Is It Too Late to Talk About the Misinterpretation of the 'Good For Her' Cinematic Universe?

"good for her–" *gun shots*

I recently watched Gone Girl (2014) for the first time. Yeah, I know, sue me. I knew it was a mystery/thriller, I knew about the plot twist, and of course, I had heard the infamous “cool girl” monologue. After I watched it, all I could think was, this is what feminism has been boiled down to now? For years, I’d seen people online hail this film as a feminist masterpiece and apply the classic “I support women’s rights but more importantly I support women’s wrongs” joke to the character of Amy Dunne. And while I do think that the film does have some feminist undertones, they’ve been watered down and pushed aside to praise Amy for seeking revenge on her husband. To be fair, I do think many people understand that Amy is not an aspirational character, but it got me thinking about the other films out there with female protagonists that have been woefully misinterpreted and put in the “Good For Her Cinematic Universe.”

Originating with the gif above from the sitcom Arrested Development, the “Good For Her Cinematic Universe” (GFHCU) is known as a collection of films with female protagonists who endure turmoil and triumphantly come out on top at the end. Many of these films are in the horror, thriller, and dark comedy genres but there are more light-hearted entries as well.

I am certainly not the first person to write about this. In a great 2021 article by Kaiya Shunyata for Lithium Magazine, titled “We Need to Talk About the ‘Good For Her’ Genre”, Shunyata discusses how the character of Amy Dunne doesn’t represent feminism, but rather white womanhood. Her privilege allows her to seek revenge because her status affords her the luxury of knowing she most likely won’t be caught. She also mentions Dani from Midsommar (2019) and how the ending, when she’s crowned May Queen and watches her shitty boyfriend burn to death, is not this ultimate moment of control, but rather a terrifying conclusion that Dani is now trapped in a white supremacist cult who saw her fragility and used it against her.

Amy and Dani are very popular examples of the misinterpretation of the GFHCU. I’d like to discuss some of my favorite films that have been used for out-of-context memes and even merch. This is in no way groundbreaking but this is my newsletter after all, so why not use it as catharsis for seeing beloved films so badly misinterpreted?

Jennifer’s Body (2009) dir. Diablo Cody

Jennifer’s Body has seen its well-deserved resurgence in recent years, thanks to #MeToo. While there’s no doubt that this is a feminist horror film for the ages, this cathartic revenge narrative has somehow been placed on the character of Jennifer and not the character who actually comes out on top; her best friend, Needy.

After being sacrificed for a ritual by a mediocre rock band, Jennifer is turned into a succubus because the band needed a virgin for the sacrifice and Jennifer isn’t a virgin. After Jennifer awakens, she is disoriented and shocked, but she quickly learns that she is now a supernatural being and must be sustained by human flesh. Naturally, she decides to eat the flesh of boys that she seduces and lures into her trap.

However, the boys she eats are only guilty of perpetual horniness. Jennifer isn’t the embodiment of a rape-revenge fantasy–she’s become a monster as a result of a traumatic event. Her character is reminiscent of women who become hypersexual after being attacked in an effort to regain control, which doesn’t always work.

The sexual assault allegory is an integral part of the film and I am in no way minimizing what it means for people. However, the main aspect of the film is Jennifer’s friendship with Needy. They’re super close but Jennifer is controlling and possessive of Needy, often putting her down. Jennifer’s status as a demon represents their toxic relationship. Over the course of the film, Needy learns the truth about Jennifer and puts a stop to it. After a lifetime of being treated poorly by Jennifer, Needy is the one with power as she rips the friendship necklace off Jennifer’s neck and stabs her in the heart, effectively killing her and putting an end to the murders, one of which included Needy’s own boyfriend.

It’s revealed later that after breaking out of prison, Needy tracks down the band and kills them for what they did to Jennifer. It’s also revealed that Jennifer bit Needy during their final battle and since Needy survived, she has gained some of Jennifer’s powers. Needy is the one who wins in the end, becoming powerful after ending a toxic friendship. Of course, since she’s an inmate on the run, the ending isn’t all sunshine and roses, but in the film’s context, it’s about as “good for her” as you can get.

Jennifer was assaulted, killed, turned into a monster, and ultimately killed again. She started the film as a happy teen girl excited to see her favorite band with her best friend and ended as a murderous demon killed for her crimes. In what way did she come out on top? Why is Jennifer the face of “good for her” and not Needy?

Carrie (1976) dir. Brian De Palma

Carrie thoroughly terrified me when I watched it at 9 years old (I don’t know why my mom let me watch it with her). I couldn’t get the image of her bloodstained body and wide, possessed eyes out of my head. She was a villain in my traumatized childhood memory. When I read the book and re-watched the film when I was older, I saw Carrie in a new light. I felt utterly sad for her. Everyone failed this girl.

With an abusive, unhinged religious mother at home and relentless bullies at school, Carrie White has no room to become her own woman. The film begins with her getting her period; she doesn’t even know what a period is and screams in terror, thinking she’s dying. The other girls in the locker room mock her and throw tampons at her, effectively making an already traumatic experience worse. She confronts her mother about it and is told periods are a punishment from God for the sins of women. This sets off the events of the film. From this point on, Carrie is disillusioned with her mother and begins to question everything she’s been taught.

Above all, Carrie seeks control and independence. Since she’s been repressed in every way, shape, and form her whole life, this creates a storm inside her, and pretty soon this desire for control and independence manifests in the form of telekinesis. As she becomes her own woman throughout the film (seeking knowledge, challenging her mother, going to prom with a boy, wearing the dress she wants, etc.), her powers grow. But it’s not without consequences. Her powers are sourced from all the repressed emotions inside her and they are shown to consume her at times.

The “Good For Her” girls hail the infamous prom scene as Carrie’s ultimate act of revenge on her bullies. But this scene is taken out of context in order to fit the genre. For one, not everyone who died on prom night was mean to Carrie. Her gym teacher showed her kindness and was met with a gruesome end. Also, Carrie hallucinated that everyone at the prom was laughing at her like her mother said they would. In reality, they were just as shocked as her. Two, Carrie’s “revenge” was a direct result of her powers consuming her. The pig’s blood was the final straw that made her lose control. She snapped. I’m not saying Carrie didn’t have any agency here, but there’s room for nuance. At that moment, she realized that maybe her mother was right. That’s why she walked back to her house after the massacre. She was returning to what was familiar.

At home, Carrie’s mother, believing she is a witch who needs to be killed, stabs Carrie with a kitchen knife. Carrie fights back and effectively kills her mother by crucifying her against a wall with several sharp objects (a death her mother takes delight in, viewing herself as a martyr). Carrie is horrified by everything she has done. She brings the house down. Her final moments in the film involve her clutching her mother’s dead body as the house burns down and falls apart around her, eventually covering the both of them in ruin.

Carrie punished herself.

So, we have a repressed teenage girl beginning her feminine awakening with rage and all-consuming powers. Her one chance at a normal night ends in bloodshed and she kills herself. Although it’s a dream sequence from the POV of another character, the final few seconds of the film show Carrie’s destroyed house, with a sign out front telling her to burn in hell. She is forever remembered as the outcast who killed dozens of people in a murderous rage. In what way did she come out on top?

The Witch (2015) dir. Robert Eggers

The Witch is one of the more modern entries in reimagining the trope of the evil-doing witch seeking to wreak havoc on the good-doing Christians. Many hail it as a transformative tale that flips the aforementioned trope on its head and sings female empowerment. But writer/director Robert Eggers said in a Q&A referenced in this article for Kill Screen by Jess Joho: “I didn’t set out to make a feminist empowerment narrative. But I learned that writing a witch story is kind of one and the same.” An audience’s interpretation can go beyond an artist’s intent, and art is made better for it, but it is important to consider an artist’s intent when analyzing their work.

Thomasin, the protagonist, is shunned from her Puritan community and forced to live in the middle of nowhere with her mother, father, and four younger siblings.

Their new life is desolate. Their crops are failing, they live in a shack, and winter is coming. Survival is not looking likely. As the eldest child and daughter, Thomasin is put under immense pressure to care for her family and act like the pure child of God she is. But after an unexplained and tragic incident involving the death of her youngest brother, Thomasin is blamed for everything that goes wrong from that point onward. And boy, do things go wrong.

As the film progresses, the family of religious fanatics believes a witch is responsible for their misfortunes. One of the siblings falls ill and the family believes he is being possessed; he eventually dies as he proclaims his devotion to Christ. The two youngest siblings talk to the family billy goat, Black Phillip, and claim to forget the scriptures; they tell their parents that Thomasin is a witch and made them do it. Thomasin tries milking the female goat but all that comes out is blood. Eventually, Thomasin’s entire family turns against her, believing she is the witch causing them harm. Towards the end, after the real witch has killed Thomasin’s family and Thomasin has killed her own mother in self-defense, Thomasin speaks to Black Phillip, who answers her.

Black Phillip, now revealing himself as the Devil, asks Thomasin if she’d like to “live deliciously” and then transforms into a man and says that Thomasin must strip naked, sign her name in his book, and join the coven of witches in the woods in order to live a life of freedom and luxury. Thomasin does, and in the end, she laughs maniacally as she levitates with the other witches.

Along with Midsommar, The Witch is an example of a film where just because the ending shows the protagonist laughing or smiling doesn’t mean it’s a positive outcome. Arguments have been made for and against the concept of Thomasin being free and empowered. In some aspects, Thomasin is these things at the end. She rejects the religion that betrayed her and embraces her new identity; her family already thought her a witch, so why not become one for real? With this new identity, she is free from the shackles of religious and societal expectations.

However, we have to think of the circumstances that led Thomasin to this decision. Thomasin is now traumatized from watching her family die and killing her own mother. In her eyes, she is no longer pure; her “sin” of self-defense has separated her from God and she feels incredibly guilty. She is in the middle of nowhere, with no food, no shelter, and no way back to her old village (who wouldn’t take her in anyway). The witch would probably have come for her eventually. Thomasin’s decision to sign the Devil’s book was born out of a need for survival. She had no other options unless she wanted to die a slow, painful death by starvation/dehydration/exposure to the elements, or a violent, gruesome death by the witch.

And who is to say the Devil would keep his promises to her? The witches may look liberated as they dance nakedly around the fire, but they all have their names in his book. They all answer to him. Thomasin is trading one extreme devotion for another. In what way is she triumphant? Liberated? In what way did she come out on top?

I think we’re still seeing the ramifications of decontextualized moments in films being lauded as female empowerment and I don’t think it will stop any time soon. Especially considering how in recent years, terms used in film academia such as “the male gaze” have spilled over into mainstream cultural conversations and are not being used in their proper context. Art invites many interpretations and there are no clear “right” or “wrong” answers. But textual evidence must be taken into account. These are my interpretations and reasonings for why I think these films need to be removed from the Good For Her Cinematic Universe.