Forgive me, internet, for my absence. It has been a while since my last deep dive, but for good reason. Sometimes, life pulls you away, and in my case, it was the need to engage in less glamorous pursuits for a while. But fear not, the creative gears are turning once more, and I’m back to delve into the narratives that captivate and challenge us. Today, let’s talk about Agent Carter, a series that deserves far more recognition than it often receives.
The world of comic books and their cinematic counterparts has historically been less than equitable for women. For decades, these universes were largely crafted by men, for men. Female characters often found themselves relegated to stereotypical roles, their primary function being little more than eye candy or damsels in distress. As a fan of superhero stories, it’s been a frustrating journey to witness the underdevelopment and misrepresentation of so many powerful female figures. If I had a penny for every time a female character’s storyline was mishandled, I could probably fund my own superhero movie – one with a woman in the lead, naturally.
Thankfully, the landscape is shifting. The surge in popularity of superhero movies and TV shows has brought with it a crucial realization: women are a significant part of the audience, both in front of and behind the screens. More women are not only consuming this media but are actively contributing to the creative process, demanding richer, more nuanced portrayals of female characters.
However, even with this progress, female-led superhero movies remain a rarity. Looking back at the modern superhero movie era, beginning with the reboots of Marvel and DC franchises in the mid-2000s, the number of films headlined by women is shockingly low. Before the recent shift, we had missteps like Catwoman (2004) and Elektra (2005), and going further back, Supergirl (1984) and Tank Girl (1995). That’s essentially the entire list of live-action, cinema-released comic book movies with a solo female lead until very recently.
The upcoming Wonder Woman movie, at the time of the original article, represented a pivotal moment. Its success was crucial, as the failures of Catwoman and Elektra had been unfairly used to justify the absence of female-led superhero projects. The pressure was immense: Wonder Woman had to succeed not just on its own merits, but for the future of female representation in the genre. The same anticipation surrounded Captain Marvel, then in pre-production. And the conversation about LGBTQ+ representation in superhero media was only just beginning, highlighting the long road ahead for inclusivity.
While Hollywood announced a massive slate of comic-based movies, the number featuring women in lead roles remained disproportionately small. Black Widow, a character of immense depth and complexity within the Avengers universe, was notably absent from solo movie plans for a long time. Some argued that a two-hour movie couldn’t do her story justice, and this perspective points towards the strength of television as a medium for character development.
Television has become a fertile ground for superhero narratives, with series like Green Arrow, The Flash, Supergirl, Daredevil, and Jessica Jones, alongside Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., flourishing on the small screen. While some might view these characters as second-tier compared to the Avengers or Justice League, television offers the space to explore their complexities in ways that film often cannot. This is particularly true for female characters, who often navigate the added pressures of gender expectations alongside their heroic duties. And no series exemplifies this better than Agent Carter.
Agent Carter, starring the brilliant Hayley Atwell as Peggy Carter, takes us back to the post-World War II era. We first met Peggy in Captain America: The First Avenger as Steve Rogers’s love interest, but she was far from a damsel in distress. She was his equal, capable and intelligent, operating in a world that consistently underestimated her. After Captain America’s apparent sacrifice, Peggy’s story continues in her own series.
Agent Carter picks up shortly after the war, with Peggy working at the Strategic Scientific Reserve (SSR) in New York. Despite her wartime contributions, she faces rampant sexism in her daily work life. Her male colleagues dismiss her abilities, assigning her menial tasks while they handle the real missions. This frustration becomes the catalyst for her own clandestine investigations when Howard Stark, believing in her skills, enlists her help to clear his name from treason charges. Stark’s loyal butler, Edwin Jarvis, becomes her indispensable partner in these endeavors.
Peggy also finds an ally in Daniel Sousa, an SSR agent and war veteran who, like Peggy, is often sidelined due to his physical limitations – a visible limp. Sousa understands Peggy’s struggle against underestimation, contrasting with agents like Jack Thompson, who embodies the prevailing misogyny and sees Peggy as more of a hindrance than an asset.
One of the most compelling aspects of Agent Carter is its unflinching portrayal of sexism, racism, and patriarchal attitudes prevalent in the post-war era. Peggy’s experiences are a stark reminder of the systemic barriers women faced, and continue to face, in professional environments. The show highlights these injustices with a sharp, believable lens, from Peggy being relegated to answering phones to the demeaning portrayal of “Agent Carter” in a fictional radio show.
Season two of Agent Carter takes the narrative to Los Angeles, where Sousa is now heading the west coast SSR office. Peggy’s move to LA not only shifts the scenery but also introduces a vibrant cast of new female characters, enriching the show’s feminist themes.
Among these standout characters is Ana Jarvis, Edwin Jarvis’s wife. Ana is a delightful and complex character who defies expectations. Her introduction subverts the trope of female rivalry, establishing a warm and supportive friendship with Peggy from their first meeting. Ana is secure, witty, and fiercely loving towards her husband, creating a refreshing portrayal of female camaraderie and a healthy, balanced relationship.
Ana’s character is a breath of fresh air. Instead of portraying her as a jealous wife, the show develops her into a supportive friend to Peggy, showcasing a rare and valuable depiction of female friendship in media. Their bond is built on mutual respect and admiration, further highlighting the series’ feminist undercurrents.
Another significant female character introduced in season two is Violet, Sousa’s nurse girlfriend. Initially, Violet also seems poised for a potential rivalry with Peggy. However, she too defies this trope. Violet is intelligent and perceptive, and when she realizes Sousa’s lingering feelings for Peggy, she makes the mature and selfless decision to end their engagement, placing the responsibility squarely on Sousa’s shoulders without animosity towards Peggy.
Contrasting these positive female figures is the season’s antagonist, Whitney Frost. Whitney is a chilling example of what happens when a woman’s intellect and ambition are systematically suppressed by a patriarchal society. Introduced as a Hollywood actress and wife of a powerful businessman, it quickly becomes clear that Whitney is the true mastermind. Her brilliance is undeniable, but her path is twisted by the societal constraints she faces.
Whitney’s backstory reveals a young woman named Agnes Cully, deeply interested in science but forced into a career as an actress because of societal expectations. Her mother explicitly tells her that her path to survival lies in her charm and appearance, not her intellect. This suppression of her true self, combined with exposure to Zero Matter, fuels her descent into villainy. Whitney’s ambition, amplified by dark matter, becomes a terrifying force, making her a formidable and complex antagonist.
Whitney Frost is not a typical female villain seeking revenge or driven by romantic jealousy. She is power-hungry, ruthless, and terrifyingly intelligent. Her actions, though villainous, stem from a place of societal frustration and denied potential, making her a tragically compelling character.
In conclusion, Agent Carter is unapologetically feminist. It consistently subverts expectations, delivering nuanced female characters and storylines that challenge genre tropes. The writing is sharp, the acting superb, particularly Hayley Atwell and James D’Arcy, and the series as a whole is a triumph in feminist storytelling within the superhero genre. Despite its critical acclaim, Agent Carter was unfortunately canceled after two seasons. This underscores the importance of actively supporting media that champions diverse and well-developed female characters. Shows like Supergirl and Jessica Jones represent ongoing progress, but continued support is vital to ensure more stories like Agent Carter get the chance to flourish.
A series of animated GIFs showcasing Agent Carter’s strength, wit, and determination, encapsulating her appeal and the show’s empowering message.
Let’s continue to champion and support media that pushes boundaries and represents the full spectrum of human experience.
