that).
And really, that was why Gwen's death felt more like a fridging in the movie than it did in the comics. In the comics, Gwen never really was more than Peter's love interest. The movies' Gwen transcended that to become a fully realized human being in her own right, which was a much better way to approach a female character -- and yet she was still condemned to the same cliched fate of being killed merely in service to a male character's narrative. So that just threw the cliche into relief, and it felt like a poor fit for that incarnation of the character.
I still submit that Gwen was nothing more that Peter's love interest in the series. As you've pointed out, she was used as a plot device (every step of the way, I'll contend, but your mileage may vary). Also, she never had any form of story arc that I can tell. She didn't grow as a character, her decisions had minimal impact on the story (in the dating relationship, Peter was the only one making decisions, as I recall), there was no real life goal for her, she wasn't given much definition as a character outside of her dating life (we did see that she was interested in science, but nothing very specific and only used for how it helped or hindered Peter). As always, your mileage may vary, but I remain unimpressed with the character.
(That said, since you hold the opinion that the character was well-handled, I can comprehend why you think that having her die like she did was a bad call. Also, I'm not harping on this point out of annoyance; I'm having fun comparing notes; I find this kind of thing and how different people have different views of the same thing interesting.)
You're forgetting what I said. All those external considerations are distractions. A story needs to be true to itself. It needs to be honest, to have everything that happens in it arise from the characterizations and motives and circumstances that are within the story. If you force a character to act in a way that doesn't grow organically out of that, that's imposed based on something outside the story, that's dishonest, artificial, and unbelievable. It's bad writing. A good story is one that enables the reader to believe it's really happening to real people. And that means everything has to make sense within the story's own parameters, independent of anything beyond it. The characters need to feel like they're making their own choices, not just being puppeteered by external forces.
Okay. (I was actually thinking out loud when I typed the preceding comment.)
Spidey's cockiness works because it's in character for him. That's all. It's got nothing to do with the audience's calculations or expectations, it's about what he is feeling in that moment in his life. And Garfield's Spidey was a supremely cocky version of the character, so it would've been a good fit for him.
Maybe that's why I didn't like his version very much.
That's one reading, but it's been interpreted in different ways over the years. I know the Goblin said in one version (maybe the original?) that nobody could've saved her from a fall of that height.
Yeah, I think so, although I've gathered that the "Spidey accidentally killed Gwen with the whiplash" model has become more or less assumed to be the way it happened (I understand that subsequent 616 comics have assumed as much, versions where Spider-Man saves Mary Jane from the same fate are written so that the whiplash won't be a factor, etc.). Personally, I think that version makes for a better drama than the alternate versions where nothing Spidey could've done nothing to stop it.
Even if something is part of a larger story, it still needs to work on its own terms. Writing is a balancing act. If something is both a standalone story and part of a larger story, then you need to balance both aspects instead of choosing one over the other. But whatever happens still has to feel authentic. It can't be obvious that you're just manipulating the situation from outside to force a desired outcome.
And if you write yourself into a corner, often that means that the direction you were trying to head in was the wrong one. I had that experience myself recently, with an original story I've been working on. I got stuck on it for a while, and eventually I realized that I couldn't see how to make it work because it was the wrong way to go. I assumed I needed to bring a certain character's arc to a conclusion in order to clear the way for a different relationship to form, but when I thought about it, when I considered how the characters and their relationships had ended up developing, I realized that wasn't the right way to go after all. So I changed my plans. I'd had this plan in mind for these characters for years, but now that I've actually written the stories, I've learned new things about who they are and how they relate, and so my old assumptions no longer work so well. If I'd clung to my original plans and artificially forced the characters to go that way, it wouldn't have turned out very well. Yes, I've had to change certain long-term plans, but writing is a process of change and discovery. Discarding old ideas in favor of better ones is an essential part of the process.
Got it. Interesting insight, thanks.
The original Gwen character had an identity that was not just being Parker's girlfriend; in fact, she often struggled with trying to defend Parker from those who attacked Peter for being "cowardly" or displaying a lack of engagement in the issues of the day. She climbed another character step once her father was killed (by Doctor Octopus) to be portrayed as a mature woman at the same time Mary Jane was looking for the next party. That was not to be found in the movie version, where Stone's Gwen moved from a very surface-skimming perky character to attempted concern never believably written for the character. But that lack of character development did not matter, since she was pulled along from scene to scene by the moment everyone was expecting to be adapted sooner or later.
As noted above, the comic book Gwen had more depth, but the Garfield films cared little for that, instead, only introducing her for the purpose of exploiting her then-forthcoming death.
I think you're one of the first people I've seen to argue that 616 comics Gwen was a good character. Practically all reports I've seen agree that by the end, she was a pretty underwritten, clingy, waterworks and the great character she's remembered as by fans and in-universe is revisionist history.
The Raimi Spider-Man would be used where he would best be served--not the Avengers, but perhaps a Winter Soldier kind of story (certainly more character driven), where a few come together (unofficially and off-record) to deal with something with personal ties. In hat way, he would still be an active part of the MCU, but he does not have to be in the weaker spectacles such as the Avengers movies.
I don't think it was even a consideration to grandfather that series in the first place.
I found it was a vocal minority among Spider-Man fans who praised the terrible Garfield films, while Rami's SM2 (and SM1 to a slightly lesser degree) is still considered not only one of the best Marvel adaptations, but superhero films overall. The Garfield films were never in that conversation, and its easy to see why.
I guess you and I traveled in different circles. To be fair, I think there were pro-Garfield people who though the movies he was in were mediocre, but liked his portrayal because they thought it was true to the character, worked well in the story, or whatever reason they had.
