It’s a phrase most of us have likely heard thrown around in the last several years: Strong Female Character. Instinctually, when first encountering the term I leaned into it. I mean, how can something highlighting a powerful woman be negative? We need more strong women in our media, and putting a title to the phenomenon probably helps others identify it and thus, recreate it, right? Ideally, yes. In a better world, that could be true. However, in reality, the so-called Strong Female isn’t always what she seems, and therefore recreating her, again and again, hasn’t exactly panned out. This leads me to another term within social commentary (I know, I’m sorry) to establish: Trinity Syndrome.
In order to get into the shaky ground the Strong Female Character exists on, I need to explain my girl Trinity, and how she fits into this. Trinity is a character--dare I say, a so-called Strong Female herself--from The Matrix Trilogy.
She’s pretty badass looking, right? I agree. I first watched The Matrix when I was around nine (yes, that’s too young but c’est la vie, alright?) and I became obsessed. Just ask my mom. I watched the first and second movies over and over again throughout my childhood. I thought Trinity was awesome. Because she knew kung-fu and wore leather, I was hooked. But leather and kung-fu can be deceiving.
If you haven’t watched The Matrix, without giving away anything huge, here’s what you need to know to understand Trinity Syndrome: The movie mostly revolves around this guy Neo (Keanu Reeves). Long story short, he’s The One. You know what I mean, like in Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. He’s the white dude who fate has decided should be The One to save the day in the end, except in the Matrix they actually call him The One, like, every three seconds. And just like in those aforementioned movies, he starts out as kind of a nobody. He’s not important, or a genius, or skilled in any special way. He isn’t looking for adventure, the adventure finds him. In The Matrix, in particular, it finds him in the form of Trinity.
Established early on in the movie as a mega badass, Trinity shows up and immediately kills it. She’s the epitome of a Strong Female Character. She takes on a bunch of bad guys at once and wins. She’s cool in a nonchalant way. She knows kung-fu and wears leather. So far, you’re probably seeing nothing wrong with this picture. This is where the problem pointed out by Trinity Syndrome arises.
In movies like The Matrix, a kind of formula emerges. A boring, unskilled white dude is chosen for God knows what reason to become a hero. Either right before or right after that, a measurably superior woman like Trinity is also established. She’s usually smarter, better at fighting, and cooler than the leading man. Despite that, and despite her phenomenal skills, as soon as the Neo-esque character finds his way and trains, the Trinity in the story is cast aside. All those “strong” traits? Forget them! You probably won’t see them much anymore. And usually, the early-on purpose the Trinity character had taken on (generally fighting in some way, keeping people safe, trying to save the day herself, etc.) is replaced by a romantic objective. The guy takes on the action, and the previously powerful woman gives him a kiss.
So that is Trinity Syndrome--when an initially Strong Female Character is relegated to virtually nothing once a leading man is able to swoop in. Bonus points if this previously unstoppable woman eventually needs rescuing. Trinity Syndrome plagues more movies than you probably realize. The Lego Movie, Star Trek: Into Darkness, How to Train Your Dragon 2, The Hobbit, the list goes on (all of these movies and their relationships with Trinity Syndrome are discussed in this article that’s definitely worth reading).
None of this is to say there aren’t powerful female characters in film and television. However, a few issues have come to light alongside the increasing popularity of the title “Strong Female Character”. One issue stems from the pieces of media that do suffer from Trinity Syndrome. Blindly conflating those flimsily written characters with actual powerful women (like Ripley, Hermione, or Olivia Pope) paints a false and confusing picture of what it means to be “strong”. Putting the above characters in the same lineup as Trinity flat out does them an injustice, and likewise green-lights future Trinity’s to be brought to life under the guise of representation.
The other problem with a term as broad as “Strong Female Character” is the inherent fogginess regarding its own definition. What the hell does “strong” mean? Skilled at fighting? Smart? Just literally physically strong? Even further, it puts emphasis on the wrong traits necessary to successfully write a female character into your script. As Teresa Jusino writes, a more apt term for these characters is nuanced. I wouldn’t necessarily describe Amy Dunne, Juno Temple, or Holly Golightly as “strong” above all else unless I’m reaching pretty hard. I guess they all show strength in certain ways, but is it not a flat phrase to label them as? Nuance, however, is anything but flat. Not to mention the word doesn’t really leave room for accidental labeling of women like Trinity.
I am not suggesting that you’re a bad person if you still enjoy movies with gals like Trinity--no matter what I do I will never retire my love for The Matrix nor that you shouldn't describe a female character as strong. However, continually utilizing such a hollow and misleading title to denote any female character we think is cool, or smart, or well written, does a disservice not only to the truly well written among the bunch, but to real women as well. Describe to yourself characters like Hannibal Lecter, Frodo Baggins, or Forrest Gump in three words, and see if the word “strong” ends up among them. We as women deserve a higher bar to aspire to in our representation. We deserve nuance.